A high-pitched scream from upstairs made him drop the tray and race towards the guest room, followed in short order by his mother and father.  Once in the room, they found a hysterical Asayake recoiling from the television and sobbing, “No, no, it can’t be true….”

                    As his mother moved to console the girl, Hagane turned his attention to the tube to see what was the matter.  Once he did, his own world descended into the deepest pits of hell.  Onscreen a dour newscaster pronounced doom on the lives of two young people.  “…again, our top story is that JAS Flight 1021 has crashed in the Tsugaru strait enroute to Sapporo.  JASDF and USAF navigation radar from Misawa indicate that the plane, a DC-10, crashed into the sea around ninety minutes ago.  At this time it is believed that there are no survivors, though a spokesman from the National Maritime Safety Agency stated that search teams will be operating around the clock….”

Tears, what few warm ones there were that managed to splash against the picture of him and Shiori, held fast, reminding him of the hollow, empty future that lay ahead.  This was supposed to be a time of joy, of laughter and love, a period to spend with one’s family and friends.  Instead, he’d spent the day at a funeral, seeing the urns that held his beloved Shiori and her parents placed in the family spots in the temple columbine near their home.  His own family was sick with grief, with none of the holiday cheer that was normally there.  But that wasn’t the worst part.

Hagane forced himself to wipe the tears from his eyes, put the picture away and focus his attention on the other person that was up here with him.  She too stared into the uncaring sky that overlooked Tokyo, the cartoonishly festive glitter on the streets below seemingly sucked dry by the eternal expanse of the gray horizon.  There was a fragile beauty in her face, features that resembled, though not perfectly, Shiori’s.  In her, there was so much promise, so much that echoed the lives of the Mashiro family in the wounded vessel that was Mashiro Asayake.

As much as his heart screamed, the pain she felt was a thousand times worse.  While he had lost his girlfriend, she’d lost her entire family and was now alone in the world.  “Asayake,” he whispered silently, feeling true empathy for the girl.

She turned and looked at him with baleful eyes, windows to the soul that seemed to scream how much she wanted to die and reunite with her family.  He shuddered, knowing those thoughts were his only a few minutes ago.  Unconsciously she took a step back towards the railing, her body already in motion.

“No!” he cried, leaping towards her, fearing the worst.  Taking her in his arms, held her fast, refusing to let the last link he had to Shiori slip from his hands.  “You’re not alone, Asayake.  You’re not alone.  We’ll make it through this together, I promise.”

“I don’t have anyone!” she sobbed, burying her face in his jacket.  “I’m so alone.”

“You’re not alone.  You have me and my family.”  As he said this, he knew it was a lie.  Not the part about his vows; of course his family would take her in, and he would be there for her in every way he could.  But she was right: she was alone in the world now, the last of her clan.

In many ways, he was the same way.  The one true love of his life was gone, and something elementally within him knew that he could never love again.  It wasn’t simple exaggeration, but the honest and complete truth.  This I vow, my truest love.  Wait for me in heaven and I will meet you there in time.  I must stay here for the sake of your sister, but I will never have another.

I will never love again….

The Present, on a cold December eve a week shy of Christmas:

“And so Hideoshi tried as usual to charm me – you’d think by now that he’d realize that hitting on his teacher is a no-no, even if he’s only a few years younger than me.  You know, sometimes I think teaching high school students after just barely getting my degree was a really dumb idea and—“  She stopped in mid-speech, then pointed an accusing fork at him. “Hey, are you listening to a single thing I’m saying?”

Hagane looked up from his dinner plate, feigning grand interest in the fettuccine.  “Oh, yeah, student being a prick.  Yeah, Asa-chan, I caught that.”  He looked up at her and smiled wearily, the rumpled look in his eyes appearing to be that of exhaustion.  “I’m sorry, I’ve just been working on this new project, and trying to figure out some of the PERL and CGI coding is really knocking me for a loop, especially the parts where I have to program in English.”  He grinned at her.  “You know, you shouldn’t complain.  Your job is far more exciting than mine, and makes an impact on the world – all I am is just a webmaster for Beats! Records.”

Asayake rolled her eyes, displaying mild annoyance.  “I’ve told you a million times, you’re wasting your art design degree!  You should have opened your own design studio and went freelance, not work for some heartless corporation!  You could write your own ticket that way, do whatever you want!  You oughta quit and start your own business!”  In mock anger, she shoveled a forkful of risotto in her mouth, giving him a dark glare.  This was an old conversation that the two had, certainly not the first time.

