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A Love That Created Hope by NemuriHime

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Chapter notes: This is just a myth I came up with for my latest English paper. I would have put it up earlier, but I wanted to wait & see what my grade was. Forgive me if anything is wrong (like meanings of names) but it's just a myth. For the sake of the story, pretend what I have the word mean is true.

All explainations are at the end of the story.

Don't forget to review! ^_^

The loose strands of her coal-black hair fluttered in the breeze. As she breathed, a silver frost floated in front of her mouth. She wore a royal blue kimono with an embroidered sliver dragon running along the left side of her body. Her zori clacked loudly against the stone pathway. Tears streamed from her eyes. The jeweled pin holding her hair together fell to the ground as she collapsed in the snow next to a tree.

“Misaki-chan,” whispered a sweet voice. Misaki clung to the trunk of the tree crying. She could not hear the comforting voice. As she cried, she prayed in her heart to the goddess whose voice she could not hear.

“Sakuya-hime!” cried Misaki in a choked sob. The goddess of cherry trees, Sakuya-hime, stood invisible next to the young woman. Her hair was as red as the fruit the tree produced and fell beautifully down to her waist. Embroidered on the black silk of her kimono was a gold cherry tree with leaves of emeralds that wrapped itself around her torso. Her skin was the palest peach and was not blemished in any way. Jade eyes gazed at the kneeling figure of the young woman.

“Poor child. Even now, I wonder whether it was right of me to save you eighteen years ago.” Sakuya-hime looked away from Misaki and stepped onto the stone pathway. She stared into the overcast sky and spoke again.

“No, there is a reason I kept you alive. Stop crying, Misaki-chan. I have called him for you.”

At that moment, a young man came rushing to Misaki’s side. He grabbed her porcelain hands and pulled her up. When he spoke, the goddess disappeared in swirls of color invisible to the humans next to her.

“You’ll ruin your favorite kimono, Misaki.”

“I don’t care!” She hissed. “You are sneaking away to war! It is noble for one of the imperial family to participate, yes, but not the kōtaishi. Why? What will I tell your mother and father, Ryotaro?4 Then, there is our child! What about your heir?”

Ryotaro held Misaki’s shoulders. “It will be fine. We don’t even know if you are pregnant, and I will return to you. I have no fear, as a samurai should.”

“A samurai? Now, I see. Your armor... I thought you were to be a commander to be somewhat out of harm’s way. Your deception runs that deep?”

“I will do this, Misaki, and I will see you again.” Ryotaro kissed her on the cheek. “Farewell.”

Ryotaro ran to the sidewall, put on his kabuto, and jumped over the wall without another glance. Tears streamed down Misaki’s face. Her zori fell off as she sprinted barefoot in the freezing snow to the wall. Crying out in agony, she slammed her fists repeatedly against the jagged stone. Misaki crumpled into a heap and wept into her bloodstained hands. Overwhelmed by grief, Misaki passed out and was not found for hours as a light powder began to fall. The one cherry tree Ryotaro had planted for her was on the farthest part of the palace grounds.

Months had passed. Misaki was right; she was pregnant. During her long wait, there was no word from Ryotaro. The kōgō, Ryotaro’s mother, spent weeks mourning, and his father, the tennō, sent secret forces to look for him. He avoided everything and kept fighting in secret, while Misaki prayed at the cherry tree to Sakuya-hime for his safety.

Ryotaro was far from the imperial palace. The last battle he fought was on a wide plain. He had survived another battle. The blood, sweat, and cries from the wounded made him wonder if his time would ever come in this war. His promise to his wife, though, would not be broken so easily. He would return to her. He loved her, and that was all that mattered to Ryotaro.

Riding on a black stallion, Ryotaro peered though the brush of the forest. He had been separated from the rest of his group. There was green all around him, and the only other color was the gray from the stones. Far into the distance, he saw a clearing and rode into it.

A faint tinkling of water was a welcome relief. A clear stream flowed in front of Ryotaro. The grass was green and healthy. Five feet from its edge was a cherry tree.

“It is a good omen. The goddess to whom Misaki prays has granted me good fortune,” said Ryotaro with a slight air of mirth as he placed his supplies next to its base.

