Red Plum Blossoms

By K. Bird Lincoln

The Emperor's favorite concubine remarked one day, as she basked in the great oak tub, how she had marveled at the plum blossom's beauty during the latest flower-viewing party held at Sakanoue no Haruzumi's riverside mansion.

"Not as much as the Emperor marveled at his daughter," countered the concubine's most bitter rival. The lesser concubines wisely did not comment, the Emperor's favorite had a well-known temper and was fiercely jealous of any potential rival. Yet silently they agreed.

Sakanoue no Haruzumi's only daughter had yet to be presented at court, but the rumors of her beauty penetrated even their cloistered existence. During the flower-viewing many of them were occupied in refined enjoyment of the well-kept gardens, as well as sampling the seasonal delicacies provided by the noble host. Many odes to the delicate blossoms of the particularly beautiful grove of trees in the middle of the garden were written and set afloat on the Katsura River. However, the Emperor had spent more time listening to the daughter's delicate koto playing, and fondling a length of her brocade sleeve that peeked out from behind the screens, than gazing upon the spring blossoms.

"These spring blossoms are beautiful,
But soon lose their blush to winter's frost," quoted the Emperor's favorite concubine, answering her rival's challenge.

"Overcome by the beauty of spring's yet und buds,
winter's bare branches seem more forlorn," replied the rival, causing a quickly stifled ripple of giggles from the other concubines. The Emperor's favorite was very sensitive about her age.

Sakanoue no Haruzumi was gazing at the subject of the concubines' debate from the veranda of his mansion. He, too, noticed the Emperor's marked attention to his daughter during the flower-viewing. As powerful as his position was, he did not have high hopes for his daughter's future. Growing up without a mother had ruined her for a proper marriage. Although her music abilities were beyond reproach, her education in other feminine areas was sadly lacking. As a grieving young widower, he didn't have the heart to discourage her from willful behavior. He regretted now allowing her unfeminine pursuit of learning, while at the same time wistfully recalling the summer evenings spent correcting her spidery Chinese characters.

But if the Emperor truly found his daughter to be a "spring blossom" maybe she could find a place among his concubines. Even should she be neglected later on, there would still be room for her as a lady-in-waiting for someone at court. Sakanoue no Haruzumi continued to watch his daughter gather fallen petals from the plum blossom grove as plans took shape in his mind.

Fujitsubo knew nothing of the court intrigues that conspired to ensnare her. Every spring, the fragrance of the plum grove intoxicated her with its rapturous scent, creeping through the shutters at night and mixing with her dreams. Now she gathered the fallen petals, loath to part with the tiniest one, in order to mix them with her incense and thus enjoy their scent a while longer. Long after her father had retired for the evening, Fujitsubo reclined underneath the grove, sipping tea, composing a poem for the season.

As a young child, she dreamed sometimes the smallest tree in the grove was the home of a kami, or spirit-god. At night, she stole rice-cakes and sweet mikan oranges to place at the roots as an offering. During the day she threw herself into her studies so she could write more and more complex poems to woo him. On nights when the moon was full, she even imagined the kami's handsome face, gazing at her from the branches of the plum blossom trees. Fujitsubo smiled to herself at the memory. The childish fantasy comforted her younger self, suddenly bereft of a mother, and unable to find refuge in the arms of a father himself stricken with grief.

"Won't you come inside and play something for your father?" said her maid, "he's asking for you."

"I will come right away," she answered.

But I will be back for you later tonight, she silently promised the plum blossom tree.

As the moon began its slow descent into pale dawn, Fujitsubo awoke suddenly, remembering her promise to the grove. Creeping quietly from underneath the layers of futon she slid the paper door The moonlight spilling across the grove only made the blossoms curiously forlorn and more attractive. She quickly walked, barefoot, across the cool stones to the trees, feeling the lump a mikan, carefully hidden there last night, made in her robe.

A shadow under the smallest tree, where there should be no shadow, made her stop, surprise robbing her of volition.

"Good evening," said the shadow. Fujitsubo turned to flee.

"And is the moon, unsure of the path,
Foredoomed to lose its way in the empty skies?" the shadow quoted.

The breath seemed to still in Fujitsubo's lungs. She froze. How could he know, she thought to herself. For the male voice recited the very poem she had traced with her calligraphy brush that evening. The intoxicating scent of red plum blossoms wove the air around her. Slowly, she turned to face the shadow, the words of the poem hanging in the air between them, dispelling her momentary fear.

