"Y/N, are you sure you're okay?" Senya asks for like the fourth time since morning. "I mean, you can always help me once you're all better."
"I'm going to say the same thing even if you keep on asking you know," I say, wiping between the tatami mats with a dry cloth. I rotate on my knees to face her.
Senya stands by the threshold, holding a pile of unwashed dishes. At her look, I sigh and add, "I'm fine, really. And I want to help."
Though unconvinced, she finally relents and descends down to the backyard. I resume my task on cleaning the house, which is, in fact, already clean. It's more of my conscience to help around with something rather than stay bed-ridden like a gravely sick patient when I am not anymore. Rough movement does cause some pain, but no movement at all instead causes my mind pain. From factors more than one.
After brushing the floor of the entire room, I head outside to yard, intending to bring in the dishes Senya is washing. Momo is sniffing at something of the soil at the small garden and wags his tail at me as I slip on my scandals. Sweet scent of marigolds mingles in the air at a the side along with some other violet and pink flowers that I don't know the names to.
It's only noon but the sun has long been shielded over by a thick layer of clouds, coating the world in an endless white. Cool winds blow by, promising the chance of summer rain. Distant wind chimes clang like an indistinct melody. The peacefulness almost seems surreal. Hadn't I been somewhere else, admiring this view from afar? The lack of a presence beside me leaves me forever aching. A hollow never again fulfilled.
I force away the feeling.
Senya is about to finish washing some utensils when I approach. Her long brown curls hang gorgeously down her back.
"No, wait," she says when I reach for the pile of clean wares. "I'll bring them all in once I finish. You shouldn't carry anything heavy if you can help it."
I sometimes forget that she's around my age due to the level of her protectiveness. "I'm not that fragile," I tell her, resisting an urge to sigh. "Is there anything else I can help then?"
"Nothing more, I guess," Senya says, furiously rubbing off a stain on the pot she's washing. "What about you? Do you want to have a walk around the village?"
I've spent nearly a month away staying cooped up in her house, considering if my previous condition and all. These past days had been a great improvement. It's about time I start to move forward. Senya turns off the tap.
"A walk is nice," I say. "But do you know if I can get work somewhere here?"
"Work?" She sounds like she hadn't expected that.
I nod. "Any work at all. And before you start saying I'm not well enough again, I am."
Senya straightens and stretches her back like a cat. Her height dominates over mine. "Why would you want to work though?" she asks.
If I say it's a kind of recompense for all my medicine fees then she's going to refuse to tell me for sure. "I want to help you," I say instead. "And save up an amount to be able to return home."
"Oh." Disappointment is plain on her face, but she tries to hide it by bending down to pick up the dishes. Seeing it breaks my heart.
"I won't leave you behind, Senya," I say and wrestle the pot from her. Sudden tears flood my eyes right after the words left me.
My parents might be worrying sick, but I've never planned to walk away from the one who gave out so much effort to save me, and whom I'm beginning to count as my family as well. I can only hope mom and dad had that letter I've asked Takechi to send out.
Senya must've seen the look on my face, and seems to be fighting back her own tears. "Maybe we can go to your place together sometimes," she offers.
"Really?" I beam.
She giggles and walks to the house. "Let's see." I catch up to her. "But in this village, everyone's mostly looking after themselves so it might be hard to get you employed," she says, setting down the wares near the hearth. I suspend the lever of the pot onto the iron rod hanging above it.
"Is there any place at all that needs employment?" I ask.
Senya considers it for a moment. Then she jolts as if a thought practically hits her. "I think there is a place after all. The job would simply be chores, along with some serving around maybe," she says.
"Perfect," I reply instantly. Maybe too quickly because a strange smile is creeping up on her lips.
Senya clasps her hands courtly. "Then let's have you dressed up, shall we?"
_______________
After a daze, Senya holds out a wide mirror, which I have no idea where she first kept it, and lets me behold my form.
I'm dressed in a white kimono with designs of birds and bamboo leaves embroidered in a warm yellow with a matching sash. My hair has been pinned to the back of my head by a sparkling hair stick that dangles down from the knot. Senya even manages to paint my lips into a rosy flush.
I watch her in confusion as she goes to the closet and carefully places the mirror against the back of it. My several attempts on asking about the sudden fuss have been shushed by thrilled comments about my looks.
"Now aren't you going to tell me what this is about?" I ask her when she smiles at me like I'm her finished craft.
"You're going to work for the Mayor," she says, barely containing her excitement.
"The Mayor?" I repeat.
"Yes, he's the one in charge of this village," Senya answers. "And I hear that he's short on housemaids lately."
"But you could've done it yourself too," I say.
"And scare him away with my face? No!"
"How about my face?" I ask, not understanding her squeakiness.
"You're the most beautiful girl in this village now. He can't possibly decline," Senya asserts.
"That's not the point-"
"And he's a kind person," she goes on. "He'll listen to what you have to say and would probably hire you if he knows that working for him helps you instead."
I give it another thought. There's a chance right here. And as I've known from my previous lessons, I'm never really granted with the luxury of choices to make freely since the start.
I look to Senya. "I guess I'll give it a try."
