Hope is a Butterfly
by Kakita Kaori
A story of Asahina Osamu, a teacher in the Empire of the Emerald Stars
Asahina Osamu entered his quarters, feeling downcast. The door slid shut behind him. For a moment, all was quiet, except for the stirring of a distant memory.
...A shuttle zooms in the white clouds above an azure sea. On board, twelve little boys and girls, between the ages of six and eight, sit still and frightened, eyes fixed on grizzled old man who stands at the front of the cabin. He is dressed in the long, formal white and blue robes of the Asahina, a gnarled staff in his hand. "Now, children. Soon we will be landing in the Ancient land of Rokguan, the land of our ancestors since the dawn of the Empire. If you look out the window, you will see on the left, Earthquake Fish bay, where the Great Kumo has arisen time and again to test us. And further south, what was once the Shadowlands, that portal to Jigoku from which evil has arisen time and again. But our Destination is The Temple of the Morning Sun, Shinden Asahina. It is there each of you will be tested. This will be the hardest test of your lives. For those who succeed and pass this test, glory for them, and for their family. You will be granted access to the most powerful and deepest secrets the Asahina have to offer. You have the potential to learn more than any of your peers, knowledge that can change the world. For the rest...it is only minor shame. Only few have access to such secrets. Your families will know of your failure, of course, but you may continue your education at your home school and grow to still be good sons and daughters of the Asahina. Do you understand? " The children nod their understanding, including one, a little boy with glasses, no more than six, in shorts and a colorful kimono decorated with spaceships. A boy that would one day be Osamu. "I trust you will all do your best." The shuttled rattled slightly as it began its descent.
Osamu went up to his small portable shrine and knelt down before it, taking the opportunity to light the grain of incense that waited for him there. As he began his prayers, the memories washed over him, again.
Disembarking....the huge temple thousands of years old...being led through the gates...
The group of them are led through the ancient stone corridors, forbidding and cold, with writing and images covering every square inch. Osamu is last, gawking, short legs causing him to lag behind. The middle-aged woman leading them pauses between a pair of closed wooden doors on either side of the hallway. "We are almost to your chambers where you can sleep tonight and prepare for your test. We have separate rooms for each of you. Your test will begin in the morning, through this door here." She points to the door on the right. "And you must not go through this door here." She points to the door on the left. "That door is only for those who have passed the tests. Are there any questions?" The children, too overwhelmed with awe, say nothing, but they look between the two doors with wide eyes. The woman leads them on.
The smell of incense filled the air, a familiar, smoky perfume Osamu knew too well. But now, it brings back not the nearer, raw memories of the recent past. But the distant memories of a time long before.
So scared and nervous about the test he almost threw up, tossing and turning in the dark. The thoughts churn in Osamu's head. What would the test be like? What was behind that other door? Maybe... Maybe the answers were through there. There was a tiny flash of temptation. He did not want to disappoint his parents by failing this huge test. But, no. His father had told him....Knowledge was to be earned. Not merely learned. If he hadn't earned it by doing well on the test on his own, he didn't deserve it. There were the sounds of footsteps in the dark...but very soft. Osamu tried to sleep.
Osamu opened his eyes from his prayers, and slowly reached forward and opened one of the small drawers of the shrine before him, where his kugi-kiri supplies are kept. Reaching in, he pulled out a small, origami of faded pink paper, cradling it in his hands. A small smile creased his lips as the memory stirred.
A waiting room. A cold stone bench. And the young boy, struggling to hide his sniffles as he is squeezed into the corner. It had been a long time since he finished his test...and each moment was making him feel worse. He knew he had failed...it took everything he had just to solve the first two problems, and after the third question, the questions themselves seemed like complete nonsense. It would have been bad enough, failing like that, but he had seen the expressions of concern, the frowns on the faces of the sensei who had been observing him complete his test. The way they started talking amongst each other as soon as they began reviewing his answers. Obviously, he must have done much worse than they had ever seen before. Was he really that stupid? Did he embarrass his parents as well as fail? Why hadn't they come yet?
Finally, a boy, no more than fourteen, enters the room. He has long white hair and a jaunty smile, despite wearing formal robes. "Hey, what are you doing here?" the boy asks. "Are you crying?"
The six-year-old with glasses looks up and sniffs. "They're talking about me. I must have done so terribly....I only got one right...I'm not sure about the second. I'm sure everyone else did much better."
