Atop the Mounatin

Up the Mountain

     "The worst part is I know I can't stop you," he groans.
     Giyuu sighs  and rolls his eyes.  Checking over his supplies again.  A change of clothes, plenty of rations, a thick winter blanket for the nights, a tin canteen for water that he can put over a fire, a box of matches, and emergency medical supplies.
     "You won't bring a pot?  Extra shoes?  More socks?  I feel you should bring more socks.  Do you have a map?  You'll get lost if you don't have a map."
     "Sabito...  I've been doing this every year since I was 11."
     "I know.  But you are bringing a map, yes?  I didn't see you pack a map."
      Giyuu sighs.

      "Oh lay off him Sabito.  He needs this anyway.  This town is too hard on all of us."
      Sabito grumbles in agreement with Makomo and turns back to their card game.
     "I'm leaving early tomorrow morning.  I may be gone by the time you wake up."
     "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."
     "Sabito!"

---

     Tomioka lays in his futon, unable to sleep.  He never is on these nights.  The nights before he leaves on these trips.  It has been nine years now. But every year the same silly feeble hope comes back.  He might find them this year.
     The fire lotus.

     There is an old legend.  About the temple on top of the mountain their town was built at the foot of.  The Temple of Tsugikuni, home of Tsugikuni-kami-sama.  Known to be kind beyond belief.
     They say he came to the town one night.  He looked like an average human when he arrived.

     The town was on the brink of death, half built and hit by a harsh and early winter.  The man came down the icy road barefoot in all red and had a basket of charcoal on his back.  Supposedly he went to every house and gave them as much charcoal as they needed, supposedly his basket never ran dry.
     Supposedly, when morning came he was sitting by the well with his still full basket at his feet and a sparrow in his palm.  The shogun fell at his feet and thanked him from the bottom of his heart.
     As the story goes the man smiled and took off his straw hat, dusted with snow.  And hair made of fire fell down his shoulders as his flaming eyes blinded the poor old man.
     "Take the wood from my forest." The God said.
     "It will fall easy and burn like coal.  But take too much and your fires will never burn again."
     "How will we know when it is too much?"
     "When every child is warm it will be enough."
     And then he dissapeared.

     As the story goes, the town never had a hard winter again. Because every new year they pray to the Tsugikuni God of Fire.

     And as the story goes, he can grant wishes.

---

     Giyuu did indeed leave before anyone in the group home was awake.  He put on two pairs of socks stuffed his map in his sleeve and layered his thickest haori, warmest scarf, and only pair of gloves before heading out into the dark winter morning.

     It takes a whole day of walking, eating nothing but soupy rice and eggs.  And then he stops.  There is an ancient pine tree that splits in two like a massive slingshot sticking out of the ground.
     He glances back to his map, he has the tree marked down in bright red ink.  This is the only solid clue.  A tree split down the middle but growing regardless.  To it's east is a pond.  The pond.

    He sighs and continues his trek through the snow puffing hot breaths into clouds in a desperate attempt to warm up his freezing ears.
     The legend goes that there is a pond, halfway up the mountain, deep in the woods.  And in the dead of winter, two weeks after New Years, fire lotus bloom in this pond.  Abnormally large lotus that are an array of beautiful reds and golds.  He can only pray this will be the year he finds them.
     He tromps through more snow and passes the same river as last year, starting to follow it again, this time up instead of down, hoping to find the pond along it.
     He groans as he feels his eyelashes freeze together and kicks a lump of frozen snow aside.
     He pauses when it splashes.