It was a cloudy morning, and it looked as if snow might fall again at any moment.
Tomo and Soran stepped out of the hollow tree where they had slept. They had bundled themselves up tightly so they would not feel the cold. On their feet they wore kanjiki—special snowshoes Tomo had made the day before. She had bent strong branches into round frames and tied them carefully together.
It was Soran’s first time wearing snowshoes. Walking on top of the snow felt exciting and fun. He tied them firmly over his straw boots with thin vines and dried grass.
He wrapped a straw mat around his body for warmth and wore a straw hat on his head. When he picked up the mat they used for sleeping and the small bag of food, he felt a little heavy.
Tomo carried even more. She placed her things neatly in a wooden pack frame that old Seitaka from Fujimi Village had given her and lifted it onto her back.
Little Jimmy, the puppy, could not walk in the deep snow. He sat quietly inside the bamboo basket hanging from Soran’s shoulder.
“Ready,” Tomo said.
They decided to cross Mount Monomi. It was the shortest way. There was no real path—only the trail their own footsteps would make.
When they reached the top of the mountain, they stopped to rest.
Everything was covered in white snow, shining softly under the cloudy sky. But from the top, they could see far into the distance.
To the east lay the gray sea. Beyond it were large islands and small islands. They could even see a tiny seaside village. Far out on the water stood two tall mountains side by side like twins.
In the direction of Fujimi Village, treetops spread out like a green sea, but the village itself was hidden. Even Mount Fuji was covered in clouds.
To the west was Saku Village, where Tomo had been born. But it was hidden behind many mountains. They would need to walk many more days to reach it.
“Soran, look,” Tomo said softly.
She pointed to the snowy slope. Two brown animals were moving there. It was a pair of wild rabbits. One chased the other, hopping playfully.
“They must be sweethearts,” Tomo said with a smile.
“What’s a sweetheart?” Soran asked.
“Well… two good friends who are going to get married soon.”
“Oh! So they’ll get married? And then have babies?”
“That’s right. Rabbits have many babies. Maybe even a hundred!”
“A hundred?!” Soran gasped. “You and Father only had me. Father is gone now… But you and Father were sweethearts too, right?”
Tomo’s cheek dimpled as she smiled.
“Yes, we were. Though we married so quickly that perhaps we became sweethearts after we married. When you were born, we were so very happy. Your father was gentle—just like you. When he was little, he couldn’t even harm a tiny insect.”
“Really? But Father was a brave warrior. He was strong at sumo. Do you think I can become a warrior too?”
“Of course. You will be a warrior who is both strong and kind. And you will protect me.”
“I will.”
Soran’s chest swelled proudly.
A strong and kind warrior. Yes. I will be one.
They began walking down Mount Monomi toward the small village by the sea.
The snowshoes helped them walk over the soft snow without sinking. Still, going down the forested slope was not easy. Thin branches snapped against their faces, and sharp stones and roots hid under the snow. They had to step carefully.
But something cheerful followed them down the mountain—birds.
On a small snow-covered tree grew many red berries. Four little green birds fluttered there, chirping busily as they ate.
“Those are mejiro,” Tomo explained. “White-eyes.”
“They look very busy,” Soran said, watching them closely.
One by one, the birds flew away.
“Are they going home?” Soran asked.
“Yes. Their mothers must be waiting.”
“Where do they live?”
“In small bowl-shaped nests high in the trees. When I was little, there were many nests around our village. Your grandfather used to catch white-eyes and keep them in cages. If one sang beautifully, people would borrow it to help catch other birds.”
“Did people eat them?”
“Oh no. They held singing contests instead. There was even a champion each year. Once, a bird I caught became champion.”
Tomo smiled at the memory.
Soran tasted one of the red berries. It was a little sweet—but not very good.
Tomo began to sing an old song she remembered:
Are the red berries sweet, little cuckoo?
Please share some with me.
I will give you sweet rice cakes in return.
Flying stork across the mountain sky,
Please lend me your wings.
I will give you both my hands in return.
Little white-eyes, four in your nest,
Please share one with me.
I will give you my daughter in return.
Soran blinked in surprise.
“Give away a daughter?!”
Tomo laughed softly. “It is a strange song. Perhaps it was meant to scold naughty children. No one knows who first sang it. It is very old.”
Soran quickly memorized the song. He liked it at once.
After four hours of walking, their feet felt icy cold. Snow began falling again. They ate dried sweet potatoes and persimmons, but they were still hungry.
The village they had seen from the mountain was now close.
Five houses with grass roofs stood together. Smoke rose warmly from each one. Near the edge of the village stood two tall oak trees, still green even in winter. They seemed like a gate to the village. Two squirrels sat in the branches, looking confused by the heavy snow.
Tomo’s heart stirred. In her own village, two oak trees had stood just like these.
Suddenly, they sensed someone nearby.
A small boy sat quietly on a tree stump. He had been so still they had not noticed him at first. Soran almost thought he was one of the tiny forest spirits called Koboshi—but he was an ordinary boy.
“Hello,” Tomo said kindly. “Do you live in this village?”
The boy said nothing. He simply stared.
Perhaps he cannot hear, Soran thought. He once had a friend who could not hear, and this boy felt the same.
“What is this village called?” Tomo asked gently.
The boy swallowed and answered slowly.
“Saita Village.”
“What?!”
Tomo’s eyes widened. The name stirred an old memory.
Long ago, in her mountain village, people had laughed together.
“If we build a new village, what shall we call it?”
“Well, since it comes from Saku Village, let’s call it Saita Village!”
“Haha! From ‘Saku’ to ‘Saita’—how clever!”
※saku（bloom） ※saita（bloomed）
Tomo’s eyes shone.
“Could it be…?”
Just then another boy ran out of the forest.
“I caught a rabbit!”
He held a wild rabbit in his hands.
Soran’s heart jumped.
Please don’t let it be one of the sweethearts…
The quiet boy stammered, “B-but ｔ‐today is the Sabbath…”
“I know,” the lively boy replied. “It ran into my arrow all by itself!”
Tomo suddenly dropped to her knees.
She knew.
The person she had been searching for—was here.
She told the boys they were looking for a place to stay. The boys ran quickly to one of the houses.
Tomo and Soran waited, holding hands.
A tall man stepped slowly out of the house, head lowered. His beard was thick. When he saw Tomo and Soran, he froze. His eyes were light brown. His nose was high and proud.
Tomo called out in a trembling voice.
“David!”
The man forgot his slow steps. He ran forward and wrapped Tomo tightly in his arms—holding her as if afraid she might disappear.
“Tomo! Tomo! Tomo!”
Again and again he called her name.
✨ Feel free to leave a comment!