Seasons
By Sophia J. Scott
“Snow Flakes”
Sojiro stared at the fog like breath in front of him, a new puff coming out with every ex hail. his mind fogging and dizzy. His throat ached and his body groaned in exhaustion. He looked up with watery eyes to his caretaker; Makoto Shishio. The two had been walking for a day or so and Sojiro's 9 year old body couldn't take it any longer in the merciless chill of winter. He gasped for breath as his feet started to lag, a few coughs escaping the young boys lips. Shishio took no action to the child's ill behavior.
Sojiro huffed, he yanked on Shishio's shawl hard, trying to get the young adult's attention, “Shishio-san. . .” Sojiro started to plea with a cough.
Shishio sighed, stopping he looked down at the dark haired adolescence, “What is it, Sojiro?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Shishio-san, I don't feel very well. Can we stop?” Sojiro plead, holding onto Shishio's shawl. Another deep cough escaped, along with a small soft sneeze.
“Hm? Your getting sick already, kid?” Shishio looked him up and down, “I guess you are a bit under dressed . . . lets go get you some new clothes. Use this for now, Sojiro.” Shishio removed his Shawl and laid it on Sojiro's shoulders.
“Wah, Atakai. . .” Sojiro smiled in gratefulness.
“Hey, Don't get to attached to it. It's back on me once we get to town.” Shishio glared down at the 9 year old.
Sojiro shook in fear, “Yes, Shishio-san.” He nodded.
Shishio sighed looking up into the air. Snow started to litter the clear chilly gray sky, landing in a sheet on the frozen ground. Night enveloped the still forest, the leaves and roots collecting snow. Frost formed around the bushes, the dirt and rock being enveloped by sleet. Winter was coming.
The two walked on, the snow starting to build up around their heels. Sojiro was lagging behind slowly, the winter getting the best of him. He coughed, stumbling into the cold flakes that had accumulated on the ground.
Shishio stopped, turning to find the boy face first in the white ground. He smiled and let out an impatient sigh, “Come on weakling, get up.” He walked over to Sojiro, kicking the child in the side. Sojiro grunted and rose, a scared smile on his face.
Sojiro looked down at the snow below his nose. A chill ran down his back as he noticed some of the white ice had worked it's was down his Kimono, “Wahahh! Cold!” He yelled, jumping up on his knees he scooped the lazy snow ball out of his kimono. Shishio managed to let a laugh escape.
“I'm not going to carry you, so hurry up.” Shishio's face turned serious as he started walking forward once again, “If you want to be strong, your going to have to push yourself.”
Sojiro nodded, wrapping Shishio's shawl around him more. 'I'm going to be as strong . . . as Shisho-san!' he nodded in reinsurance. “Wah! Wait!” He jumped up to his feet and ran forward realizing Shishio was walking away without hesitation.
The two grew quite once more. Sojiro, noticing that Shishio didn't feel like talking, decided to take a longer look at the fast changing scenery. He looked around the dense forest. The snow was almost up to his shins now and animals were scurrying to their homes for warmth and protection of the sudden snow fall. Sojiro smiled as he watched a white bunny rabbit sniff around for it's burrow.
The bunny ran seeing Sojiro and Shishio. The boy frowned, he hadn't meant to scare it.
Sojiro smiled as a fox came along. Sojiro liked foxes and had seen quite a few when he was living with his foster family. The red creature seemed that it wasn't scared of the two, and started to walk along with them from a far distance. Sojiro sped up a little bit, going past Shishio in a small jog, the fox followed his pace. Sojiro laughed. He stopped, placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He hadn't run very fast but his heart pounded and his lungs ached. He coughed some more feeling dizzy.
“What are you doing?” Shishio approached from behind. Sojiro jumped with a tired, frightened smile.
“Huh? What?” He asked, turning toward Shishio with heavy breath. Shishio paused and looked at Sojiro for a moment, he then looked to the side of the path that they walked.
“Kistune, huh?” Shishio asked. Sojiro nodded his head seeing that the fox had also stopped.
“Yeah . . . I like foxes.” he chirped.
“Hmm, do you know the legend behind Foxes here in Japan?” Shishio asked, eying the small creature.
“Legend? I didn't know there was one.” Sojiro stood up strait, looking up at Shishio with curious eyes.