______________
The way to the Mayor's estate is pretty much straight forward. We just need to head down the dirt road. I soon learn that Senya's house is located at the rear of the village while the Mayor's is at the opposite end.
We pass some of the folks along the way. They greet Senya fondly and question about me. Most of them have the strain of hard work, yet none have a particular dissatisfaction about the condition of their homes. Senya says it results from the Mayor generosity. Then she goes on about how he's still single despite his age.
It becomes more quiet when we travel further. The buildings on either side are wider now, probably belonging to those closely acquainted with the Mayor. Security guards stationed on each resident eye us as we pad through the paved pathway.
I have a hard time matching up with Senya even though she's walking at a casual place. When she finally stops I almost collide into her back.
"We're here," she says. She steps aside my view.
A giant tori gate stands high and mighty on its crimson pillars. Wooden fences stretch from both sides, acting as a barrier between the Mayor's property and the public. Stone lanterns line the pathway that leads deeper inside until the road ends in a curve. Tall healthy bamboos decorate the outer garden.
"Going down that way should lead to his office," Senya says beside me. "But first," she holds up a hand before I move on, "we need to state our purpose."
I follow her gaze and am surprise to notice for the first time a wooden shelter situated nearby. A man peers at us questioningly from within through the square window.
Senya proceeds toward the shelter. "Sir, my friend here would like an application for the Lord's employment," she says as I stop next to her. "Would you mind to permit us entry?"
The man's eyes flick to me. "Where are you from?"
I exchange a short glance with Senya before saying, "I'm from Edo, sir."
"And your purpose here is?" he questions, though not in a hostile manner.
"I'm coming here to stay with my friend." I gesture to Senya. "And I'd like to work for the Lord to sustain our living, sir," I say the obvious, wearing a smile that expresses anymore questions aren't favored.
The guard raises a brow. "All right then," he says after a short consideration.
I exchange another victory look with Senya. The man vanishes from the window and reappears outside dressed in a western-clothing. A katana rests at his waist.
"Come with me," he says to me, then to Senya, "And in the meantime, wait here."
At my distressed look, Senya offers an encouraging nod. "Good luck."
I try to muster up confidence and return the gesture. The guard leads me inside.
We move through the winding pathway until the bamboos gives in to trees that bend together from both sides. I suspect they're cherry blossoms. This place would look spectacular in spring. The ground is ornamented into the traditional stone courtyard. I hear the distant tick-tock of the two-bamboo fountain.
Soon enough, a structure looms head, isolated from the rest of the estate that stands behind. When we approach close enough I realize that the screen-doors are pushed open. Two figures at either side of the entrance slowly comes into my view along with another two inside.
The man urges me toward the entrance. I remove my scandals at the ground and ascend into the surface. The first person I see is a young man seated in the middle of the room, writing some documents on the low table. Another one is an elderly man remaining behind him at a respectful distance. He regards me with sharp eyes as I walk in.
"Shounou-sama, this woman requested for the vacant position at your honored estate," the guard says to the young man, already on his knees.
I haven't expected to be hired personally by the Mayor.
I quickly lower myself down to the standard procedure of greeting. The familiarity of the act almost makes me choke on my words. "It is an honor to meet you, my lord," I manage.
"You may rise," says a richly tender voice.
The guard and I sit up at the same time. My eyes meet a pair of warm brown. At this range I can figure out the reason behind Senya's fangirling over him. He has a pale oval face set with high cheekbones, exposing sharp jawlines. Charcoal black hair falls slightly over his forehead. His lips form a welcoming smile.
The guard silently excuses himself away, leaving me alone before this unknown man. A chill goes down my spine as nervousness kicks in.
"No need to tense," the Lord says, the easy smile still on. "I'm only going to ask you a few questions."
I try not to sound too rigid. "Certainly."
He places the document he has been writing aside and intertwines his hands on the table. "As you might already know, I'm the current Mayor of his village. My name is Shounou Ryougen," he says. "So first, I'd like to know your name."
I wet my lips and answer politely, "My name is Y/F/N, my lord."
"What makes you interested in working here?" he asks. I start to get the impression that he's questioning out of curiously than for business. Because, this in fact is not a business-related role.
"I wish to support my friend who is living here. My hometown is Edo but I will be staying here with her over an amount of time," I say with a lowered gaze.
He considers it. "If you don't mind, what is your friend making a living out of?"
"She picks herbs and medicines for the apothecary," I answer. His assistant, the elder man, assessed the session quietly.
"Are you not required to return back home?"
"No, my lord," I lie. Then not wanting him to prod any further, I bring my forehead down in another bow. "Therefore I hope you would take my request into consideration, my lord. I will offer you my best servitude."
The Mayor doesn't respond yet. The silence stretches on by the minute, twisting my stomach in suspense. My hands are beginning to numb underneath my head. I inwardly plead for the favorable word.
"You may work here, Y/N," he finally says.
The weight lifts off my shoulders as I sit back up. "Thank you, my lord," I say, beyond pleased to have one thing gone in my favor.
And now that it does, I'll be able to start a peaceful living again. Thanks to it, I'll have a reason to let go. Even if I can't promise myself that I can.