The man stepped from underneath the boughs of the tree and Fujitsubo caught her breath. The large eyes and noble brow of her girlhood fantasy regarded her with a dark expression. She took a step towards him, the mikan falling from her hand, forgotten.

"I think I need not ask whose face it is,
that shines with evening dew in my dreams," Fujitsubo offered the first verse of another poem, written during her childhood, lying on crinkled rice paper under the plum blossom tree unanswered, all the long years since her mother's death. Could it be? Is it him? Did I really see something all those years ago?

"If you come closer, you will know,
This face among the evening plum blossoms," the man answered, drawing Fujitsubo into his embrace. She went with a heart full of wonder. His face, his touch, his smell, all perceived through the rosy gloss of her memories as a little girl. When the trees and the moon fell away and all her universe centered on this strange, yet familiar face, she was not frightened. He gently laid her on a bower of blossoms, joining her there where the flowers' heavy scent obliterated all else, even her rapidly beating heart.

When she awoke the next morning, cold and alone in the grove, his name remained like a ripe fruit on her tongue. Akanoume. She tasted her lover's name with her lips, finding the word sweet and sharp like his namesake; red plum blossom. Then, gathering her robe about her, she stole into her room before the maid could come to awaken her for the morning meal with her father.

The weeks passed quickly, Fujitsubo seemingly transformed into a quiet, dreamy woman, spending long hours gazing out the windows towards the garden. Her father approved of the change, no longer worried that her brash manners and manly pursuits might put off the Emperor. He decided to go to court as soon as possible in order to judge the Emperor's feelings towards Fujitsubo.

"The Emperor has agreed to accept you into the women's quarters this fall," said Sakanoue no Haruzumi to his daughter one morning. "It is an honor to be so graced by his attention."

"No!" cried Fujitsubo, horrified. "Don't make me leave you, father," she pleaded. Sakanoue no Haruzumi's heart broke at his daughter's words, but he was intent on making her future secure. He wasn't going to live forever, after all.

"Now don't cry," he tried to placate her, "you will be nearby, I can visit you. And you won't be so melancholy and alone all the time. The other women will be a good influence on your manners."

"I don't want to live at court with strangers, please let me stay here with you," begged Fujitsubo, covering her tear-streaked face with one long, embroidered kimono sleeve. Sakanoue no Haruzumi hardened his heart at this unseemly display of emotion. His daughter must go to the Emperor. There she would be secure even after his death.

"No more tears, daughter. You will do your filial duty. There is no more to be discussed. When the leaves turn gold, you will be moved to the summer palace." Signaling for his secretary, Sakanoue no Haruzumi left the room. Moments later, Fujitsubo heard the clatter of horseshoes on the broad stones at the front of the house and knew her father was gone.

Misery overwhelmed her. Fear was close on misery's heels. What would happen to her when they found she wasn't pure? How could she leave Akanoume? Fujitsubo's maids tried all afternoon to get their mistress to eat or come out from her room, to no avail. When Sakanoue no Haruzumi came back that evening, he found his daughter pale and disheveled, refusing to stir from her futon. For a moment, the sick form of his dying wife filled his mind, causing his resolve to waver. Then he remembered the pitiful sight of a nobleman's widow, reduced to rags, begging on a street corner for her daily gruel. The world could be cruel to a woman without protection.

As usual, when the even breathing of the sleeping maids finally filled the mansion, Fujitsubo crept from her futon and ran to the plum tree grove. The shadow of her lover seemed to coalesce from the heavy branches of the smallest tree, filling out until he cast his own shadow in the moonlight.

"My father wants to send me to court in the fall," she wept to Akanoume. He was silent, his dark eyes inscrutable and cold. "What shall I do?" For a long, terrible moment, Akanoume looked away from her, towards the pale globe filling the night sky. Cold doubt crept through Fujitsubo's limbs. Had she been foolish to think a kami would care about the fate of a human?

Then, the scent of plum blossoms whirled around her. The stars seemed to dance in the night sky in glad response. Dizzied by her senses, Fujitsubo crumpled into Akanoume's waiting arms. The welcome bower of plum blossoms rose up to meet her, and she was swept away in her lover's embrace.

