From: unagim@aol.com (Unagi M)
Date: 24 Nov 1999 10:11:53 EST
Present, then absent. Here, then gone. Now she had returned again - but in such appalling shape.
Perhaps the reason for her last leaving could be laid at his feet. He would not make such a mistake again.
Whatever happened, his hospitality would not be at fault.
And so he led her for the second time through the darkening streets toward his dwelling... and when she stumbled he lifted her easily, left arm under the frightfully thin shoulders, right arm under her knees.
The grimy blanket grated against his chest and he bit down his revulsion at its overripe scent. "Bath" she had said. Bath indeed... and food... and medicine, likely. What had happened to Nyan-nyan?
Unagi's steady stride soon reached the gate in the pallisade and his curt command gained entrance and more.
Bearing his precious, tattered burden, Unagi turned down the hallway to rooms she has not seen - his own private quarters in the compound. Moving noiselessly over the cricketwood floors he deftly slides open a shoji screen panel with one foot and carries her into the chamber.
The gurgle of water greets their ears, rising from a marble lined pool in the corner of the room. Carefully he sets her down on the tatami mat, his hands testing the temperature of her hands and feet.
"Too cold" he mutters and chafes her wrists and ankles lightly - knowing how readily cold flesh is damaged by abrasion and too much heat.
Lifting her easily again, he moves toward the low end of the pool, where the heat from the hot springs that feed into the marble basin is already partly spent before it drains away in a small stream that exits the room through an artful low archway.
The hiss of a breath drawn suddenly in between bared teeth accompanies the gentle unwrapping of the filth-laden blanket. It is her bruises, not her nakedness, that startles him. Placing his arms with care to avoid the worst of the mottled purple-black, Unagi lifts her once again, and mindless of his own kimono, bears her into the warmly lapping waters.
Another gutteral command cast over his shoulder brings a maid through the still open shoji screen.
"Bring sponge, towels, plum wine, quickly."
"And take... this..." indicating the grimy blanket with a twist of his head, "and burn it."
House Miyamoto - Nyan-nyan Returns
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From: unagim@aol.com (Unagi M)
Date: 24 Nov 1999 10:14:22 EST
Supporting her shoulders and head, Unagi allowed the movement of the warm stream flowing through the pool to lift away the worst of the grime. Nyan-nyan's hair, thickly matted, washed over his wrists as he held her. Soon the maid returned, and Unagi shifted his water-eased burden to free one of his arms - and one of hers. The sponge was gentle but efficient against her skin, washing away the dirt if not
the deep purple bruises. No harsh scrubbbing this, as Yoshino had done when last Nyan-nyan stayed at Miyamoto - Unagi was exquisitely attentive... and tender in his touch.
When a low moan signaled that even his gentleness brought remembered pain to wounds not so old, Unagi paused in his work to wet the corner of a towel in the rich plum wine. Touched to her lips so she might drink without effort, the sweet liquor brought a Nyan-nyan a brief raising of strength - and swiftly after a relaxed oblivion.
As she slept, Unagi finished bathing her, slowly drawing them both upstream across the length of the pool, toward waters ever hotter and more healing. With her skin glowing pink in the steamy pool, at least where it was not marred by deep though now percepitably lessened hematomata, Unagi turned his care to nails and hair. The former were ragged, and he shaped them as best he could with the only tools immediately available - his teeth. Then, while
the light current kept her balanced against his chest, Unagi's blunt fingers, lubricated with a palm-full of the ruby plum wine, scrubbed easily and persistently at the tangles of Nyan-nyan's hair.
Her strange ears were tattered, and Unagi's ebon eyes glittered at the damage. Here the
plum wine served as an astringent, stanching the bleeding and helping the torn tissues draw together.
Finally, all that could be done was, and he lifted her up from the water at the pool's edge to place her carefully on a large spread towel. Pausing only to climb from the water himself, he dried her warm and resting body and wrapped her in the towel's large folds.
Fragile and feral yet she looked, lying there, as he summoned the maid once again.
The haiku came unbidden to his mind...
Behind the windows
of the soul the tigress sleeps.
Walk quietly now.
