"Father…are you certain about this?"  The young boy looked up at his father with wide, frightened eyes.  He had never really known his mother, the woman who birthed him.  In fact, his whole life, he had been cared for by his sister.  

To be the child or grandchild of a former daimiyo in the Meiji era…well, there were no longer such titles for men like his grandfather who had been loyal to a government that turned its back on her most loyal supporters; taking back the land they had been given.  Granted, all that had happened years before Kohaku or even his sister had been born, but the sting of being displaced like a peasant had affected his grandfather greatly, and thus, his father as well.

"Even if it were my choice…"  The older man trailed off sadly.  There was no way he would be able to continue supporting his family at the rate they were going.  The crops had been especially bad that year and still having his daughter at home was seen as a bad sign.  True, she was as headstrong as she was beautiful; there were several men who had asked for her hand as soon as she had become of marrying age, although they were always denied immediately.  

"I will not do this!"  Sango stormed into the small hut she shared with her father and brother, glaring at the elder of the males.  "Father, you cannot just…sell me like some common whore!"

"Sango, please," Kazuki sighed.  It was hard enough to have agreed to the matchmaker's offer.  "At least see what the matchmaker has to say.  The old man seemed kind enough and said his son needed a wife that was adventurous and determined."      

“What if he is cruel or beats me?” she demanded.  She didn’t like using her father’s fears against him, forcing the man to second-guess his decision, but she wondered.  Regardless, at this point, she certainly wouldn't admit to be terrified about the prospect.  "And who will help you take care of Kohaku?"

"I do not know that he will not," Kazuki admitted, looking away from his daughter's bright, angry gaze.  "But I also know that you would never allow that and if that is what does happen…I am certain there is something we could do to bring you back home."  It would likely mean selling what little land they had left, but he would figure something out.  He would have to.  He'd never lied to his children and just because he was entrusting Sango to another man far away didn't mean he would start.  "And Kohaku is thirteen.  He's old enough to take care of himself.  He cannot have you here spoiling him for his entire life."

"And until he marries…" she argued.

"We can take care of ourselves, Sango," he finally snapped, a little harsher than he had meant to.  "You need to look at making your own life; you deserve to find happiness or at least some better life than I can give you here.  If that means going away, then that is what I am willing to do for you."

"Father," she whispered, horrified.  She hadn't thought at all about how her father felt about possibly losing her to a foreign land.  "Oh, Daddy…" she whispered, throwing her arms around him.  "I am sorry…"

"Maybe someday, we can come and see you, too," Kohaku interrupted, trying desperately to keep himself together.  He was old enough that he wouldn't cry, even if it meant that his sister was leaving him.  His father wasn't crying, after all.  He didn't expect their arms to reach out and pull him into their shared embrace.  In the sanctity of the shelter they provided, he could feel both of them trembling and the hot air was moist with breath and…no, only Sango was crying…wasn't she?

"Hello?"

The remaining members of the Shimazu family pulled away from each other, Sango hurriedly wiping her tears away on her apron as her father composed himself.  Straightening his back, Kazuki strode to the door and allowed the old man and woman into the house.  "Please, come in."

As the guests were being led inside, Sango turned and began laying out tea cups and a plate of onigiri for the guests.  It wasn't much, but it is what they had and even with the shortage of rice, there was no excuse to be rude to the visitors, even if she didn't like why they were there.  After everyone was seated, other than Kohaku, who had been shooed outside, she dutifully took her place beside her father and poured the tea, painstakingly keeping her eyes down to give a good impression.

Shortly afterward, the talks began, and while her father and the matchmaker were discussing exactly what would happen, Sango felt the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention.  She dared to lift her gaze upward and found the old man gazing at her intently.  There was something about his eyes that made her want to squirm, but she refused; no matter how sweet and submissive she was supposed to be acting, she wouldn't back down from such calculating scrutiny.

He was rather round and bald with beetled brows and a drooping mustache below equally drooping eyes and a red nose.  He was dressed like a priest and although worn, Sango had the feeling that he hadn't seen that much hardship in his life outside of where to find the next bottle of sake.  She was slightly irritated that she couldn't see what his mouth was doing, but by the vague lines across his expansive forehead, she guessed that he was waiting for her to do something.

If he wants something, he will get it.  "Mushin-sama?" she began, looking directly up at him.  "May I ask a question of you?"

A slight raise of the old man's eyebrows told her she had piqued his interest.  "Of course.  I would very much like to hear what question might possibly trouble the young lady."  He slowly got to his feet and gestured to the matchmaker and father to stay seated as Sango rose to stand beside him.  "Perhaps we should take a walk, you and I.  We can leave the tedious business to those who have an interest in it."

Sango could do little more than nod and began to walk with Mushin, three paces behind him until he slowed and spoke over his shoulder without turning.  "How do you expect us to talk, young lady, if you insist on lagging behind?"  She blinked a few times, but hurried to stand beside him and they began walking once more.

"This man…he is your son?" she questioned, wondering just how old her future bridegroom would wind up being.