“Yeah, I know,” he moaned gently, having heard this argument from her – and several others – before.  “It’s just…well….”  Another fork went straight into the mouth, forestalling any further debate on the subject.

She smiled at him kindly.  “Yeah, I know.  I don’t understand, but I know.”

As dinner continued, silence reigned between the two, both taking time to either look at the glittering jewels of the Shinjuku skyline, or at each other.  Time had been kind to both, and it clearly showed.  Over the course of the past ten years, Hagane had filled out and matured, going from an earnest and handsome teen to a striking young man who seemed to exude a natural ease, so much though that people thought him to have, as the old saying went, the ease of the Buddha.  In truth, though, he was far more different than those who knew him to be, and those who knew him well tore their hair out over this fact.

However, it was Asayake that had truly changed.  When she’d come fully into their lives, she’d been nothing but a coltish, gangly girl, her body just adjusting to the changes that came with puberty.  Over the course of the passing decade, she became a beautiful young woman, a smart, vivacious and cheerful person who’d become the pride of both her deceased and foster families.  She had grown to love the Hokosaki family as she did her own, and in many respects she was now the daughter they’d never had.  She also kept close tabs on Hagane, as though she was doing it in Shiori’s memory.

“You know,” she pointed out, “I was talking to Kenshin on the phone, and according to him he’s thrilled that the whole family’s going to be home for Christmas.  I don’t think we visit enough, you know.”  Unusual for Japanese families, both Hagane and Asayake moved out into their own apartments when the graduated from university.  He had an apartment in the trendy Motomachi district of Yokohama, while she moved slightly father south to Yokosuka, near the school she taught at.  Still, the pair had regular dinners together, and were frequently found in the others’ company.

“Of course he’s glad.  He’s a teenager and the only one left at home.  When I’m over, he has someone to joke around with, and when you’re over he has someone to help tutor him in his cram courses!  Then, there’s the epic marathon of games on the Playsta, and….”  Hagane picked up his glass of wine, took a sip of the red liquid and said, “Man, I’m stuffed.  I think I’ll need to walk off dinner.  If you’ve got the time, care to join me in a jaunt over in the Shinjuku Gardens?  I heard they did some new landscaping for the winter months.”

Without even glancing at her watch, she chirped, “Sure!  I’ve got a couple of hours before I have to catch the last train back.  Lead the way.”  As both rose from the table, she looked again into the Shinjuku skyline and the section of Tokyo, lightly covered with the falling snow.

A short time later, the pair walked amongst the tastefully decorated grounds of the Shinjuku Imperial Botanical Gardens, the festive displays of the park now being sheathed in a light spatter of snow.  All around, children were building snowmen and playing at snow fights while their parents watched with joy; a few other sorts were either walking or taking pictures, all enmeshed in the dance of life that was usually to be found here.

As they walked down one of the pebble-laden footpaths, the two of them felt very at ease with one another.  Perhaps it was because they’d spent the last decade or so in a foster-sibling relationship, or maybe it was because they’d known each other for so long.  In any case, they got along so well that quite a few people who knew them remarked every so often that they would make a good couple; something that he would laugh gently about and correct them; he was long since off the dating market.

She rested her head against his arm, closing her eyes and just being glad to be there.  She’d often remarked that they didn’t spend enough time together, even though the demands of her job required her to be busy with her academic discipline on a regular basis.  “You know, I was thinking,” she began, her words crisp and precise, as though she were reciting something that she’d intended to say for quite some time.

“Hrm?  Didja say something?” he asked, drawn out of whatever reverie that his mind currently was in.  Instead, he found her looking at him in an unusual way, one that he’d never seen on her face before.  Concerned, he asked, “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine.  I’m better than I’ve been in a while.”  Turning away from him slightly, she looked up and asked, “This is mistletoe, isn’t it?  How beautiful.  What an amazing thing for them to plant mistletoe here.”

He looked at the plant, with something on his mind.  He’d heard something about it once, but he couldn’t remember off the top of his head what it was exactly.  “I could swear I heard something about this plant before, but I don’t remember what it was,” he announced, his mind already thinking about it.

“Well, I heard that there’s an old Western legend which says—“ she began, but was immediately cut off by his next words.

Snapping his fingers in triumph, he smiled.  “Aaa!  Thanks for reminding me.  The druids of England believed it to be a powerful medicine, and a symbol of peacemaking, like the rose is an ancient symbol of secrecy.  Kind of odd, considering the plant’s a parasite, like fungus.”

