[ふうぜん] where the Wind blows

Rain hit the roof in a constant rhythm, a steady steam running off the edges of the hisashi. Her cheek was pressed to the Saikusho's wooden frame, her eye peering past the small opening in the paper partition into the gloom; the grumble of thunder drowning out the sound of blood throbbing in her ears. She tried not to breathe, her small body trembling in effort as she watched her mother move. Her father knelt before a great display. Statues placed ceremonially in reverence to Buddha were set on either sides of a wooden panel that in its self framed a wooden rack that extended a few feet from the floor. Even in the dim light she could see the familiar red glint from his O'yoroi. Her mother's fingers were set straight, pinned to the other, as she allowed her husbands shitagi to glide over them. She then stepped away from him to pick up the heavy hotokedō and place it over his shoulders.

From where she sat, her knees drawn up to her chest, she could see the sorrow written on her mother's face. Her eyes were glazed, a haunted look rearranging her features.

She had been wearing the same expression for days now. Ever since the shisha had come over the mountain and spoken with their Lord. That had nearly been a fortnight ago.... She didn't understand it. Her father had then become unavailable... more unavailable then he'd always been. He spent his days training with the other samurai in the fields as she and her mother worked tirelessly to glean as much from the crops as possible for the up coming winter. Then at night he disappeared to see her uncle. The Lord of Izumi Moto -dani... the land they dwelled on.

He was in good relations with the Imperial family, and a close personal teacher of the Emperor's sons, so when an imperial shisha arrived with a scroll from the emperor no one had thought much of it. Until just a few nights before. The Emperor had called to the Samurai. There was a grave danger that threatened the lives on the Imperial family and their royal capital, Edo. The Samurai must come to them at once.

She knew her mother understood the duty of the Samurai. They were to serve. Wherever the need for them arose, there they would go. But something was different about this time. Heaviness hung in the air, its bitter taste filling her mouth and making her stomach churn. She just wished she could understand why every movement her mother made seemed like a goodbye.

Her breath caught in her throat as her mother's eyes caught her own. It was for a mere second but the message was clear. Silently she scrambled from her position and ran the hallway path back to her room. Stepping over the threshold she kneeled and pulled the partition closed. Darkness enveloped her with chilly arms, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.