“Yeah. Foxes are said to have powers that increase with their age and wisdom. They can also
Assume a human form at their wish.” Shishio stated.
“Assume a human form . . . so, everyday people could be foxes in reality?” Sojiro asked, looking at the fox who was now sitting comfortably on the snow.
“You could say that. Some stories even portray the fox to be faithful guardians, friends, lovers, and wives. While others say they are backstabbing deceiving characters.”
“Wives? So . . . I could marry a fox.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Sojiro. I said a legend, not a fact.” Shishio hit the boy lightly upside the head and continued forward. Sojiro sat for a minute, reflecting on the information he was just told. Seeing that Shishio was a few meters ahead he snapped out of his self induced trance and stumbled forward once more to catch up. He looked to the side of the trail and frowned as the fox did not follow. Sighing, he turned his head in front of him.
“I believe that's Osaka.” Shishio stated. Sojiro looked up from his feet to see lights beaming through the snowy darkness. There was a break in the trees to unveil the large city of Osaka.
“Woah! Shishio-san, whats that big fire by the shrine for?” Sojiro pointed to the visible flame that licked above the far off shrine.
“It's December 14th, I believe it's time for the Iwatsuta Shrine Fire Festival.”
“A festival . . . what do they do?” Sojiro asked as the two approached the town.
“They jump through fire, kid.” He looked at Sojiro who had a terrified smile on his face.
“What do they do that for?” He exclaimed.
“It's to make themselves pure, if I recall correctly, although I could be wrong. I'm not around Osaka very much.”
“Did you ever do that, Shishio-san?”
“I was already burnt once I don't want to be burnt a second time! What do you think the answer is?” He barked.
“Sorry, Shishio-san.” Sojiro bowed like he had been taught. The two stopped at the side entrance to the city.
“Now be quite, we are gonna go in and find someplace to stay.” Shishio placed his hand on his sword, Sojiro following the motion.
“Okay.” Sojiro whispered. The two entered the city around the back, keeping themselves hidden. They soon found a small house that belonged to a hermit like civilian. Shishio quickly made the territory his own and settled in. Once inside the small house, Shishio had Sojiro go out back and bury the body.
When Sojiro came in he found Shishio eating some stolen food. Sojiro waited for the man to finish and sat down on the floor.
“Good job, kid.” Shishio said, noticing Sojiro's presence. He rewarded the child with some food, and let him roll out his own mat to rest in.
“How long are we going to stay here, Shishio-san?” Sojiro asked, mouth full of rice.
“Sojiro, don't speak with your mouth full.” Shishio glared at the small boy. Sojiro nodded, frightened, “A few days, or until we get caught again.” Shishio laid back against the wall, “Sojiro. . .”
Sojiro looked up from his meal, “Yes, Shishio-san?”
“Come on, I'm going to take bath.”
“You need me to fan the fire?” Sojiro asked, standing.
“Yeah. Come on.” Shishio rose and made it to the back of the house and out to the bathing house, Sojiro in toe.
“Um . . .Mr. Shishio, may I take a bath also?” Sojiro asked. Shishio turned to look at the boy, it was no lie that he was absolutely filthy.
Shishio sighed, “Sure kid, after you get the fire going.”
“Thank you.” He nodded as Shishio went forward. The two got to the small bathe house in no time, Sojiro immediately struck up a fire while Shishio went in to wash off. Once the fire was ready and roaring Shishio entered with a slight yelp. Sojiro laughed fanning the fire.
“Is that to hot, Shishio-san?” He tried to hide his snickers.
“No, Sojiro it's fine.” A disgruntled Shishio responded. Sojiro smiled as he continued to fan.
“Okay!” he chirped, “May I come in know?”
“Er, yeah.” Shishio still sounded very much in pain,”When your in I need to talk to you, kid.”
“Yes, Shishio-san.” Sojiro walked over to the opening of the bathe house. He set the fan on a small shelf and started to undress, reveling bruises and cuts all over his muddy body. He sighed as he examined a large scared across his back and a few smaller cuts around his arms.
Sitting down on the small stool, he gingerly started to wash the mud and gunk off of him. He yelped and shuttered as the soap stung his many wounds.
“Whats the matter?” Shishio asked from behind the door.