“No, silly!” she exclaimed, appearing to be agitated by his words.  “I didn’t mean that legend!  I meant the other one – you know, where two people who—“

“Hey!  Asayake!  Hagane!  What a surprise meeting you two here!” someone called out just from the distance, as a pair of figures waved from over by the man-made lake.

Hagane waved to his friends, beckoning for them to come over.  “Hey, Hikomei!  Aoi!  Fancy meeting you two here!  I’d thought you two would be at your family’s place or hers or something.”  Hagane and Asayake stood waiting while the duo walked up to catch up.  Hagane and Hikomei were close friends since childhood, and Hagane had to admit that his friend’s wife was a far nicer person than the last person he’d been dating.  Hagane had meant to ask Hikomei about what had ever happened to her – Kogimi, or something like that – but once he’d found out from Aoi that Kogimi had screwed Hikomei over big time before she left, the inquiry remained unasked.

It was Aoi, who always seemed to have an odd air of ghostly beauty about her, who answered.  “We plan to, but we have to do some research for our next novel – we’re writing one about modern day Tokyo, so we’re scouting out some locations – not to mention the fact that we wanted some time to ourselves.  In the meanwhile, his parents volunteered to watch our daughter for the interim, as long as we’re there for Christmas with the family.”

Hikomei smiled.  “By the way, I never got the chance to thank you for the job you did on designing our official website for us.  If it had been either of us, we would have been there forever!”

Hagane scratched the back of his head in an “Aw schucks” mannerism.  “I think you two would have figured it out eventually.  I just thought that you didn’t have to cough up a few hundred thousand yen just for a Flash- and Shockwave page that I could have done for dinner and a couple of beers.  ‘Sides, we’ve been friends since we were kids, so I couldn’t charge you for the site.”

Hikomei and Aoi smiled as one.  “I appreciate it,” he remarked.  “I’m telling you, you really oughta start up your own web design firm one of these days.  What you do is certainly better than anything I’ve seen before.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him for the longest time,” Asayake piped up, suddenly feeling left out.

Aoi immediately noticed the other woman, sensing that they’d interrupted something.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed that you had a date.  Our apologies.”

“Oh, it’s not a date, it’s just me an’ Asa-chan going out for our weekly dinner together.”  Somehow, he suddenly realized that might have been taken the wrong way.

However it sounded, Asayake took it in stride.  Sort of.  “Nice seeing you two on such a beautifully snowy and romantically moonlit night.”  The subtlety couldn’t have been done better if it was delivered with a sledgehammer.

Hikomei looked around at the spectacular scenery of the park.  “Actually, I think we were looking more into the etherealness of the place than—“  He was nudged in the ribs softly by Aoi and immediately shut up.

Fortunately, Hikomei’s wife wasn’t as dense.  “Yes, now that you mention it, it is a romantic night.  Well, my husband and I were just about to be going,” she added with another gentle nudge to his ribs.  “When you get a chance, we’d love to have you two over for dinner sometime.  We’ll see you later, and it was nice seeing you two again.”  As fast as they could, the pair beat a hasty retreat back to the koi pond.

Finding it odd that his friends had to leave so abruptly, Hagane wondered aloud, “Hrm.  I hope we didn’t mess up a romantic night for them.”

Asayake just sighed, her breath crystallizing in the night air.  “No, I don’t think it was their night that was ruined.”  Glancing at her watch, she added with a twinge of sorrow in her voice, “Look at the time – I’ve got to get going.”

“But I thought that you didn’t have to go for another couple of hours.”  It was odd timing, seeing as she wasn’t usually prone to rashness like this.

She yawned involuntarily, and that gave her the perfect excuse.  “I’m feeling a bit tired, to be honest, so I think I’ll call it an early night.”

“Well, I was going to suggest that we go get some coffee – this cold is killing me – but if you need to get going, you should get going.  Let’s head off to the train station.”

Thanks,” she responded, taking his arm again, though seeming to walk a slight distance away from him this time.  “Tell you what: I know this lovely coffee machine just by the train tracks.  Perhaps that should do it for us?”

He laughed, a bright note against the bright stars.  “You always did have a way with words.”

“Of course.  I’m a teacher, remember?”  It’s just a shame I don’t have a sense of timing, she mentally added.