Oko brought two kimonos with her and while she deftly dressed the sleeping Nyan-nyan in one Unagi took the other. He unabashedly stripped off his own streaming garment and quickly towelled dry, then slipped into the other even as Oko finished clothing the sleeping woman.
"We wi'rr sleep now. In eight hour, or earlier if I ca'rr, bring fresh raw ye'rrowfin and sticky rice. She wi'rr need strength after rest."
Oko nodded in acknowledgement and glided away. Unagi lifted Nyan-nyan, wrapped in the finest silk the house had to offer, and carried her through the open shoji panel across the hall to his own rooms. In the low light of a paper lantern he saw to his approval that his usual rough tatami sleeping mat had been covered with a thick quilt lined with down. For a body as bruised as hers, only "sleeping upon the clouds" would suffice.
Silk whispered against down as he laid her on the cloud. A moment later he was supine as well, cradling the least damaged side of her body against his chest.
The rising sun would bring what may. But for this night at least, Nyan-nyan would have shelter, not just in Unagi's house, but within his arms as well.
Date: 24 Nov 1999 10:14:22 EST
Supporting her shoulders and head, Unagi allowed the movement of the warm stream flowing through the pool to lift away the worst of the grime. Nyan-nyan's hair, thickly matted, washed over his wrists as he held her. Soon the maid returned, and Unagi shifted his water-eased burden to free one of his arms - and one of hers. The sponge was gentle but efficient against her skin, washing away the dirt if not
the deep purple bruises. No harsh scrubbbing this, as Yoshino had done when last Nyan-nyan stayed at Miyamoto - Unagi was exquisitely attentive... and tender in his touch.
When a low moan signaled that even his gentleness brought remembered pain to wounds not so old, Unagi paused in his work to wet the corner of a towel in the rich plum wine. Touched to her lips so she might drink without effort, the sweet liquor brought a Nyan-nyan a brief raising of strength - and swiftly after a relaxed oblivion.
As she slept, Unagi finished bathing her, slowly drawing them both upstream across the length of the pool, toward waters ever hotter and more healing. With her skin glowing pink in the steamy pool, at least where it was not marred by deep though now percepitably lessened hematomata, Unagi turned his care to nails and hair. The former were ragged, and he shaped them as best he could with the only tools immediately available - his teeth. Then, while
the light current kept her balanced against his chest, Unagi's blunt fingers, lubricated with a palm-full of the ruby plum wine, scrubbed easily and persistently at the tangles of Nyan-nyan's hair.
Her strange ears were tattered, and Unagi's ebon eyes glittered at the damage. Here the
plum wine served as an astringent, stanching the bleeding and helping the torn tissues draw together.
Finally, all that could be done was, and he lifted her up from the water at the pool's edge to place her carefully on a large spread towel. Pausing only to climb from the water himself, he dried her warm and resting body and wrapped her in the towel's large folds.
Fragile and feral yet she looked, lying there, as he summoned the maid once again.
The haiku came unbidden to his mind...
Behind the windows
of the soul the tigress sleeps.
Walk quietly now.
Oko brought two kimonos with her and while she deftly dressed the sleeping Nyan-nyan in one Unagi took the other. He unabashedly stripped off his own streaming garment and quickly towelled dry, then slipped into the other even as Oko finished clothing the sleeping woman.
"We wi'rr sleep now. In eight hour, or earlier if I ca'rr, bring fresh raw ye'rrowfin and sticky rice. She wi'rr need strength after rest."
Oko nodded in acknowledgement and glided away. Unagi lifted Nyan-nyan, wrapped in the finest silk the house had to offer, and carried her through the open shoji panel across the hall to his own rooms. In the low light of a paper lantern he saw to his approval that his usual rough tatami sleeping mat had been covered with a thick quilt lined with down. For a body as bruised as hers, only "sleeping upon the clouds" would suffice.
Silk whispered against down as he laid her on the cloud. A moment later he was supine as well, cradling the least damaged side of her body against his chest.
The rising sun would bring what may. But for this night at least, Nyan-nyan would have shelter, not just in Unagi's house, but within his arms as well.