"Only in spirit," he replied honestly.  "His parents died when he was young; I was a friend of his late father and so, I took him in at the monastery.  He was raised there, the best I knew how.  I am afraid that a man raised by a poor monk does not increase the feelings of a young lady such as yourself.  His father was in the same position your own is in; his mother was a gentried lady, but she was disowned when she left with Katsuro.

"He tried everything…but Emi…she became very sick after Miroku's birth and did not see her son to his third birthday.  Katsuro followed her four years later and the boy was sent to me."  Mushin sighed and started for a clump of rocks near the river, his stride surprisingly strong for a man who looked so very old.  "Please understand…he went to Hawai'i to make it on his own.  He wanted very badly to be a man that I could be proud of; he felt that even as a monk, he was not doing enough to help."

"He…he is a monk?" Sango blurted out, her eyes wide.  What kind of monk wants a wife?  

"Yes; a houshi," he explained, staring across the water.  "We had been hearing about the way our countrymen were being treated overseas.  He felt that through spiritual guidance and his knowledge of defensive arts, he could aid them.  But, he must procure and heir, and soon.  Perhaps I am an old, foolish man and superstitious, but I cannot help but feel that his line is cursed with bad luck."

Sango raised an eyebrow.  "I am certain the matchmaker knows none of this, and neither does my father," she pointed out smoothly.  She looked at the old man with his stooped shoulders and hanging head.  "So why would you chance to tell me?"

"Because, as I said, I am an old man with superstitions," he replied, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes.  "I have met many young women in my time…several that would be better candidates as a wife for the boy.  However, none of them had the aura you do.

"Do not take offense to what I said," Mushin warned, raising a hand when he saw her mouth drop open to object.  "You are a well-trained girl.  You have the perfect body to bear children and you are very lovely.  But beyond that, you have too much will of your own and your father taught you to fight.  Most do not see that as an advantage in a woman."

"You say most…" Sango began slowly, staring at the old monk, ignoring the pointed comments he had made about her form and features.  What kind of woman does this Miroku need?

"I do.  But you will be strong enough to do what needs to be done," he said thoughtfully, nodding his head slightly.  "I have heard stories of you, Shimazu Sango.  In fact, if it had not been for a disgruntled and unsuccessful suitor, I would never have found you."

Sango felt her face burn at the description of the informer.  Who could it possibly have been?  There had been a handful of men that had asked for her and each one had been turned down.  They wanted someone that would accept orders without question… someone with no ideas of her own.  A few even got it into their heads that all she needed was a man strong enough to put her in her place.  They were the worst…and normally the ones who limped away when she was through with them.  So he wants someone who is not a real woman, she thought sadly.

"My boy…he needs someone to stand beside him.  He needs a partner as well as someone to love," Mushin explained, seeing the hurt flicker across her face.  "And sometimes…he can be a little playful.  I know you would not let him become too much so.  That is the last bit of discipline he needs to learn above all."

"Playful?"  Sango blinked.  This Miroku didn't sound like any monk she'd ever heard of.  

"But a good man," Mushin insisted.  "I swear to you, he would never abuse you or treat you badly.  He will protect and honor you if you were to pledge yourself to him in return."

For a brief moment, she was taken back by the fierce loyalty in the man's voice.  Although he had been speaking so very gently, when it came to explaining just what this young man meant to the oshou.  Could she really pledge herself to someone she had never met?  Could she bring herself to try and love someone she didn't know at all?  What would become of her family?  How far away would she really be going?  Her thoughts were interrupted with Mushin’s voice making plans for her to go to the nearest town to get her picture taken.  She blinked and excused herself.  “Well, he will need to know what you look like when you get off the boat, will he not?"

"I suppose…"

"And it would be well-advised that you send a letter as well.  I have one from him, as well as a photograph," Mushin told her, glancing around before he reached into his robes to remove a sealed packet.  He pressed it into her hands and smiled.  "Please, at least look at the letter and find it in your heart to give this old man some peace.  I will very likely not last the winter and someone must care for him."

Sango's breath caught in her throat.  Mushin seemed so strong a moment ago, but now, the signs of fatigue she had first thought had been there and disappeared had returned.  His eyes were still so tired, but they held so much hope, and his hands shook just a little as he pressed one on top of hers.  The touch was chilled and moist, but comforting.  This man was making a plea to her…to help the one he raised as his own child.  Her father would do the same for Kohaku, if they were in the same circumstance.  She knew even she would do the same.  She didn't trust her own voice, but she nodded mutely, tightening her hold on the bundle of paper and picture.

Mushin nodded and pulled himself to his feet, although he was slightly more unsteady than before.  Sango's mind flashed with panic and she found herself rushing to his side, offering her arm to him.  Had their little walk and conversation taken that much out of him?  If so, she had to wonder if he would even see the snow one more time.  She made up her mind; even if he was a horribly disfigured monster, she couldn't bring herself to say no.  She would go to Hawai'i and become the bride of the houshi.