Aboard the train on the way back to her home, there was nothing but the simple sounds of her discman playing her favorite sort of music, drowning out the steady thrum of the train racing down the tracks.  Some might say that the sort of music she listened to, not the typical JPop that most of her friends listened to, but ethnic music from other nations, was probably worse than the thrum of the tracks and the cacophony of the crowds.  But the music was a reminder of her past, an enthusiasm that she’d inherited from her sister, as Shiori had also been a fan of what was termed “world music.”

And that’s just the problem, Asayake thought, her thumb tabbing the control pad over to the next song.  As much as I love and miss my sister, she’s exactly the problem.  Asayake tried not to look forlorn, but what could she do?  It was a hard thing to admit – that she was in love with a man that was not only her sister’s last boyfriend, but also for the last ten years had been her foster brother.  She wasn’t sure when she fell in love with him, only that to her, he’d come to symbolize the ideal boyfriend, the sort of guy who was loyal, loving and faithful…even when the object of that affection had long since passed from the earth.

Part of her felt dirty for it.  Did she have a right to chase after Hagane?  Did he even feel the same about her, or did he look at her like a kid sister, the ever-present reminder of his love for Shiori?  If tonight’s comments to Hikomei and Aoi were anything, combined with his disinterest in the kissing legend of the mistletoe, clearly that’s how he saw her.  He might never see her as she wanted him to: a woman in her own right, one that would gladly spend the rest of her life with him if only she could get him past her “rival”.

That, she knew, was the truly unfair part.  Bad enough her “opponent” was her older sister, a girl that he loved, even ten years past her untimely demise.  But it was worse that even if it hadn’t been her sister that she was up against, she was up against a powerful memory and a man who kept faith with those cherished recollections; that gave her nothing to fight against, no leverage whatsoever.

Neechan, I wish I could get your advice, though I’m not sure if you would give it to me, she mused, playing the last song over again, a Mexican mariachi song that was one of her sister’s favorites.  Would you hate me for how I feel about him?  Could you ever forgive me for how I want him so much, how I so very much want to be the one he loves?  But Asayake knew there’d be no answer from Shiori, no sign of yea or nay.  So the silence continued, and so did the music pouring through the headphones into Asayake’s ears, one of the few things that she had left of her sister…

…other than the man she loved, a man she wasn’t sure if she could ever have, for the simple reason of her sister’s legacy. 

Usually, Hagane’s usual path was to take the JR and get off at the Motomachi station, just across the street from the Sega Yokohama Joypolis and about five blocks from his home.  Instead, he chose to get off at the Ishikawacho/Chinatown station, a good mile away from where he lived.  He only did that when he needed to do some thinking, and a brisk walk down the seaside park always did him a world of good.  Tonight he would need that walk, because he had a lot on his mind to think about.

He’d managed to somehow piss Asayake off, and that wasn’t a good thing.  She was dear to him, very important to his life.  But as of late, things were changing, situations he couldn’t comprehend or put words to and that truly unnerved him.

He was seeing her in a new light, and he wasn’t sure if that light was a good thing.  She’d changed over the years into a beautiful young woman with traces of Shiori that he could see in her, but also her own self.  It was a good thing that he’d remembered the stuff about mistletoe from his college days, or else he might have done something inappropriate – and that would have likely damaged their friendship beyond repair.

“I can’t believe I’m becoming attracted to her,” he muttered aloud, stopping by the seaside railing and watching the dark waters of Tokyo bay, while in the distance the Bay Bridge lit up like a string of ivory spires and glittering pearls, a visual fantasia that brought joy to most during this holiday season.  To him, though, it perfectly explained exactly what was going on in his mind, a thrust of white bliss against the darkness of his current struggle.

It made no sense.  He was beginning to fall for her, and that was a no-no on several levels.  For one, how could he betray all that he felt for Shiori?  Though she was dead these past ten years, he made a vow, a promise that he would see no other; it was a promise that he’d kept, much to the dismay of many a female friend of his.  But that vow was important to him, and for him to abandon it would be, in his mind, criminal.

Secondly, the person to abandon it for was Shiori’s little sister?  What kind of person would do such a thing?  There was something clearly wrong there, and it had everything to do with the fact that the girl he fondly called Asa-chan was the younger sister of the girl he’d loved for so long – and to make matters worse, Asayake had spent the last ten years practically as his own sister!  She was very much the daughter that his parents never had, and even his little brother Kenshin always referred to her as “Asa-nesan”, older sister.

Lastly, how did she feel about him?  With his luck, she probably thought of him as an older brother, and for him to betray that trust that they’d had since the beginning….  He didn’t even want to think of the fallout from that; it hurt too much.

