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In soft flutters and cold spots, the snow drifted down from the cloudy sky, landing on the once green grass to lay, and blanket the land in a pure white. The village was not spared, but the villagers didn’t seem to mind doing business in the freezing weather. The kids laughed and played in joy, building fortresses and houses and having snowball fights. As you headed home from discussing spring’s plans with the other wives, you couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on your red cheeks at watching the children.
Your village was small, everybody knew each other and welcomed anyone new with open arms. Everyone each had their own daily tasks, jobs, and even their own hobbies, nobody was the same. Your husband, Hajime Hinata, was a hunter, while you were a seamstress. With his hunting, you were able to sew blankets and fur jackets for the village, and you made a good profit doing so.
But, you profited from being able to be warm for the cold winters. Sheltered in your home near the forest, the blankets kept both you, and your husband, cozy.
On another snowy night, you found yourselves cuddling together near the fire he started minutes before. You told each other of your days, how the children were playing, how delicious dinner was, and especially your plans for the upcoming spring.
With a soft laugh, Hajime turned his head to gaze out the cracked door, looking at the falling snow. “It snowed like this when we first met, you know,” he smiled, looking down at you.
Looking back, you recalled the day you met the love of your life. How you had taken shelter in his home from the equally cold night with a blanket over your head. How, when you first locked eyes after he slid open the door, your cheeks flushed and a grin found itself onto your face.
Quickly flushing red, you turned and buried your face into his shoulder, hearing another soft laugh leave him. The crackling of the fire lulled your senses to a standstill, and the shadows, which lapped on the walls behind you, were soon darkened by the shadows cast by the large sleeve of his kimono. His hand sifted through your hair, and soon you both fell into a quiet silence once again.
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Finally, spring has come again, and as you stepped outside into the sun beaming down, you took a deep breath of the scent of the flowers. Your feet carried you to the edge of your lawn, near the rock path that leads to the rest of the village.
The calming tweets of birds caught your attention, and as you gazed up into the trees full of leaves, you caught sight of the mother bird with her children. She tweeted, calling to you, and you held your delicate fingers out for her to land on. She obliged, flying down from her nest to land on the edge of your pointer finger.
Full of happiness, you began to sing to the birds, and soon they joined you, a beautiful chorus blooming from your vocalizing and the bird’s songs.
“When you sing, everything’s beautiful,” Hajime had spoken when the mother bird flew back to her nest of chicks.
Your cheeks had flushed a deep red as you turned to face him, noticing he had just got done sorting the twigs to store away for next winter. His compliments never failed to turn you into a blushing maiden, but they made you very happy all the same.
Your look of shock soon melted into a calming smile.
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Once your duties were done for the day, you both found yourselves at the edge of the porch. His head nestled comfortably in your lap, and your legs hanging off the wood. Your hands carded through his pointy hair, and quiet chatter filled the air made of wind and the sounds of conversations from the nearby village. Though, you looked down at his peaceful face, and with a soft look, you asked a question.
“If there’s a day, my voice has gone away; if I can’t sing anymore, would you still be here with me, would you still love me as you did before?” You asked, your fingers coming to rest on the floor.
A quick look of shock crossed over his warm features, but it soon melted away to a gentle smile. Reaching up, he let his hand slide over your cheek, cupping it. “But, of course,” he replied, soothing your fears with his honeydew voice.
Sniffling, you felt as a stray tear drifted down your cheek, closing your eyes to lean into his hand.
With Hajime with you, supporting you, you would wish for nothing more.
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While the snow blanketed the forest, Hajime adjusted his hat so he could properly see in the thick forest. Hajime was checking the traps he set up for potential prey through the woods, and by the sounds of a commotion to his left, he assumed he caught one.
But, as he rounded the corner with his rifle drawn, he froze in his tracks as he spotted a beautiful crane trying to escape the rope tied around its ankle. It’s wings were whiter than even the snow, and underneath he could see they were grey, even black. It wasn’t making a sound, but their wings were loud, they could draw other hunters where they would shoot it down. The crane was not injured, thankfully, but the rope around its ankle was a problem.
Approaching carefully, Hajime kneeled and started to undo the knot. It took a bit, as the rope was tight, but once the crane could move, it flew into the snowy sky. As it soared away, Hajime gazed at it, watching it until it was nothing more than a dot.
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One summer’s afternoon, you gathered the vegetables and fruits into your basket to clean and prepare them for lunch. While Hajime plowed into the dry land to plant more fruits.
As you rose to wipe your sweaty cheek, you were shaken to the core as a rough cough seized Hajime. With the lightest on your mind, you turned over to check on him, but…
You saw his hand filled with blood, and you dropped your basket as you ran over to him.
Minutes later, your village doctor determined that he was struck with an illness that affected his lungs, and he only had months to receive proper medicine to be able to be his normal self again.
But, with what profits you made, you couldn’t afford the medicine to heal your husband. So, while he rested, you slid open the door to the loom and your sewing supplies. Immediately, you began to make fabrics of the finest silk--with feathers. You put detail into every stitch, and folded them with the utmost delicacy. You would race against the falling leaves, delivering the fabrics to your paying customers and returning to make another piece of cloth that would add to your profits.
Moments where you messed up, you would silently close your eyes, telling yourself over and over that this for your husband and that you can start again or undo your mistake. Your faith ran high, and so did your hope.