“Aw, nothing, Shishio-san. I'm just a little beat up and the soap hurt me, is all.” Sojiro chirped. Sojiro washed himself off and stood to enter the bath when something caught his eye.
'Shishio-san's sword?' he thought, looking at the sheathed weapon that lay in the corner by Shishio's bandages. 'Why would be bring his sword in here? I guess he is always prepared as a bandit . . .' Sojiro sighed then opened the door. Shishio sat in the small ofuro eyes closed and elbows on the edge of the large wooden bucket. It wasn't the first time Sojiro had seen Shishio without his bandages so it didn't scare him the least.
Shishio opened one eye seeing the small boy enter. He scooted over in the furo to make room for the Japanese youth. Sojiro climbed into the deep wooden bucket, his face turning to a picture of pain.
“Ah! That hurts!” the minor groaned as he started to sink into the steaming water. Shishio smirked.
“Yeah, kid, see why I yelped?” behind Shishio's playful smirk was a evil face of revenge.
“You heard me laughing at you, didn't you, Shishio-san?” Sojiro smiled sheepishly.
“Uh, yeah.” His smirk morphed into a glare.
Sojiro laughed nervously, “What did you want to talk to me about, Shishio-san.” Sojiro asked trying to change the subject. He looked down at his hands, pressed firmly against the bottom of the furo.
“Your sword training.” Shishio stated, shifting into a more relaxed position.
“Sword training?” Sojiro asked, his wet head flying upward to face Shishio.
“I have been training you with that wakazashi for a year now. You now need to ask yourself if you want to master any abnormal techniques . . .because this is the time to start.
“Techniques . . . how about the . . .oh, what was it called. . .” Sojiro laughed nervously once again, in cover for his poor memory, “Shu . . . shuku . . “
“Shukuchi?” Shishio asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes! Hehe, yes tha-Haku-shon!” Sojiro covered his mouth as soon as the sneeze ripped through his body, “Wahh, Sumimasen, Shishio-san.” Sojiro said. Hand still over mouth.
“Hmf, you must be getting a cold.” Shishio said, looking at Sojiro's flushed cheeks, “I wouldn't be able to tell if you have a fever though. . . as for Shukuchi, if that's what you want to learn I'll teach you. As promised you'll be strongest, second to me.”
“Thank you, Shishio-san.” Sojiro said, his voice rather stuffed up.
The rest of the night was rather calm for the two bandits. After the relaxing bathe they went back inside to eat and rest, Shishio changing his bandages and Sojiro finding some clothes that fit him rather nicely. Sojiro, upon finding the clothing, Sojiro also remembered Shishio's shawl, but did not return it at that moment.
The night donned on and the colder part of the evening struck. The busy city of Osaka boiled down to a few night travelers and some drunks. Noise that had constantly been in the background was now lacking, and only the occasional footsteps or hoot of an owl could be heard.
Sojiro lay next to Shishio, wrapped up tight in his quilt. Although the time was somewhere around 12:00, he was wide awake. His body shook and his small sneezes continued for some time. Sniffles and whimpers he tried to hide from the dark world above him.
He dug himself deeper into his blanket and started to cry, the tears soaking the pillow. He did this often, he could show no sorrow in front of Shishio, or he would be dubbed weak and probably left behind. Sojiro was grateful that Shishio had asked if he would like to come with him a year ago, Sojiro would have been left alone with no care at all if he hadn't. He still was a child, and nothing more.
Wiping the tears away he rolled over onto his side, his eyes adjusting to brighter light then the depths of his pillow. He looked up at the roof first, everything looked so big and lifeless at night. His eyes fell downward to meet the bandaged back of Shishio a meter or so away.
“Shishio-san . . . I cannot get to sleep.” Sojiro whispered, telling the whole truth yet hoping Shishio was asleep so he didn't turn around to see the boys teary face.
“Get some tea, kid.” Was all that the older man growled. So he was also awake . . . 'had he heard me crying?' Sojiro asked himself. He sat up and gingerly slid out of bed. He walked over to the kitchen lazily. After fumbling around for a bit, he located some Bancha tea . He grabbed the packet and lit a small fire in the Nabe, grabbing a Hiraka he poured some stored water into it and placed the pot over the fire.