The older boy laughs. "Only one? No wonder they are talking about you. But I don't think you have to worry. Everything will be all right. You'll see. I bet you will still be a great shugenja one day anyway." His tone is kind and reassuring.
"Really? But how do I be a great shugenja?" Osamu's lips quiver, but it is clear he is trying to suppress his worried tears.
"You find what you love to do, and you do it to the best of your ability. You don't need to worry about anything else. That's really all you need." The older boy sits down next to Osamu on the bench, laying a reassuring hand on the younger boy's knee.
It isn't enough for the serious boy "But...but what if I mess up again? What if I let everyone down?" The thought of his parents' disappointment broke his heart.
With a smirk, the teenager reaches into his robe and pulls out a piece of pink paper and begins to fold it. "The kami will always be there to help you." He creases it in half, and half again. "But, tell you what...." With more creases, a shape, a single butterfly, begins to form in his skilled fingers. Cradling it then in one palm, he holds the other over it and murmured a prayer. "There. Look, the kami will help you. Your ancestors guide you, and the Fortunes protect you. But if they're /still/ not enough, I'll give you this. When you really, really think you need help...that you can't do something by yourself, that you'll let everyone down...Open this. The kami inside will come to your aid and give you the skill you need to overcome the challenge that's facing you. So you know you won't fail."
Osamu accepts the gift with trembling hands, too awed to refuse it twice, which makes the older boy grin. Then the teen stands. "Good luck, kid. What is your name, anyway?" "Hikari." The six-year-old gives an awkward bow. "Really? You seem more like an Osamu to me. My name's Ryutaro. Or it will be when I gempukku next year. Well, I need to go! Bye!" And with that, he is gone.
Osamu gazed down at the little butterfly, worn with the passage of the years. He had kept it, treasured all this time. There were times he was almost ready to use it, but he remembered Ryutaro's words, and muddled through. And Ryutaro?
A wistful curve graced Osamu's lips. He'd watched his televised speech before they had left the starbase....the Asahina daimyo pleading for peace between the Dragon and the Spider.
Gently carrying the butterfly cupped in his hands, feeling the sleepy little kami deep within, he turned and left his room.
A story of Asahina Osamu, a teacher in the Empire of the Emerald Stars
Asahina Osamu entered his quarters, feeling downcast. The door slid shut behind him. For a moment, all was quiet, except for the stirring of a distant memory.
...A shuttle zooms in the white clouds above an azure sea. On board, twelve little boys and girls, between the ages of six and eight, sit still and frightened, eyes fixed on grizzled old man who stands at the front of the cabin. He is dressed in the long, formal white and blue robes of the Asahina, a gnarled staff in his hand. "Now, children. Soon we will be landing in the Ancient land of Rokguan, the land of our ancestors since the dawn of the Empire. If you look out the window, you will see on the left, Earthquake Fish bay, where the Great Kumo has arisen time and again to test us. And further south, what was once the Shadowlands, that portal to Jigoku from which evil has arisen time and again. But our Destination is The Temple of the Morning Sun, Shinden Asahina. It is there each of you will be tested. This will be the hardest test of your lives. For those who succeed and pass this test, glory for them, and for their family. You will be granted access to the most powerful and deepest secrets the Asahina have to offer. You have the potential to learn more than any of your peers, knowledge that can change the world. For the rest...it is only minor shame. Only few have access to such secrets. Your families will know of your failure, of course, but you may continue your education at your home school and grow to still be good sons and daughters of the Asahina. Do you understand? " The children nod their understanding, including one, a little boy with glasses, no more than six, in shorts and a colorful kimono decorated with spaceships. A boy that would one day be Osamu. "I trust you will all do your best." The shuttled rattled slightly as it began its descent.
Osamu went up to his small portable shrine and knelt down before it, taking the opportunity to light the grain of incense that waited for him there. As he began his prayers, the memories washed over him, again.
Disembarking....the huge temple thousands of years old...being led through the gates...
The group of them are led through the ancient stone corridors, forbidding and cold, with writing and images covering every square inch. Osamu is last, gawking, short legs causing him to lag behind. The middle-aged woman leading them pauses between a pair of closed wooden doors on either side of the hallway. "We are almost to your chambers where you can sleep tonight and prepare for your test. We have separate rooms for each of you. Your test will begin in the morning, through this door here." She points to the door on the right. "And you must not go through this door here." She points to the door on the left. "That door is only for those who have passed the tests. Are there any questions?" The children, too overwhelmed with awe, say nothing, but they look between the two doors with wide eyes. The woman leads them on.
