Alone

Chapter Two: Mysterious Man

The day passed by so quickly that Ayame was in bed before she could think. From then on, every day that passed, the young mistress became more and more distressed and a recluse. Her mother spoke with her many times, through a closed door, telling her that once she set eyes on her fiancé she would be pleased. Those words never seemed to sway her dear daughter in the least. She was stubborn, just like her father, who refused to cancel the meeting with his daughter’s fiancé no matter how unhappy she was.

Finally, the day arrived when the young mistress was to meet her future husband. Everything started with a light knock on the door. Ayame answered and there stood two men. Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes met one of the men’s gazes. There was something about him she just couldn't put her finger on it, but she was overwhelmed by the feeling she had met this man before. She drew in her breath and felt a shiver of fear shoot down her spine. He looked at her as if he had sensed her fear. She tried greeting them as she would any other guests, and then showed them to the dining area.

The man, who she felt she recognized, had eyes which glinted with a look of grief, but only for a flickering moment. His eyes danced inside her mind’s eye as she waited for the household and guests to take their seats in the dining room, then she took her place back in the kitchen. When she entered, everyone was busy getting an elaborate meal prepared for this important meeting. Her legs began to shake and finally gave out from under her. She couldn't figure out why she felt so frightened of him.

She was startled from her thoughts by Makino, “Ayame, stop lazing around when there is so much to be done.” Ayame stood up and nodded to Makino apologetically. She began her chores around the kitchen, clearing counters and washing dirty pots and pans. If she could just continue to move about and keep herself busy, then her past would have no chance to creep up on her. She became so consumed with trying not to remember that she continued to bump into others. With Ayame’s clumsiness, Makino made the decision to have her help serve the meal, to get her out of the way of the other servants in the kitchen. Ayame tried to protest, but Makino wouldn't hear of it.

She walked into the dining room, hearing the young fiancé’s voice, “Your name is Hanako? That's a beautiful name. Doesn't it mean flower child?” he said in a charming voice that would make any woman swoon over him.

“Yes, it does, thank you for noticing.” By the look of Hanako's face, she had changed her mind about this arrangement. There was still something that bothered Ayame, but what? She just couldn't figure it out while serving the appetizers and tea. His eyes shone emerald, the color seemed to have changed, but that would be impossible. There was something else about them, as though they held a hidden secret. Every chance she could risk, she peered into the depths of them. Still, the secret remained hidden and wouldn’t reveal itself.

She stood motionless for a moment consumed with her thoughts, zoning out as the other servants passed gracefully in and out of the kitchen. As she watched, she became fascinated with the different kinds of dishes being presented to the family. Many she had never seen before. It was easy to see that just by the delectable foods the family possessed a large sum of money. No matter how long she stayed in this home she knew she would always be astonished by the people who lived in such a rich lifestyle.

Ayame woke from her thoughts as one of the other servants passed by, nudging her to the side. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. He seemed like a samurai, a hero, but a voice inside told her to push those thoughts away. She headed back to the kitchen, picking up the last silver tray. The smell of first-class food filled her senses. Leaving the kitchen, she crossed the hallway, but just as she slid the dining room door over, the tray hit the man who had accompanied Hanako's fiancé. It smashed to the floor.

She watched in horror, but could not force her muscles to move. She opened her lips, just above a whisper to say, “I'm so sorry, I... I wasn't looking where I was going.” Regaining muscle power, she bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass. The next thing she knew, he had knelt down in front of her, picking up the pieces as well. “Oh, you shouldn’t be doing this. It'll only take a few minutes.” She glanced up for a moment of wishful thinking, her eyes meeting his violet gaze. Blushing, she looked back to the floor, not noticing the change in his eye color, because her heart was too flustered to allow her mind to think clearly.

“It's alright. It's mostly my fault you dropped the tray in the first place.” He looked at her and smiled. “Just let me help.” She could feel his eyes on her but remained looking at the floor. There was something frightening about him, yet calming and safe. This feeling he gave off contradicted itself. With him this close, she couldn’t seem to focus. What was this feeling?

“Ayame, we let you stay here for free. All we ask of you is to do a few simple tasks, and that is how you repay us by breaking my good china?!” the mistress screeched. This was not the first time Ayame had broken her fine china and surely it wouldn't be the last.

“I am deeply sorry, my mistress…” she began.