And yet…and yet, whenever I look at her, he thought, his mind floating back to the original section of though, all I see is a beautiful woman that I dream about, a person that I love being around.  Hikomei told him once that marriage to the perfect person was the best thing that could ever happen, and Hagane found himself idly wondering more and more if the girl he’d grown up with might fit that bill.

Continuing down the pathway towards the end of the park and the building on the corner that housed the Yokohama Doll Museum, there was a blur of white that seemed to be just slightly out of place with the rest of the snowy landscape.  Sitting on a dark rock sculpture was, of all things, a butterfly.  It wasn’t a very big one, probably about the size of a 500-yen piece.  But it was awestrikingly beautiful, if at the very least because of its coloring: mostly snowy white, with its wings rimmed with a brilliant red and two matching spots of the same hue on its upper wings, as though it were imitating the national flag.

As he watched it flutter its wings once, he wondered why it was here: chrysalises slept through the winter, never hatching until spring; that was clearly months off.  Additionally, how it was still alive in this slightly uncomfortable (even by human standards) weather was incomprehensible.  But regardless of how the butterfly hatched, it was likely to die soon anyway; even if there were some sort of nourishment around for it (which there wasn’t), butterflies had life spans only long enough to procreate and that was it.

Still, there was something bothering him about the whole thing, and it was simply that another beautiful thing was destined to die around the holiday season.  That was something he couldn’t abide; if there was one tenet of life that he tried to enforce as much as possible, it was that nothing was going to die on the holiday season due to his indifference or negligence.  In fact, his pet cat, Noel, was the direct result of such intervention when he found her as a kitten, rummaging around in a trash bin not far from his home.  Maybe the butterfly would die soon enough, but he wasn’t going to allow it to die while he was around.  Maybe it was stupid of him to be worrying about something so small, but…Shiori would have done something, and that was reason enough for him.

Looking into a trashbin over by the rock, he found, oddly enough, a discarded thermos, a bit beat up, but hopefully large enough to accommodate a resident.  As he popped off the top, intending to peer inside and see the condition of it, without any sort of fanfare, the butterfly lifted off the dark rock, took to the air, then flitted without ceremony straight into the thermos, where it remained as he loosely closed the lid again and tucked the cylinder into the inner pocket of his coat.  Even if he had the container, he hadn’t given a single thought of how he was going to get the insect in there.

Well, that problem’s solved at least, he thought to himself as he continued home, his rescuee snug in its temporary traveling bin. 

As Asayake walked into her apartment, she took one look at the table, and the tears came fresh.  There, in a vase, was a set of flowers that he had bought for her two days ago, just to cheer her up after she had a bad day.  She loved the flowers very dearly, but they reminded her of why they were there, which in turn started the mobius of anguish over again.

She quickly checked her answering machine for anything new; there was nothing save for a message from Hagane’s mother asking if Asayake would be willing to go out and help her complete the Christmas shopping this weekend.  Asayake made a mental note to call her back, then an idea hit her.  She picked up the phone, dialed a number, spoke a terse but heartfelt message, then hung up and walked away from the counter.

Looking out the window, she whispered a solemn wish to the stars above, something from the depths of her heart: I don’t care if it’s not the right thing, but I can’t deny how I feel.  If the kami can hear my plea, all I wish for is to have Hagane as my love, maybe my husband if I’m worthy.  That’s all I ask for.  Clapping her hands together, she promised the ancestors and her parents she would do what she could to try for such an event, and taking one final look, she invoked her sister’s memory.  Neechan, I don’t know if what I’m doing will make you uneasy in the afterlife, but I love him.  All I can do is promise that if I become his wife, I will be the wife for him that both of us want to be.  Please give me your blessings, somehow.

Feeling an exhaustion wash over her, Asayake made for her bedroom, not seeing the solitary shooting star race across the nighttime sky.

Walking into his apartment, Hagane was greeted by the other major girl in his life – his pet cat, Noel, who mewled gently as she rubbed against his leg, begging for attention.  A runt, she never grew past her kitten size, even though the veterinarian estimated that she was about two years old; sometimes that came in handy, he thought.  Looking down at her, he answered, “In a few seconds, girl.”  Walking over to the kitchen table, he noticed the roses that a female friend had gotten him recently – actually, too many of them; so he gave half to Asayake since she loved flowers so much.  Fishing the thermos out of his jacket and hoping that the butterfly was still alive, he popped it open, relieved as the delicate creature did its nimble dance in mid-air for a few seconds, darting around the vase of ruby-red roses before alighting on the petal of one, as dainty as a fairy.