“Ah, the fire is so warm.” He whispered, putting his hands up to warm them. He watched the tea for a few minutes and then took it out to pour into a small cup, he had only made enough for once cup. Sojiro was surprised at the kitchen of the house, for it had no electronic devises at all as some newer kitchens did thanks to America.
After finishing his tea he felt more relaxed. Yawning the young boy walked over to mat once again. Curling up in a ball to fend off the cold, he fell asleep to dreams of his mother.
* * *
The morning came slowly and Sojiro was awoken early for sword training. Shishio pushed him hard every morning when it came to swords. Sojiro knew it was for the best, but his body wouldn't be able to take it much longer. That morning Shishio also started to train Sojiro with Shukuchi. By the time that was done, Sojiro was cut and bruised from head to toe, his legs and hands bleeding from the exercises and harsh moves that he had to execute to Shishio's liking. The weather hadn't made it anymore enjoyable. There was at least three feet of snow on the ground, topped with a fresh solid sheet of ice that cut into Sojiro's small shins with each step.
After the brutal training it was time for lunch. Shishio managed to make some thing dead enough to eat, although the object that was burnt beyond recognition did seem to twitch in Sojiro's mouth.
Sojiro sighed, leaning back onto the wall of the house. He looked upon the beautiful, yet deadly, snow that sat before him like a sea of wonder. He would have liked the winter if it wasn't for the cold threating nights that stormed when he was living with his foster family. He looked down at his blood stained Hakama and sword.
'I never wanted to kill . . . I never wanted to become . . . what I am becoming.' he thought looking up at the pale blue sky. He closed his eyes, a smile coming to his face. 'At least at this one moment I can have peace'
Suddenly, The peace was disrupted by a small cry and a rustling from the brush far beyond the houses yard. Sojiro stood up, incentively drawing his sword. The rustling started up again. Sojiro ran forward into the bloody snow and up to the brush. Pointing his sword at the bush he started to yell with a shaking voice.
“Come out! Whoever you are!” He demanded. All of a sudden, his demands were met as a small orange fox head popped out of the snow covered brush. Sojiro jumped back, startled by the outburst.
The fox looked at him for a moment, and blinked cutely. Sojiro stared back at the fox, looking at its black beady eyes.
“A fox!” He whispered, trying not to scare it away. The fox blinked at him, twitched it's tail, and then dove strait behind the brush into a deep forest. Sojiro started to run after it but caught himself knowing there would be no reward. So instead of chasing after the little creature, he watched it run deeper into the forest.
Suddenly, he caught something in the foxes mouth, it was a small purple cloth.
“THAT'S SHISHIO-SANS SHAWL! COME BACK HERE!” He yelled, darting into the forest after the cunning little creature.
After a few moments of running his lungs started to sting and his breath vanish. He gasped for air and coughed as he broke down on the frosted ground of the forest. He looked around in every direction, trying to catch where the fox went. He turned thinking it might be behind him, but it was no use.
Sighing and coughing he plopped down onto his back, arms out at his sides, “What's the use anymore . . .” He smiled laughing a bit. He looked up at the sky, a few new snow flakes falling down. Another storm was coming.
“Excuse me . . . is this yours?” Sojiro jumped. He scrambled to sit up strait and locate the foreign voice, but once he arose his heart softened it's harsh beat.
It was a little girl, no older then himself. She was holding out Shishio's shawl in her hand. She wore long black pants and an oriental looking shirt. Her black hair was tied up into two tight buns on the back of her head. Her brown eyes danced as she held the cloth out to Sojiro.
'Ahh! She must be that fox I was just chasing after! It became a human!' He thought looking her up and down, “Ah, yeah, that's mine.” He said, standing to claim it, “Thanks for finding it.”
“Well, it was stuck in the brush over there and I saw it when I was walking so . . . excuse me, but are you lost?”
Sojiro jumped, “Lost? What, hehe, what?” He smiled, looking around frantically, “Ah! I guess I am!”
“Here, My name is Hou-Ching Yang. I live just down the road so I'll take you to my house to warm up, you don't look so good.”
“Ah, My name is Seta Sojiro, and thank you, that would be . . .nice.” Sojiro smiled, trying not to think of Shishio.
“Well follow me . . . dinner is almost done and we would love to have you!”
