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Author's Chapter Notes:

So many reviews! I am so glad you are enjoying this story. I think I've gotten used to it now. Anyway, I VERY much appreciate your encouragement.

*sets wood box in the floor and steps up on it*

Ehem...I feel it incumbent upon me to say a few words here. First, I am not an expert in Japanese linguistics, etiquette or culture. Second, this is a work of fiction, which means I use my artistic license a bit. Thirdly, I welcome any and all corrections or suggestions as to things I may have penned wrong, however, I reserve the right to change them. I'm just throwing this out there, make of it what you wish.

Please excuse all errors in translation/explanation/usage

Ubune - small Japanese flat bottom fishing boat

Bentō - home-packed meal consisting of rice, fish or meat and pickled or cooked vegetables, placed in a box shaped container in order of consumption.

Domburi - portion of white rice covered in either meat, chicken and egg or tempura

Shitajiki - soft black mat used for Japanese calligraphy 

please excuse my writing errors too. 




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.



"He is a happy young man. Sarua-san must have done something right." His mother's words greeted Yuki as he entered a more western styled room. His mother and father were taking tea along with Kaoru. 

"Shouda is a very pleasant and brave boy." His father observed.

"He speaks very determined for a boy of his age. With a little polish he will do just fine. His hakama was a bit off and a little loud, but what could expect from a foreigner. I think we should change his hair style, it was a bit short don't you think?" Her eye stared at the table in thought. "I'm sure he needs new clothes and I'll have to call about getting into the academy. He definitely should attend the same school as the Umezawa men before him. Surely that churlish little mother of his would agree to that." She mumbled the last bit before taking a sip of tea.

"Dear."

"What? She was totally ignorant of her station. She sat quietly enough pretending to follow our traditions and imitating our culture, but she completely lacks the skill to move in our society and has too much pride to admit it! Her kimono was second rate and don't even get me started on those tacky hair ornaments. And her smile was too big, all teeth." She shook her head.

"You mean, bright, mother. Her smile was very bright and genuine. You would not recognize it as you have so little experience in the matter." Yuki said it calmly enough but inside he felt angry and ashamed.

 

"Sara's kimono was very pretty indeed Umezawa-san, and it was arranged very well I thought." Kaoru spoke softly. She was thinking of the woman she had met that night in the theater, the same that walked into the house today. She wondered what it was her husband had liked about her. Had he been in love with Sara? She stole a glance at him. He returned a appreciative look. It grated her nerves and she looked away.

She had gone to all the right schools, followed all the protocols, attended a finishing school and one of the top Universities in Japan. She traveled to several countries, knew all the right people, came from a wealthy family and all it got her was married to Yuki and stuck in the Umezawa family. He was a good catch on all counts, but they had never fallen in love. Kaoru wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Umezawa had fallen in love. Did anyone ever in these arranged marriages?

Her duty was to be a good wife and provide heirs. Her inability to do the latter obstructed her motivation to be the first. If she couldn't preform these simple duties, what good was her life, especially one with the Umezawas. She tried to talk with her mother and friends about it, but everyone was stuck in the same mindset. No one understood.

She felt terribly lonely.

 

"I thought she looked very well myself, dear. I think you are biased by envy." Mr. Umezawa rose. All the occupants in the room regarded him as if he had grown another head, including the servants quietly moving about.

"Envy? Why would I envy that dreadful foreign woman?" Mrs. Umezawa's cup clanked against the table.

"Because she has something you want, Shouda. I shouldn't worry my dear, Sarua-san seems a reasonable person." This staged his exit, which he took without looking back to see the stunned looks on the faces he left behind.

Mr. Umezawa, the President of the Umezawa group. Wealthy, powerful, a sharp businessman. He had married very well to a beautiful, yet feisty woman, the woman he wanted. He actually had to steal her away from another man. She proved to be invaluable over the years in helping him get what he wanted. He had taken to ignoring her when their desires were different, but mostly he found her ravings amusing and accompanied her to stave off boredom. Until now, the odds were always stacked in her favor. He had the delightful feeling that things would become increasingly more interesting.