Inwardly, he smiled; he wasn’t sure how much good he did, but at least something wouldn’t die due to his negligence.  At his leg, Noel continued to purr, as though she were giving assent for his act of kindness.  “C’mon,” he said to the tabby, as he took his jacket off and put it on the coat rack near the front of the apartment, “Lemme check the answering machine and see if there’s anything up, and then I gotta get to bed.  Early day tomorrow.”  Heading over to the answering machine, he began the regular ritual of listening to messages that he mostly ignored, anyway:

*BEEP*  <<Hi, Hagane, it’s me, Suzume.  I was wondering, um, well, if you’re free sometime this week, well, I, that is, if you have some free time this weekend, I was wondering if you’d, ah, like to come over for drinks and maybe a video.  We could talk, and, well, I….  Um, look, we’ll talk about it tomorrow at work, okay?  Mata ne.>>  *CLICK*

*BEEP*  <<I’m looking for a Hokosaki Hagane-san.  I hope I’ve got the correct number.  This is Professor Kawashi Takaki of the Ariyashi Music Institute.  A colleague of mine over at Beats! suggested that I contact you regarding our website; it could use some updating and he recommended your services for possible freelance work.  If you’re interested, please give me a call at 30-44-2331.  Thank you and have a pleasant evening.>>  *CLICK*

*BEEP*  <<Hey, it’s Hikomei.  Aoi and I wanted to apologize for ruining your night with Asayake.  Keep at it, you’ll succeed in the end. Oh, if you’re free for lunch tomorrow, give me a call and we can go somewhere, daijo?  Okay, ja mata.>>  *CLICK*

*BEEP*  << Hagane, it’s Emiko.  The offer for dinner’s still open, you know.  Give me a call when you get home and we can set something up.>>  *CLICK*

*BEEP*  <<Look, I’m sorry about tonight.  I was just…tired and I apologize if I sounded snappy.  Don’t call me back, I’ll likely be in bed by the time you check this.  Just call me tomorrow and maybe I can make it up to you over dinner and a movie, ‘kay?  Talk to you tomorrow.  Oyasumi and all that.>>  *CLICK*

*END OF MESSAGES*

The last message made him feel a lot better.  The least thing he wanted to do, no matter how he felt about her, was to get her angry at him.  No matter what, he’d always love her and be around for her; she would always be family to him, despite the condition of relation.  Feeling a bit more cheerful, he pressed the purge button on the machine and headed off to bed, Noel following in tow.

It was right about then that someone knocked on the door.  He paused at first, wondering if it was actually his door; the next-door neighbor tended to have guests over at all hours of the day.  But a second later, the knocks sounded again, clear this time that it was his entry that was being knocked on.  Trying to figure out who would be visiting him at this time of the evening, he went to the door, saying, “Look, I was about to crash, so you—“

He never got to finish his comment as something slid off his door crashing into his room.  Hagane looked down, and found that it was a girl, looking fairly tattered and very much worse for wear.  Her skin shading blue with the coloring of second-degree frostbite, she gazed back at him with dilated blue eyes and said in a weak voice, “Tasukete,” in what would have been overdramatic if it wasn’t for the fact that she bore some sort of bloody slices on her back, the blood staining her white fuku tunic.  Not able to further say anything, she passed out in the doorway, snow blowing into the home.

Hagane didn’t even have to think.  After all, he saved a butterfly, and frankly, those were pretty insignificant creatures; he saved a cat, and that was higher up on the importance chain.  This, however, was the life of a young girl, seriously wounded and freezing to death.  Instantly, he pulled her in the house, with a little bit of help from Noel, who grabbed part of the girl’s legwarmers in her teeth and began to pull as well.  Managing to get her on the carpet on the floor, he dashed to the closet, pulling out the spare futon and some blankets.  Setting her on it and making sure she was covered up, he dashed into the kitchen to heat up some soup, then went into the bathroom to make sure that he had his first aid kit handy.  Something told hjim that sleep was going to be the least of his problems tonight.

It was around three in the morning when the girl began to rise from the proverbial deathbed.  Moaning slightly, she sat up, arousing Hagane from his tired slumber in the chair nearby.  On his lap, Noel blinked her sleepy eyes, yawned once then moved to a sort of strange perching place on his shoulder, which was a convenience for her size.  As the girl began to get up, he moved to her side and said, “Don’t move.  You were hurt by someone and your back was torn up pretty badly.  Just lay on your front for a while, so you don’t agitate your wounds.  Are you hungry?”