The smell of incense filled the air, a familiar, smoky perfume Osamu knew too well. But now, it brings back not the nearer, raw memories of the recent past. But the distant memories of a time long before.
So scared and nervous about the test he almost threw up, tossing and turning in the dark. The thoughts churn in Osamu's head. What would the test be like? What was behind that other door? Maybe... Maybe the answers were through there. There was a tiny flash of temptation. He did not want to disappoint his parents by failing this huge test. But, no. His father had told him....Knowledge was to be earned. Not merely learned. If he hadn't earned it by doing well on the test on his own, he didn't deserve it. There were the sounds of footsteps in the dark...but very soft. Osamu tried to sleep.
Osamu opened his eyes from his prayers, and slowly reached forward and opened one of the small drawers of the shrine before him, where his kugi-kiri supplies are kept. Reaching in, he pulled out a small, origami of faded pink paper, cradling it in his hands. A small smile creased his lips as the memory stirred.
A waiting room. A cold stone bench. And the young boy, struggling to hide his sniffles as he is squeezed into the corner. It had been a long time since he finished his test...and each moment was making him feel worse. He knew he had failed...it took everything he had just to solve the first two problems, and after the third question, the questions themselves seemed like complete nonsense. It would have been bad enough, failing like that, but he had seen the expressions of concern, the frowns on the faces of the sensei who had been observing him complete his test. The way they started talking amongst each other as soon as they began reviewing his answers. Obviously, he must have done much worse than they had ever seen before. Was he really that stupid? Did he embarrass his parents as well as fail? Why hadn't they come yet?
Finally, a boy, no more than fourteen, enters the room. He has long white hair and a jaunty smile, despite wearing formal robes. "Hey, what are you doing here?" the boy asks. "Are you crying?"
The six-year-old with glasses looks up and sniffs. "They're talking about me. I must have done so terribly....I only got one right...I'm not sure about the second. I'm sure everyone else did much better."
The older boy laughs. "Only one? No wonder they are talking about you. But I don't think you have to worry. Everything will be all right. You'll see. I bet you will still be a great shugenja one day anyway." His tone is kind and reassuring.
"Really? But how do I be a great shugenja?" Osamu's lips quiver, but it is clear he is trying to suppress his worried tears.
"You find what you love to do, and you do it to the best of your ability. You don't need to worry about anything else. That's really all you need." The older boy sits down next to Osamu on the bench, laying a reassuring hand on the younger boy's knee.
It isn't enough for the serious boy "But...but what if I mess up again? What if I let everyone down?" The thought of his parents' disappointment broke his heart.
With a smirk, the teenager reaches into his robe and pulls out a piece of pink paper and begins to fold it. "The kami will always be there to help you." He creases it in half, and half again. "But, tell you what...." With more creases, a shape, a single butterfly, begins to form in his skilled fingers. Cradling it then in one palm, he holds the other over it and murmured a prayer. "There. Look, the kami will help you. Your ancestors guide you, and the Fortunes protect you. But if they're /still/ not enough, I'll give you this. When you really, really think you need help...that you can't do something by yourself, that you'll let everyone down...Open this. The kami inside will come to your aid and give you the skill you need to overcome the challenge that's facing you. So you know you won't fail."
Osamu accepts the gift with trembling hands, too awed to refuse it twice, which makes the older boy grin. Then the teen stands. "Good luck, kid. What is your name, anyway?" "Hikari." The six-year-old gives an awkward bow. "Really? You seem more like an Osamu to me. My name's Ryutaro. Or it will be when I gempukku next year. Well, I need to go! Bye!" And with that, he is gone.
Osamu gazed down at the little butterfly, worn with the passage of the years. He had kept it, treasured all this time. There were times he was almost ready to use it, but he remembered Ryutaro's words, and muddled through. And Ryutaro?
A wistful curve graced Osamu's lips. He'd watched his televised speech before they had left the starbase....the Asahina daimyo pleading for peace between the Dragon and the Spider.
Gently carrying the butterfly cupped in his hands, feeling the sleepy little kami deep within, he turned and left his room.
