Upon Broken Wings
Takatsuki-han, November 1864
We had been on the train for a few hours, rolling through the pleasant fields of western Kansai. Although I had suffered the bonds upon my wrists for many weeks now, I only felt their tight grip when I gazed upon such beautiful scenery. The fields and paddies outside sped past in a blur, all joining together to form one fluid, ever-changing landscape. I had never travelled like this before. I needed to compose a poem.
Nishina, strange woman that she was, had left me alone in my seat, searching for a bathroom or food cart or something – I hadn’t been paying attention. Aside from myself, there were only three other people in the whole carriage; a group of soldiers dressed in purple livery – similar to that captain’s from Tarusaka Forest. They were talking amongst themselves, oblivious to anything else. How could they not look upon the majestic scenery flying past our windows?
Sulking, I leant back in my seat. It was at that point that a woman entered the carriage. At first I thought it was Nishina, but as I glanced at her, I realized she was a different creature altogether. Around the same age as my companion, but quite dissimilar. I had grown accustomed to the strange nun who travelled with me and her dull, drab clothes suited my own simple aesthetics. Yet this newcomer was an eyesore. I had to turn away immediately; find some peace in the natural beauty outside my window.
However, apparently I seemed interesting to this woman and she bounced over to take the seat opposite me. I refused to look at her, staring instead continuously out of the window.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” sighed the woman, following my gaze. I cast her a split-second glance, more out of instinct than anything else. Such an artificial woman, could she really appreciate the natural landscapes outside? I resolved to ignore her. She was obviously just bored and trying to make conversation.
“What’s your name?” she asked me. I was right. All she wanted was some small-talk on a long train journey. I didn’t answer, keeping my gaze fixed on the fields outside.
The woman tittered. “Not much of a talker ey?” she sighed and turned to join me in facing the window. “Maybe you’ve got the right idea. How often do we get to see Japan in all of its beauty like this? We should savour such moments.”
Again I didn’t respond, nor cast her a glance. She could talk all she wished. Speaking didn’t ruin a pleasant view. I find it fortunate my love is not of music or this woman would have been truly insufferable.
“Sometimes I wish I could write poems or stories to capture such scenes,” the woman spoke, in a faraway voice. “I feel like I carry so many burdens, it would be nice to find some solace in nature that way.”
My ears perked up. Could I really converse with such a woman? Yet I so wished to compose a poem. How many weeks had it been now? Against my better judgement, I turned to face her, gazing at her intently. All she had to do was ask me. She seemed quite keen to ask questions. She just had to ask me and I could finally write again.
“Are you a poet by any chance?”
A feeling washed over me. Something I hadn’t felt in…I could not remember how long. Was it relief? Joy? Happiness? It felt so alien, but so good. I couldn’t help it, but a smile stretched across my lips. I nodded in answer to her question.
She smiled sweetly at me in return, probably just happy to receive some acknowledgement from a stranger on a train. “Why don’t you write something then? You obviously appreciate this scenery very much.”
I bit my lip and glanced towards the end of the carriage. Nishina had yet to return. She would definitely be angry with me, yet I could not help myself. Slowly I lifted my bound wrists from beneath my coat and showed the woman beside me.
Her eyes widened, but oddly enough she didn’t question my predicament. Instead, she slid out a small dagger from under her robe and began to cut the bonds. The three soldiers glanced over, looking slightly wary, but a flash of a smile from my new friend and they returned to their conversation.
As the bonds fell away from my wrists, I felt happier and happier. Finally I was free to write again! “I’m guessing you don’t have paper or a brush?” she laughed knowingly with a wink. My eyes, filled with a new found appreciation for this woman, followed her as she bounced up from her seat and sidled over to the soldiers. Unable to refuse her – perhaps she was beautiful? – they gifted her with the tools I needed. She returned and thrust some paper into my hands, along with a small brush and pot of ink.
Immediately I set to work writing, as the woman watched from the seat beside me. I could not help myself, I wrote of the fields and how the shades of snow could all blend together – sometimes seeming like just one colour, at other times seeming like a million. I wrote of the clouds as they flew faster than birds and how the trees, forever rooted to the earth, somehow gained a rapid movement of their own as they sped past my window.
However, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman next to me frown somewhat, as she glanced at my poem. Why was she concerned? Did she not like my poetry? That was impossible surely.
Then, out of nowhere, Nishina burst into the carriage. I looked up to see her expression change from vapid to vengeful in a split second as she spied me writing. I knew that she would be angry to discover my bonds undone, yet I could not care at that moment. To compose poetry on such scenery, I would risk her wrath any day.
“Shinji!” she screamed. “Get out of there!”
That I did not expect. Was I in danger? I looked at the woman beside me. She had not even glanced up when Nishina had entered the carriage, still staring intently at my poetry. However, her joyful face had frozen and her now wide eyes were glued to the paper in front of me.
“That calligraphy…” she whispered. “I’ve seen it before…”