You held in your cries, for the sake of your love. You would save him, you’d bring him back to normal, even at the cost of your life.
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Soon, autumn falls upon the village, and with it the crickets chirp their goodbyes. You add more twigs to the fire, to keep the room warm, and soon you hear Hajime stir beneath his bed. You rub your tired eyes as you hold a hot cup of tea filled with medicine your village doctor prescribed. Your hands ached with both injuries and looming at the loom for most of the morning, but you always found the time to care for Hajime. Kneeling beside him, you helped him sit up with a hand on his back. Looking down at his pale face, you felt a cord strike in your heart at his still very warm smile. Even if he was pained with his illness, Hajime kept smiling, and it’s what spurred you on. To see his smile every day for the rest of your life.
You helped him drink his tea, feeding him the fruits you collected from the last harvest of your garden, to soothe his surely aching throat. Though, when you raised your hands to help him sip some more tea, he stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Blinking in question, you pursed your lips as he started to rub his fingers across your scratched up and bloodied fingers.
“Your hands are so delicate, filled with beauty and life,” he said.
But, even his compliment couldn’t stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. As he cradled your wounded hands, he couldn’t tell that his own were as cold as winter ice.
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After dinner, you couldn’t help yourself as you pressed your warm body to his cold back. Your arms wrapped around his middle, and your head laying on his shoulder. Another coughing fit racked through his frail body, and despite being shaken with him, you moved closer, letting out the quiet sobs you’ve been holding back this whole time. You couldn’t stand him being in so much pain, you couldn’t stand to have the thin wall separating you both as you loomed, but… you couldn’t let him find out what you were, what you are.
You were eternally grateful to him, so to hear the coughs that are surely bringing blood with them, you clenched his robe in your aching hands.
When his coughs died down, and your sobs did too, you felt your lips part, and soon you asked: “If there’s a day my hands have lost their glow, if I can’t weave anymore, would you still be here with me; Would you still love me as you did before?”
Hajime froze for a second, before he coughed into his sleeve once more. “But, of course,” was his reply, as he moved his hand hold yours.
As if trying to hold the pain within your grip.
Once you heard his reply, you turned your head so your nose faced the ground, and you finally let out your full sobs.
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There was no time to sleep, to heal, or eat, the price for your fabrics were higher than they ever were before, and people were fumbling over each other to be able to wear what you sewed.
In the cold weather, you’d travel from village to village and gain more and more money to afford the medicine. It was losing its worth fast, but it will heal your husband!
Even if your feathers are sacrificed, even if your fingers are no more, you’re still racing to the next village, collecting their money and racing back to care for Hajime.
For every cough, every whimper, and especially every cry, you’d do your best to heal him.
After all, you owe him your life.
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Sliding open the door, Hajime stepped out to gaze at the sunset that framed the edges of the land. The breeze soothed his weary soul, for his wife is out to the village of the north.
He took a deep breath, one that filled his tired lungs with the fresh, crisp scent of the fire that flowed from inside.
He had enough energy to sit on the porch, looking over what was left of the once beautiful garden from summer. He could see the rotten fruits, and the vegetables that couldn’t make it to your lovely dinners. He sighed, the decaying fruits did bring his spirits down, and he couldn’t help but wonder about his end as well.
Would he decay just like the fruits in winter? Would his coughs soon become too much for him?
Would it happen while you were away?
Shaking his head, Hajime rid those thoughts from his head, looking out towards the horizon, where he could soon see your head peeking over it. Smiling warmly, he raised his hand to wave, and once he noticed you slowed down considerably from a run to a walk, once you were smiling back, he knew he had nothing to worry about, if he’s with you.
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Winter had come slowly, the snow falling more bitterly, and even as your thoughts always drifted back to the time where you both met, you couldn’t help but also think about his current state.
You were able to get him the medicine, but after a week of feeding it to him, you didn’t see any progress on him getting better at all. He was still in pain, still coughing, still so hurt that you couldn’t stand the medicine you worked so hard for not working.
But, your faith was still held strong, and as you sat in your working room, you found yourself staring down at your machine.
You were familiar with the loom that sat in front of you, as you were with everything else in this room. You held the last feather in your shaky fingers, one that would complete the wedding dress you have crafted. Your face was caked with dried tears, stress, and worry.
Taking a shaky breath, you closed your eyes, speaking to your sleeping husband.
“If there’s a day when I am not the same, not human anymore. Would you still be here with me; Would you still love me as you did before?” You whispered, receiving nothing to soothe your worries.
No gentle voice, no embraces… just silence.
You still feared the truth of what you are, you haven’t told him… who you really were, and what he did for you so many years ago.
With that, you reached out, preparing to use the last of your feathers…
“But, of course,” you gasped as arms wrapped around you from behind. The warmth that you had craved for so long finally warming your aching body. Hajime pressed himself so close to you, that you couldn’t help as you placed your cut hands on his now warm arms.
“Ha-Hajime…!” You whispered, tears once again filling your tired eyes.
“I’ll keep my promise to embrace you, and even though you’re without wings, I’ll love you even more.” You throat tightened up, and your vision wavered with the tears that flooded your eyes and slid down your cheeks. “And that crane, which once so beautifully, had taken flight that winter day… I’ll remember for forever, how you spread your wings and soared.” His arms tightened around you, and he held you as you cried.
“And as always, for forever, ‘til the end… I’ll love you as before.”