 

Why, all of a sudden, was everyone so vocal? Yuki rarely heard his father speak to his mother in that manner. His mother's expression belied no irritation when he looked to see her reaction. She calmly lifted her cup to her lips again. Kaoru, who hardly ever expresses genuine personal feelings and even acted out of the ordinary. He wished he could talk with Kaoru. He took a few steps toward her. When she noticed, she immediately scampered away. He must be a very poor husband.

"Do not trouble yourself with her Yukimoto." He met his mother's steady gaze. "She has lost her way and is floundering about like a ubune in rough seas. She is a waste, a mistake and is totally unfit to be an Umezawa."

"Mother, you are too cruel." He turned away from her. 

"Only cowards hide from the truth Yukimoto." He closed his mind to her words as he left her alone in the room.

 

***

 

Sara simply refused to talk about it. She had been livid. Such a woman should be locked in an asylum, kept in a cage or stretched from a long rope until dead. As a mother, she preformed her duty and asked Shouda how he felt about the introduction after then took baths and ate sweet cakes and soy milk with the Shinoharas.

Shouda mentioned that Yuki-san was different in the house than at the club. He was happier at the club. He felt his grandfather was a nice man. Sara mentally questioned this, but didn't say anything. He said Kaoru-san reminded him of a mouse and that his grandmother would take some getting used to. He thought the house too large and museum-like, but mostly felt disappointment at not having time with his dad. When Shouda grew quiet she stroked his head and kissed him. Her pearl of wisdom that skirted her immediate feels while touching on the truth and giving encouragement?

"Beginning is always awkward and scary. Like when you came to me."

Shouda perked up and looked at her.

"The Shinoharas found you in the hallway on the floor."

"That's right, two weeks before you were born which, incidentally, I had all planned out. I found myself in doubled over in pain crouched in the hallway..."

"You should of went to hospital." He sounded just like his grandma Richards.

Sara cut her eyes at him, "You gonna let me tell this story?" He smiled. "Okay, so the Shinoharas, who almost never leave their apartment after dark, came out and discovered me."

"Sofu said his son whispered it to him while he sat in front of his shrine." Shouda interrupted again.

Sara blinked, "Really?" She had never known that.

"Yup."

"Back to my story. They called an ambulance and rode with me to hospital. I was afraid something was wrong with you, that you might die. I wasn't prepared for you to come to me early. At hospital I was wheeled around, poked, prodded, stripped and moved to another bed where my legs were stuck wide open like this." she spread her arms out and Shouda covered his eyes. "Then calmly coached in Japanese by a very politely medical team into giving birth, though he did have to move you around a bit in there."

"Awwww mom." He shook his head.

"Well, its the truth. Anyway, you came out a fine healthy baby boy. As white as a sheet with a head full of porcupine straight dusty brown hair."

"I looked like the milk man's baby." 

"What do you know about the milk man?" Sara turned to her son with a fake scowl.

Shouda grinned, "That's what grandma said."

"You just be careful about repeating what my mother says." She touched his nose and poked it. "My point is...what was my point?"

"Scary and awkward."

"Yes! It was scary and awkward in the beginning, but with a little trust and help from others I held in my arms the most precious little boy, the best thing that ever happened to me. It was love at first sight."

"I know, I have that affect on women."

"Aakkk!" She grabbed him and they rolled on the floor laughing ending up tangled in each others arms. "Things will end up as they should, don't worry Shouda."

"I love you mom."

 

***

 

Yuki closed the door to his flat. He wanted to be alone. What he really wanted was to call Sara and ask if he could come and see Shouda, but they needed time. She had been perfectly poised and restrained at the introduction. She was soft and kind yet firm and a bit mischievous. She really had not changed much. He remembered showing up at her small office after they had first met:

 

He parked his car along the street and eyed the slim alleyway, then looked at her card again. His business eye told him the location, though not the best, was well chosen. This part of the city was safe as well. He could see her sign from his car, Kami chō no hane (Paper butterfly Wings). Like all the other signs in the small space, it sat on the building vertically. He engaged the alarm on his car and entered the narrow street.