She looked at him and nodded, unable to speak.  There was fear in her eyes, one that made him wonder what had happened to her.  Were there some bazoku out there, acting even more like punks than usual?  Was it some of the less well-behaved gaijin out there?  Or was it some hardened criminal, hoping to do God knew what to her?

A few minutes and a couple of bowls of miso soup later, she was able to sit up with some difficulty.  Wearing one of his sweaters to replace her ruined shirt, she looked at him with gratefulness.  Meaning to bow deep to him, she yelped in pain once then stopped, figuring he would understand.  Thinking for a second of what to say, she finally spoke, her voice that of a slightly afraid teenage girl who’d found herself in an unlikely safe haven.  “Thank you very much.  I don’t know if I would have…would have….”  She turned away from him and started to cry.  “Excuse me,” she said after a few seconds of deep tears.  “I’m so afraid….”

“You don’t have to worry.  Whatever attacked you out there isn’t going to get a second chance, not while I’m here, anyway.  Also, if for some reason we have to call the police, there’s a koban down the street and they can be here in a heartbeat.”  Shifting in his chair, he did ask, “So what happened to you?  Should we call your parents, let them know you’re okay?”

“I will speak to the police tomorrow when I get a chance,” she replied, though it was clear that was something she was afraid to do – could going outside be that dangerous for her?  “As for my family…they died years ago.  I am alone in this world save for an older sibling that I haven’t seen in years.”

“I’m sorry,” he answered, wishing he could take it back.

“I have nowhere to go right now, and I’m afraid of what will happen if—“  She cut her own words off, shivering at the thought of something clearly horrid.  Turning back to him, her eyes filled with wild fear as she nearly shouted, “Please let me remain here overnight!  Please!  I’ll do anything, whatever I have to.”  Slightly shivering, but clearly now with a different sort of fear, she slowly and painfully made to take off the borrowed sweater.

The implication was clear.  Hagane quickly motioned for her to keep the top on.  “No, that’s not necessary.  Believe me, I’m not that kind of guy.  You obviously need help, and it would be unfair of me to take advantage of your time in need.”

She gave him a nervous smile in return, though it was clear that she was relieved that her life wasn’t about to be made worse.  “Thank you very kindly, sir.  You have a high degree of nobility and honor to be so gracious to a girl who has little to offer you.”

“It’s Christmastime.  Peace on Earth and all that.  Look, we both need some sleep, and tomorrow we can talk about it before I go to work.  Then we can figure out what’s next for you, okay, Miss—“

She smiled at him with the grace of a girl who’d just discovered her samurai in shining armor.  “Kocho.  Shibane Kocho, age 16.  And you are?”

“Hokosaki Hagane, but you can just call me Hagane.  Now get some sleep, since you need it more than I do—“ he yawned, looking at the clock, “—and frankly, I need some of it myself if I’m going to be going to work tomorrow.  Good night, Kocho-san.”

Despite her pain, fear and injuries, she gave him a warm smile, the kind that touched him in a way that he hadn’t felt in years.  “Oyasumi nasai, Hagane-san.”

A few hours later, Hagane woke up to some unusual smells.  It took him a few seconds to identify exactly what it was, something uncommon around his home: breakfast.  Opening his eyes, Hagane found an interesting surprise: perched on his nose, as though embracing him for his kindness was the white butterfly.  It looked at him with golden, multi-faceted eyes for a few seconds before flitting off and away, and out the door.  He softly laughed; perhaps the insect was thanking him for his kindness.  Then as another scent of breakfast wafted into the room, it was clear that someone else was thanking him as well.

Sure enough, there was a knock at the bedroom door.  Without really waiting for an answer, the door slid open and Kocho poked her head in.  “I thought I’d pay you back for your kindness by making breakfast.  You didn’t have much in your fridge, so I risked a run down to the store.  I hope you like an American-style breakfast, because that’s what I’m cooking.”  She smiled and said, “Take your time getting up and getting dressed, it won’t be ready for at least another half-hour or so.”  She slid the door closed and went back to whatever she was doing.