“I am not a goddess of good fortune.”

The voice alarmed Ryotaro. He turned around only to glimpse a silver flash. Ribbons of red appeared before his eyes as Ryotaro hit the ground. Pain shot through his chest. He closed then opened his eyes. There looming over his wounded body was a woman with hair a cherry red and the most elaborate kimono Ryotaro had ever seen.

“I told you I am not a goddess of good fortune.” Sakuya-hime shook her head slightly. “Do you know who I am, Otomiya Ryotaro, kōtaishi, and husband to my daughter, Misaki?”

“You,” he coughed roughly and clutched his wound. “You are Misaki’s mother? The goddess of the cherry tree… Misaki is an immortal?”

The majestic goddess smirked. “Has she not told you her story? No, I suppose it was best. I get to tell you now.” She circled Ryotaro, eyeing him as if he was her prey. “This cherry tree is the very tree I put my spirit in when I entered the earth. You see, I, like all other gods, need a place to reside or I can never leave the heavens. I chose this tree. Eighteen years ago, two years after you were born, a baby was abandoned in front of my home. It was spring, and I thought of leaving the child to die. Compassion overwhelmed my heart, though, and I waited with her until a human couple found her.”

Sakuya-hime tossed her long hair, and it glittered in the sunlight. Ryotaro’s breath became ragged and shallow. She turned her emerald eyes to him as they flashed with anger.

“I am furious with you. Do you know why?” she asked mockingly.

“I have no regrets. I will die bravely. I was cut down by an enemy. I will go with no fear.” Ryotaro wheezed out his reply. His body was slowly shutting down.

“You will not see her again. You are a liar! Here I was thinking Misaki could find no better! Stupid man,” she hissed scathingly. “What makes war so attractive to you? Blood, pain, torture to no end by fending for yourself, and sickness by your own hand. Yes, it is a dream all men chase after. Did you know she is with child? She is giving birth now. It is a girl, if you must know. Oh, woe to you who cannot comfort her when she goes through the disgrace of not providing a male heir!”

At this, Ryotaro turned his head. His beautiful, angelic Misaki was far away from him. He needed to reach her, even if it was with his last breath. If this goddess loved his Misaki with such a passion that she would save her from death, then she, the mother of his beloved, could grant him one wish.

“I hear your heart, Ryotaro.” Sakuya-hime’s eyes softened. “I shall grant you that wish. Speak no more, and go in peace.”

With eyes closed, moments before the darkness consumed him, Sakuya-hime whispered into Ryotaro’s ear, “She had a son, also… twins.”

At the imperial palace, Misaki sat at the base of the cherry tree. She could feel a piece of her soul die. Ryotaro was gone. Tears filled her eyes as she stared lovingly at the two sleeping angels in her arms. Her handmaiden rose from her seated position.

“What are their names, Misaki-sama? They would all like to know in the imperial court.”

She looked to the young girl and said, “The boy is Daisuke, and the girl….”

“Ryotaro sends his love.” Sakuya-hime appeared before Misaki. The pink diamonds replaced the green emeralds on her kimono, and she pointed to the tree. Pink flowers burst forth from every branch. Tears flowed freely down Misaki’s pale face. Her handmaiden was startled.

“Misaki-sama! What is this?” Misaki grabbed the girl’s hand and spoke with a smile.

“It’s Ryotaro’s love. Go! The girl’s name is Sakura.”

Misaki placed the children on a blanket and set them on the grass. The blossoms were of the purest white with the palest pink at the center and near the stem. Life, much like the cherry blossom, was brief, but if she could only see the blossoms every year, his love would last forever.

Okay, Misaki means beauty bloom. Zori are sandals. Kotaishi is supposed to be crwoned prince; kogo- empress; and tenno- emperor. Ryotaro is supposed to mean excellent first-born son, an you all should know what kabuto means (samurai helmet). I borrowed Otomiya from Tanemura-san (gomen; it just sounds good), so it's NOT mine. & finally Daisuke is supposed to mean great help, and you all know what Sakura means. ^_^
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