The door chimed as it opened and a few seconds later Sara appeared from another room in an apron marked with color and other debris. Her smile faltered slightly as she recognized him, then spread again with an impish tilt to the corners of her mouth. She untied the apron and placed it on a hook, then walked up to him and bowed with her hands clasped together in front.

"Welcome to Paper Butterfly Wings, please accept my assistance."

"This place is too small." He walked around her as she righted herself and shot him a look, which he ignored.

"How large does an establishment have to be to sell paper items?"

"It is boring."

"Quaint."

He turned to her, "It smells."

"Incense."

"So headstrong."

"So supercilious."

They smiled at one another and began to laugh. Then he straightened himself.

"What about lunch?"

"I have bentō. Would you like some?" She turned away from him.

"Did you make it?"

"Of course." She turned back mid-step.

"I thought we could go out somewhere." He leaned back and glanced out the window.

"If you wish to secure my presence at your disposal Umezawa-san, you must make an appointment." 

He walked over to where she stood by her desk. 

"Yuki."

"Yukimoto-san" she gave him a knowing look.

"Fine. Then every Tuesday and Thursday for the next four weeks." They stood challenging one each other for a few minutes, then she grabbed her agenda. He pointed at it. "Just write Yukimoto."

 

He could not remember what made him go to her office, but Sara had been worth it. She was always worth it. He made himself a short glass of whiskey and sat down on his black deer skin sofa. Shouda's album lay before him on a matching ottoman. It opened to a large black & white of her bare protruding belly. The light cast a soft glow across her skin. Below it in both English and Japanese was penned, ‘Shouda.' He drew an imaginary circle around her belly button with the very tip of his finger, then turned the page.

Shouda wrapped in a hospital blanket with Sara's lips pressed to his forehead, his eyes closed and his tiny fingers folded over on another. A fatter Shouda held up against a black vervet backdrop, naked like an offering in Sara's hands. His skin glowed peach against the black backdrop and his dusty brown hair spiked up like a troll. It was endearing and beautiful at the same time. Shouda's body folded up in Japanese printed material like a cone. His arms stuck out on either side and a small skull cap covering his head. He was darker and his eyes gazed wide eyed at the camera, a goofy half-smile on his face. A pair of weathered looking hands supported his head. 

He got up and pour himself another drink.

Shouda held up in Sara's arms, maybe a year or so old, his hair dark and curly, moving in to give her a kiss. Shouda leaning over a large Go block next to an elderly Japanese man whose hand gently supported his wobbly body. Shouda on the shoulders of a be-freckled older gentleman, both wore sunglasses. Shouda completely zonked out on the large brown bosom of a woman equally in slumber.

Yuki drowned his drink and then another. He looked back at the open album on the ottoman covered his face. He had lost so much and couldn't get it back. It was too painful. He couldn't look at the album anymore for the time being. He grabbed the bottle and swayed back to his bedroom.

 

πππππππππππππππ

 

Shouda hurried out of his shoes and into his house slippers before dropping his bag and charging into the apartment.

"Shouda, your bag. Be sure to change out of your uniform first!" Sara sighed and rolled her eyes. Her head hurt and her back ached from bending over her lab desk all afternoon. She was putting together the finishing touches on the third sample for her proposal.

Weddings were always difficult. She usually had to meet with the families of both the bride and the groom. Decisions were politely hashed out, deferences humbly glossed over. She had learned to pick up on Japanese tension over the years. At first she was clueless, gradually she learned the signs, but the hardest part was becoming sensitive to it. The culture was so hospitable that it was possible for her to barrel right over everyones wishes and make decisions. Problem was, they would all concede even if it was not to their taste.

She padded into the kitchen and depressed the start button on her rice maker before filling the dispenser with rice and clamping it down. She made short work of a few vegetables and some chicken, sautéing them soy sauce and garlic. Then heated some miso soup and dropped in a few cubes of tofu. An added an egg to the sauté and she pulled her pre-made salad with bean sprouts, seaweed and pickles from the fridge. She heard Shouda laugh.

"Shouda. Please set the table." 

"I'm talking to grandma." He called back.