“Now, my dear lady, it's not her fault.” The man, who had knelt to help her, cut off Ayame's apology. The mistress eased back onto her cushion, re-composing herself. They finished picking up the pieces. Then she hurried back to the kitchen. She could hear the mistress' angry voice echoing through the hallway, but some of the edge had left her voice. It was more of a scolding tone. This was unlike the mistress to speak to a guest. Ayame brushed the thought aside.

“You realize if you treat her like that, she'll begin to think she can slack off!” huffed the mistress.

“I don't think she would do that. She seems to be a hard worker.” The man responded as though he were defending her.

“That's just what she wants you to think...” the mistress stated, trying to sway his opinion of Ayame.

“Mother, stop it! You're just embarrassing yourself!” Hanako interrupted. Her voice was stern. The mistress calmed herself and began to speak with the guests as though the scene had never occurred.

Ayame stood silent in the kitchen with the broken dishes on the silver tray and a dirty apron. After a moment, she began to remake the food she had dropped, all the while hearing the other worker's harsh words stab into her back. She wanted to cry but knew she had to be strong and keep moving no matter what. Tears would solve nothing, yet they could release her pent-up emotions like a waterfall.

She threw out the broken dishes. Then she finished remaking the dishes and placed them on the same silver tray. As she was about to step out of the kitchen she could hear the others whispering behind her back, “Don't drop it this time.” Then they all chuckled. She slid the door closed and crossed the hallway to the dining room. Taking a deep breath before entering, she set out the bowls in front of everyone. She bowed gracefully and left. Her heart began to beat like a drum, her hands shaking as leaves in the forest. She wanted to go to her room, but there was work still to be done.

Soon the dishes were empty, stomachs were filled, and the guests said their farewells and were gone. As the door closed noiselessly, Hanako leaned her forehead up against it. Sighing she exclaimed, “Isn't Naoko simply perfect!” her whole attitude seemed to have done a complete one-eighty with the meeting of that one man. It was wonderful to see her with a shine in her eyes and a dazzling smile as she turned to face her family. Both her mother and father stood there grinning like they had known this would be the outcome.

“Hanako, dear, did you think I would have chosen someone who would make you unhappy?” The mistress spoke as she placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

“I suppose not,” she replied, with a spark in her voice that rarely ever came out. As Ayame stood there she felt tears welling up inside her, but she held them in with all her might. In Hanako, she saw all that she had lost.

The day’s events soon came to an end and all went about their usual business. Ayame, though, seemed in a daze ever since the young men who had accompanied Naoko had left. He had caught her attention, his shoulder-length auburn red hair. His eyes were beautiful emerald eyes that captured her attention. But the question still remained as to why he seemed mournful. She caught her thoughts quickly, trying to remember the exact color of his eyes. She recalled two colors, emerald and violet. Before she could ponder this further, her thoughts were interrupted. “What's on your mind, Ayame?” Makino questioned, sounding irritated.

“Oh, Ummm n.... nothing, why?” she could feel her palms starting to sweat. This was something she wanted to keep to herself since she was now a servant and could not have this kind of attraction to someone outside of her social class. She glanced up to look at Makino’s face and could tell she was not pleased with her answer.

“You can tell me what's going on in that head of yours.” She seemed sincere in her attempt to get Ayame to speak up. Makino could tell with one glance at Ayame's face and the tone of her voice, that it wasn't simply nothing.

“Really, it's nothing.” Ayame felt her anger rise, but the reasoning behind her rage she didn't understand. She watched as Makino walked out of the kitchen with a look of defeat across her face. As she watched, the realization of losing a friend crushed her heart. “How could I say that? Why couldn't I just tell her? What’s wrong with me?” these questions went round and around in her mind until she finally had to push them to the far corners of her thoughts. She knew if she lost herself inside her thoughts she wouldn’t be able to get free for some time. She sunk to the floor with a bucket of water, soap and a rag. Leaning over the floor, she began to scrub it clean. Her thoughts vanished, leaving her mind blank.

As she finished, it seemed she was, as usual, the last to finish and head to bed. Walking down the hallway toward her room, passing by the mistress' room, she heard a faint cry coming from the sweet newborn baby girl. She waited a moment, listening to see if the mistress was stirring to calm her child. When she heard nothing, she slid the door open, she slowly walked into Chika's bedroom. She bent down and lifted her up, cradling her in her arms until she ceased crying. Gently, she placed her back into her crib and silently left the room. After that, she seemed to float in a daze to her own bed, with sleepy eyes going off to a world where there was no pain, no fear, nothing that could harm a person, a world where everything was just as it should be, her dreams.