Sure enough, Hagane took that as the hint to get up.  Injured girl or not, she was a guest in his home, so he had to be more courteous.  Secondly, she was a stranger, and he’d heard tales of some high school girls setting up various scams lately, from teenage sex blackmail to outright con-artistry and even outright theft in one or two cases.  Somehow he didn’t think a girl with wounds as serious as she had was capable of that, but perhaps that might have been the reason she was being chased; pissing off the wrong sort of people will tend to do that.  In any case, he had to be at work in a little over an hour, so up it was.

About a half-hour later, he sat down at the table, to find it covered in breakfast dishes, for the first time since he bought the Western-style item.  On it was pancakes, hashbrowns, sausages, scrambled eggs, and various other dishes he couldn’t name, along with various other foodstuffs.  Over by the stove, moving slowly but with purpose was Kocho, finishing up cleaning.  Setting down the dishcloth, she sat at the other chair, smiling and saying, “Eat, please – I owe you so much, and this was the least I could do.  I hope it meets with your pleasure.”

Hagane wielded his fork and knife and dived into the food.  The first bite was like a slice of heaven, a complete symphony of delight to the tastebuds.  The second bite was even better, and the successive ones better still.  He remembered a time he graduated from high school and as a graduation gift his family took everyone to southern California for a week.  There at various places he got to experience Western breakfasts, with their oversized portions and unusual styles of cooking.  This, by far, outdid them all.  “This is great,” he said with his mouth full, so wishing to give compliments that he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t finished chewing yet.

“Thanks,” Kocho replied, daintily taking a bite from an egg-based dish that he vaguely recalled as “Eggs Benedict.”  “It’s not often that I get a chance to cook, or even that much of a chance to show off my talents,” she replied.  Looking at the flower setting on the table, with its resident seated there in its dual-hued beauty, she admitted, “You know, I’ve never met anyone who had a pet butterfly, especially in the winter.”

“The story’s a bit more complex than that,” he answered with an empty mouth this time, and then explained how he came across the white butterfly.  After a minute or two, he segued into his own question: “Speaking of stories, I do believe we have yours to touch upon.”

She sighed, for what reason he wasn’t sure.  “There’s nothing much really to tell.  My parents are dead, and I haven’t seen any of my other relatives in years.  I’ve mostly spent my time wandering around Japan trying to learn what I can and become the best I can be at, though I’m not sure what that is.  Since I don’t have a family, most people would look on me as a burden, even though I have a trust fund that I’ve had since I was a child that I use to get me by.  That and a few smart investments that my parents made when I was just a baby keep me alive.”

“So what happened to you yesterday?”

“Well, you might find this funny, but since I’ve been alone, I’ve worked as a sort of wandering hero-type – a sort of girl teen ‘Tora-san’ if you will.  I’d like to say that I’ve done what I could for people, but I’ve also found in the process that some people can’t be helped – or dealt with peacefully.”  She stopped, then banished the dark thought away.  “But as to why I’m in town, I’m searching for something, though I’m not sure yet what it is.  I realize that doesn’t make much sense, but there you have it, and as the old saying goes, "If you say that, it's all over."

“So, what about the meanwhile?  Where will you stay?  What will you do?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she replied.  “I learn things pretty quick, so I don’t have exactly what you’d call a formal education.  But I do believe that hopefully I can settle down when I find it that I’m looking for.  But I think I should focus more on healing at the moment than continuing my search.”

“Well, I’m probably crazy for saying this, but you can stay here at least until your back heals.  But I want you to report your problem to the police.  If someone attacked you, they could attack others as well.”  As he said this, a part of him wondered why he trusted this strange 16-year-old girl, especially in light of what he was thinking earlier.  However, there was something about her that he couldn’t pinpoint, something that just seemed to warm him to her presence.  Perhaps it was her plight, or maybe her cheerfulness despite all that she’d been through the previous night.  Whatever it was, she likely wouldn’t be here for too long, so there was really no need to worry.  After all, she admitted she was a drifter, and it was rare when a drifter settled down.

I of all people should know that.  He was a different kind of drifter, the sort that coasted through life without a firm anchor, likely because his had been taken away from him earlier in his life.  Had he known that losing his beloved Shiori would have done this to him, he probably would have jumped off the Sony building that day had it not been for his vow to protect Asa-chan.  But there was so much lost that day ten years past, and there was still unknown if he’d ever get that trait back; perhaps it was lost for good, buried in the sands of time and lost in the cold Tsugaru strait.

Fortunately, an interruption from Kocho stopped that all.  “Look, I don’t want to be any more of a burden to you than I already have been.  If I need to go, I should go.  But if you’ll allow me to stay, at least let me find some way of repaying your kindness.”