"Do you or do you not wish to eat young man?" A few minutes later Shouda flew around the kitchen getting chopsticks, napkins, cups and glasses. "Be careful. Did you hang up?"

"I told her I'd call her back when we finished."

She filled two medium size bowls with rice, heaped a generous position of sauté on top and put the cover plate over it to keep it warm. She spooned miso soup into two small bowls and placing everything on a tray, headed out to the low dinning table. 

"When are we going to get a regular dining table?" Shouda sniffed the Domburi.

"What do you mean? One of the fantastic things about Japan is the intimate relationship one fosters with the floor."

 

***

 

It was getting late and Shouda was still talking to his grandparents. Sara walked into the living space and looked at his happy face staring at the computer screen.

"Shouda you need to bathe and go to bed you have school tomorrow. Say good night."

"Is that your mother?" A female voice asked sternly.

"Yes."

"Alright then, go bathe and let me talk to her."

"Yes ma'am. Love you." He made kissing noises at the monitor and hopped off down the hall. 

Sara sat down in front of the computer and looked at her moms round face. Her long dreads piled up on her head and glasses perched at the end of her nose. It softened when it saw her.

"Darren, Darren look, its our baby girl." Her mother's face got closer to the camera and she smiled. 

"Hi mom."

There was movement behind her. (You act like you don't see her every other day through Facetime. She looks the same as she did two days ago and two days before that.) Her fussy father's forehead pushed her mom over slightly and smiled into the camera. "Hey baby girl. You look tired. Japan isn't wearing you out is it? You can just hop a plane and come on home anytime you want. You know that right?"

Her other pushed him out of the way. "You've been telling her that for twelve years now."

"So what? Its just as true today as it was twelve years ago."

"Baby," she continued ignoring him, "what is this I hear about Shouda meeting his father and grandparents?"

(Your mother bout fell out the chair!)

Sara's shoulders sagged.

"What in the world were you thinking? How could you make a decision like that without consulting the family?" (She's a grown woman Percy.) "That man dropped you like a hot potato, left you defenseless in a foreign country."

"I wasn't defenseless. You didn't say that to Shouda, did you?" Sara sat up.

"I have more sense than that. So, tell me about it. What do you think? How was his family?"

(If they are smart people they recognized the value of my baby girl.)

"It went about as well as it could under the circumstances I guess."

"Darren, Darren did you hear that? I won't let that Japanese man and his family terrorized my baby in some foreign country. We have to buy us tickets." Her hand flew up in the air and she shook her head."

(Percy when are you going to get used to the fact that she can take care of herself)

"Said the man whose been telling you to come home for twelve years." She rolled her eyes.

Sara had to laugh.

"Mom, I'm not being terrorized. Everything is fine..." movement behind her mother caught her eye again, "what is dad doing?"

"Oh, he's working out on his Wii. He loves it."

(It checks my weight, helps keep me balanced and makes work all at the same time, and its fun.)

"Wow." Sara's eyebrows lifted.

"The tickets."

"I'm fine mom. Thank you for your support, but now is not a good time."

Her mother looked at her disbelievingly. "Well, all right, but Darren you keep an eye on the ticket prices."

(If she wants to know the prices to get home, tell her I've got ‘em memorized.)

Her mom looked at her and rolled her eyes.

 

πππππππππππππππ

 

Sara pulled up on the clamp screw and started twirling the rod around in a circle. Slowly the vise started to lift. The bamboo paper came into view breadcrumb brown and veiny. I looked perfect. She gently pulled it out and sat it on a metal plate where she burned the edges to a dark brown with a sauntering tool. Again she transferred it to her soft black shitajiki mat and secured it under a metal stick. She pulled out a sheet of paper with customer's name written in kanji and began to prepare the rest of her calligraphy set.

"President, you have a visitor. Umezawa Kaoru-san."

Sara smiled, "Thank you, would you check to see if there is fresh tea?" Sara stared at the table for a minute before lifting off her apron. She washed her hands and checked her appearance in a long mirror before walking out of her clinic. The short trip down the hall had her imagining all kinds of embarrassing scenes, yet she slid aside the panel and emerged with a smile.

"Welcome Umezawa-san." She bowed.

