Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Kazemaru and Miharu ❯ Prologue

Dr. Minamoto shifted the stethoscope over the rough-spun cloth of his patient's habit. He frowned as he stared at his watch a moment, and then took off the stethoscope. “I'm afraid your condition is worsening,” he paused. “If you don't have surgery, you'll die.”

 

The old Buddhist nun let out a laugh, rough with age but kind. “Don't be so dramatic,” she said with a smile. “Of course I'll die, I'm old.” She stared out the window a moment, contemplating the world outside. “It's the way of things. We're given a chance to improve our souls, we die and are born again according to our success.”

 

She looked back at Dr. Minamoto, who clearly wasn't buying her religious musings, and looked rather distressed. She patted his hand reassuringly. “You young doctors all seem to think you're in a war against death. Really you're just here to give people a chance to live well. If I haven't had that chance by now, no one has.” She chuckled at the last.

 

Dr. Minamoto sighed and rose from his chair beside the bed. Fishing a pad of paper out of his pocket, he scribbled something down and tore off the sheet. “Alright, it's your choice. But please take this prescription. It will make you more comfortable.” He handed the slip of paper to her.

 

“If you insist,” she said indulgently.

 

 

 

Asuka's transfer to the Hospice wing of the convent was easy enough. She simply spent her time in a different part of the building, and slept in a different room. The medicine Dr. Minamoto gave her, plus the fatigue she had already been experiencing made her rather foggy, and she spent much of her time simply sitting in the gardens, looking at the scenery.

 

She had had a good life, she decided. She had been given many opportunities to help others, and had found a measure of peace in hard work. It wasn't a glamorous life, to be sure, but it wasn't terribly stressful either. Now, in the eve of her life, her every need was tended to by the other nuns, and it was comforting to see they cycle begin again.

 

One day, as she was being spoon-fed a bowl of soup, (her hands shook too much for her to do it herself) she noticed how very fine and delicate the hands of the postulant feeding her were. “You have very nice hands,” Asuka mused out loud. “You must be new here.” The hard work the nuns put themselves to quickly roughened the hands of even the laziest postulant. Asuka could see the postulant blush, even though she wore her hood down over her eyes. He hand stilled in the midst of it's path to Asuka's mouth.

 

“I'm sorry!” Asuka said quickly. “This medicine I'm taking sometimes makes me speak without thinking!”

 

The postulant ducked her head lower and raised the spoon to Asuka's mouth. “That's alright,” she said quietly. “I took it as a compliment.” Her voice sounded as soft and smooth as her hands looked, and there was something oddly familiar about her.

 

“When I was just newly a postulant, I became very ill,” Asuka mused out loud. “The doctor said there was nothing he could do and everyone assumed I was not long for this world. I was moved to hospice, and I was very frightened. There was another postulant who took care of me, even though I was very contagious. She told me not to be afraid of death.

 

“Of course, so had everyone else, but for some reason she sounded more convincing. `Without death,' she told me, `what value would there be in life?' It took me many years to understand what she meant, but the idea soothed me. Miraculously, I got better and moved back out of hospice.”

 

The postulant sat perfectly still through all of Asuka's story, and was still silent. Asuka hesitated, thinking the medicine must have muddled her mind, but… “You remind me so very much of her….”

 

The postulant let out a long breath, as if she'd been holding it, and set the bowl and spoon on the table next to her. “That's because it was me,” she said simply.

 

Asuka blinked rapidly. “But that's not possible! She was older than I!”

 

The postulant lifted her hood a little, so that Asuka could see her face.

 

“It is you,” she gasped. “But you haven't aged a day! How is that possible?”

 

The postulant frowned a little and picked up the bowl and spoon. “That is an exceedingly long story.” She raised the spoon, but Asuka held up a shaking hand.

 

“I'll admit I don't have much longer to live, but I'm certainly not busy. I've spent my life working and now I'm bored out of my mind.”

 

The girl thought about it, and then sighed, seeming relieved. “Alright, but keep eating. This is going to take quite a while.”

 

Asuka opened her mouth compliantly, and the girl laughed, continuing to feed her.

 

“In 1592, a girl named Miharu Nakamura was born,” she began, ignoring Asuka's startled look and shoving another spoonful of soup in her mouth to silence her. “It was the end of the warring states era, and Tokugawa Iesu took power when she was still very young. Her father, formerly a samurai, was promoted to Daimyo for his help. Because of her sudden change in status, her chief concern was to improve herself so as to be suitable for marriage. So it was that she reached the age of 17 unwed, not particularly late for that era, but on the edge of concern. The pressure of changing herself made her unhappy with her life, although not even she was very aware of it. Her favorite way to pass the time was music, the 13-string koto in particular, and so it was that she met a very interesting person late one winter night………”

 

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AN:

 

I added a prologue because the beginning of Chapter 1 just wasn't catchy enough.