Sometime during the night, Fujitsubo felt her spirit begin to draw in on itself, sinking deeper and deeper within her until it seemed she would be extinguished. Just when her fear threatened to escape through her lips, the scent of plum blossoms enfolded her in its heady perfume. All the muscles of her body collapsed in on themselves in a sudden jolt. Her spirit spiraled up to the heavens on the wings of that sharp sweetness, until reaching the clouds, she began to fall, gently towards the earth. Panicked, Fujitsubo reached out to catch the currents of air with her wings,ng her mouth to cry out, hearing a great crane's cry instead.

To her left, another crane beat the air with its strong wings, gazing at her with dark, challenging eyes. He reeled to the left, diving down, down to the earth, pulling up sharply to skim the surface of the Katsura river, then returning to Fujitsubo's side. In the arch of his neck there was a challenge.

The untried girl raised by a loving father's gentle hand reached down within herself and found a core of strength. Fujitsubo laughed her crane's whooping cry, and dove towards the earth, heady with the feel of wind through her feathers. As she reached the surface of the river, she burst through the water, suddenly finding herself with her back to the cold ground and Akanoume gone. The cruel face of the morning sun peeked over the mountains to the east. In her mind was Akanoume's voice.

"Lonely the voice of the crane among the clouds,
Gone the white bird that sang greeting with him to each morning sun."

With his voice came an overwhelming wave of loneliness. Fujitsubo's eyes brimmed with tears. How could she live apart from him in the stifling confines of the concubines' quarters at the palace? Even death would be preferable to accepting the embrace of the Emperor. But did she have the courage to escape her father's plans? Something scratched her right hand. Fujitsubo looked down at herpalm, blurry through her tears. In her hand was a single, white feather, shining like a promise in the dawn's light.

The day when Fujitsubo would move to the Emperor's palace came sooner than Sakanoue no Haruzumi wished. While committed to his plan, his heart still was saddened by the separation. He would be alone now in the mansion by the river. There would be no daughter now to lighten a weary afternoon with conversation, nor to play the koto in the evening, the delicately plucked chords soothing him to sleep. Fujitsubo surprised him with her obedience after that one outburst. Docile now, she even consented to being fitted with new robes, embroidered in precious gold and silver thread, for her formal introduction to the Emperor. When he praised her beauty in the new robes, Fujitsubo smiled weakly.

"It makes my heart glad to see you proud of me, father."

"I will be more proud when the entire court sees what a flower I have kept hidden all these years," replied Sakanoue no Haruzumi.

"And does the lily wilt under the jealous sun?
Or will the tears of one left behind sustain its roots?" quoted Fujitsubo, allowing this one mention of her sadness at their parting. Sakanoue no Haruzumi approved of his daughter's artfully chosen expression of emotion. At least in knowledge of the classics, none of the Emperor's concubines could rival his daughter. Surely her future was well secured.

That night, Sakanoue no Haruzumi slept restlessly in his futon. The smell of the last of the season's plum blossoms seemed overpoweringly strong, making his dreams fitful and strange. He saw a beautiful crane circling in the unbroken blue of a summer sky. The crane dove to the earth, catching a plum blossom in its mouth, then soared higher and higher until the sun's rays dazzled him and he could look no longer. When he awoke, groggy from his dream, Sakanoue no Haruzumi heard the cry of cranes, echoing across the Katsura.

"Master, master! Come quick! Fujitsubo-san is missing" came the frantic voice of his maid through the screens. Irritated by the noise, Sakanoue no Haruzumi snapped at the unfortunate servant.

"Check the garden. She's just out walking or sitting in the plum blossom grove."

"No Master, I am so sorry. We have searched everywhere. She is nowhere to be seen."

Fear sent tiny tendrils of ice through Sakanoue no Haruzumi's heart. A vision of a drowned woman he had once seen after a storm reared its ghastly face before his mind's eye. No, Fujitsubo would not commit suicide. She had been so obedient recently, surely the servants just missed her!

Not stopping to change his sleeping robe, Sakanoue no Haruzumi leapt out of his futon and pulled back the paper shoji. He ran to the river with a heart full of dread, but found no trace of his daughter's clothes. The servants searched the entire grounds three times over under his strict supervision to no avail. The only thing they brought back to the man sitting on his veranda, head hung in grief, was a single, white crane feather. Sakanoue no Haruzumi held the feather in his hand, remembering his strange dream of the night before. The heavy sweetness of plum blossom wafted through the air. He turned to face the grove as the very last blossom fell gently to the ground. The grove was now bare. Sakanoue no Haruzumi looked up into the sky, just in time to catch a glimpse of two majestic cranes, winging their way south; towards the ocean and freedom.

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