"Forgive the intrusion Richards-san." Kaoru bowed in response.

"Please come sit in my office." Sara moved towards a room with short panels separating it from the rest of the shop but not reaching the ceiling. It gave the appearance of privacy while maintaining the whole. Kaoru sat down as she observed the office. Sara's assistant came in with a tray of tea. She sat the two cups down silently and gave a half bow before leaving.

Sara sat attentively waiting for Kaoru to speak, on the inside she was wishing she could engage some type of hard protective coating like an armadillo. She had no idea what this poor woman was going to say. She could only imagine how hurt she must feel. 

Kaoru was the perfect Japanese doll. Her eyes dark and clear, her bone structure angular yet soft. Her nose button-like, her mouth small and pouty. Her skin glowed like soft ivory and her hair framed her face delicate before disappearing behind her ears.

"You have a very beautiful shop Sarua-san. It is the perfect location. I remember passing  and often times looking in at your window display. If I'm not mistaken I know a few of your clients, that is, I've seen your work." She raised her cup to her lips.

"Thank you, I..."

"What was it you fell in love with about my husband?" She looked at Sara so intensely, Sara wanted to hide her face, but she didn't. Instead, she blinked a few times then smiled weakly in resignation.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes."

"Well," she thought a moment. "He was witty and pushy, but gentle and kind. He listened when I spoke, though he did not always answer. I was attracted to his confidence and when he was at ease, we could be together for hours without saying a word, but were so keenly aware of the other that we never felt alone. I could learn from him and I admired his opinions." She sighed.

"I never saw any of that in my husband. Not while we dated or after we were married." She sat her cup down, "Maybe if I did, things would have been different." Sara didn't know how to reply. "Did he tell you that I'm sterile? I can bear him no children." They stared at each other. "I am defeated by you," she looked down, "and Shouda."

Sara launched out of chair without thinking. "What do you mean defeated? Kaoru-san, life is not fare. My father calls it a bad tempered woman who can never be appeased." She walked around her desk and sat in the empty chair beside Kaoru. "But, the only one who can defeat you, is you. We are each entities with the ability to make decisions, reason and problem solve. We control our triumphs and defeats."

 

Kaoru looked at the woman sitting in front of her with confusion. "I did not choose to be sterile. I do not want it." She fought to control her emotions.

"I know that, no one has the right to blame you for it either. I'm sorry this has happened to you, but only you can turn this around." 

Kaoru was caught up in the compassion emanating from this woman, this foreigner to whom she had divulged more of her feelings than she had even her closest friend.

"How?" It whispered between them and then became contemptuous. "Adoption? It wouldn't be mine. Worse, we would have to choose one from China. It probably wouldn't even be Japanese. Helping those less fortunate? Yuki does this and it irritates me to distraction. He constantly talks about them and goes off to play with them. Its degrades him and me if I were to go with him. He's always trying and trying and I just wish he would leave me alone!" She realized she was standing as the room became distorted with her tears. 

The next thing she knew, she was being embraced. Her arms stayed rigidly by her sides, but she welcomed it. Lay her head on the offered shoulder and wept. Wept the tears that had built up over with the passing of days, season, years. 

"Listen to me Kaoru-san. The bird that flies with the wind at its back, arrives with energy to complete the task at its destination. Fighting it won't help. Talk to your husband. Find something you enjoy doing and immerse yourself in it. Figure out all the positive things in your life and meditate on them. Don't give control over your happiness to anyone or anything. You hold on to that power." She felt Sara's squeeze and then tissue paper was gently placed in her hand. She almost wept again, but instead dabbed at her eyes and nose until she felt composed enough to lift her head.

She was surprised to see Sara wiping her own eyes and she looked down.

"I have made a raving fool of myself."

"Not at all." They stood a moment in silence. 

"The proverb about the bird, where do you learn that?"

"Umezawa Yukimoto told me that once." Kaoru looked everywhere but at Sara. "Would you like to see the rest of the shop?"

Kaoru brightened, "Yes, I would like that."

 






Chapter End Notes:

I appreciate your taking the time to read this story. I really do enjoy reading your thoughts.

Thanks!







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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.