The Spirit of the Plum Blossom Tree (TSPBT) - 16. Chapter 16

It was late into the evening. I had already made the girls food, a cheap dinner from what I found in my sister’s pantries. They had grown restless from sitting and listening to my story for so long, and now they were seated before the television in the living area.

Tuning out the sounds coming from the TV, I dialed my sister’s number on my phone once again. This was the third time in as many hours, and I was nearing my limits on how much longer I would wait before looking for her. Hong Mei was not one to pitter around on her shopping trips, and while she may take a little longer due to traffic or wait times, they never took her 7 hours.

As her voice-mail spoke to me for the third time, I made up my mind. Something must have happened to her, and with my particular history in Shanghai, it wouldn’t be too off the mark to guess my enemies would target her looking to get to me.

The passage of time does little to lessen a blood feud, no matter how many years it has been.

Shrugging on my coat by the door, I return to the kitchen, pulling out a drawer of knives. I pull one out, one with a polished wooden handle and a long, thin blade. Slipping it into my sleeve, I close the drawer and step into the living area, feeling the metal warm against my skin.

“Nuhai, come here.” I gestured with my unburdened arm, and my nieces came to me. Lian babbled something excitedly about the show they were watching, while Youya watched me with those dark eyes so similar to her mothers.

I smiled at them, rubbing Lian’s head. “Your muqin has asked me to come to help her carry her groceries,” I lied, kneeling down. “It is very cold outside, however, so you two must stay here. Just keep watching your show, and we will be back very soon.”

Lian pushed her lips out in a pout. “Why can’t we help mama?”

“What, do you want to turn into an icicle?” I teased, tickling her as she squealed and rolled away. Standing, I turn my gaze to Youya, who stares at me unblinkingly. Her eyes are big and her pupils are blown wide, and I notice as her breathing starts to quicken.

Shit. Immediately I take hold of her arms, tipping the knife further into my sleeve as I free my other hand to move. Scooping her up, careful of the weapon in my clothes, I move to the kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Humming softly, I rock her back and forth, holding her close to my chest.

It had been a long time since she last had one of her episodes, and I was a little surprised to see it resurface. I had thought she was doing better, but it seems something I said triggered a relapse.

I still remembered the very first episode she had, back when she was 6. Youya had always been more… how to say it… attuned to life. Open to the other side. It was something I would have laughed at in my younger years, and attributed to her being a child, but now I know better.

Her father was the first to realize it, and he made sure to never discredit the things she said, acknowledging them as truth. He encouraged her drawings of strange winged creatures, never interrupted when she spoke to her ‘other’ companions, and would be the first at her bedside when she woke up screaming and crying from nightmares.

He was her hero, her supporter, and a great man and father to both his daughters. But the angels must have missed him, for they took him back in a cruel and violent way a couple days after his children’s sixth Christmas. A bus driver had a heart attack and swerved onto the curb he and Youya were standing on, on their way back from grocery shopping for dinner.

He had pushed her out of the way and took the brunt of it full force, and was pinned with one other man between the bus and a nearby restaurant as it crashed. Several were injured in the accident, and two were dead, including the twin’s father. Youya had been there to watch it happen, forced to watch as his body crumpled and twisted in ways it should have never been in, slowly dying a bloody, mangled death as his bones crushed his innards.

It took days for Youya to go to sleep after that, and when she did it was for very short intervals before she would wake up screaming and calling for her fuqin. It took weeks for her to finally talk again, and a couple months before she was capable of returning to school.

She used to say strange things, like her father was talking to her at night, telling her he would return soon. She said she could see him following her, watching her for periods of time before vanishing. Lian used to listen, but soon got freaked out about it, especially since she couldn’t see him. It got to the point where Lian was scared to sleep in their shared room at night, and would only sleep if it was in their mother’s bed.

Finally, Hong Mei called me after a week of rough nights, and asked if I would talk to her about her sight. I agreed, and the next day I went to her shikumen for the first time in years. That was when I discovered Youya’s tie with one of the Yamas of the Ten Halls…

I shuddered, breaking out of my reverie. Just thinking about one of those ancient bastards getting close to one of my nieces made me want to break something. Preferably their necks.

In my arms, Youya had begun to calm, her breathing returning to normal and her eyes blinking regularly. Her episodes had started young, not long after she returned to school. They consisted of versions of panic attacks that ranged from silent hyperventilating to screaming fits and angry smashing of objects. Years of therapy had finally helped with that, I had thought, but my mention of shopping must have triggered it again.

Next to the chair, Lian stood, her usually cheerful and vibrant face solemn. She held her sister’s hand, a small anchor to reality. Perhaps one day Youya would understand how important Lian’s seemingly insignificant actions were, but for now she was too young.

“Baba,” I heard Youya say in a breathy whisper, and my humming stopped. My heart, my shattered and pieced heart, crumbled in pain at the word.

“Bu shi, wai sheng nu,” I said softly, swallowing hard past the lump in my throat. “Jiujiu.”

She looked up at me then, realization slowly appearing in her eyes. I was not her ‘baba’. Her ‘baba’ was gone, never coming back.

As her lip puckered and tears filled her eyes, the front door opened, and my sister hurriedly stepped into the entryway. She dropped her bags on the floor with a thump, shaking out the snow on her coat and unfolding the scarf from around her head.

“Yo! It’s cold out there.” There was a shuffling noise as she picked up her bags. “Who’s ready for-”

She stopped as she saw the scene in the kitchen, and dropped her bags for a second time. Rushing over to where I sat, she grasped Youya’s face in her hands, searching all over her daughter. “What’s wrong, my baobei? Are you hurt?”

Her lip quivered, and for a moment I thought she would break down, but she kept herself strong, wiping at her eyes with an arm. “I’m fine, mama. It’s nothing, I promise.”

After inspecting her daughter thoroughly, Hong Mei stepped back. “Alright. Ah-Lian,” she kissed Lian on the head, “Come help me put away the groceries. I got your favorite snack.”

Lian cheered as she followed her mother, and Youya pushed herself out of my arms. I set her down gently, and rubbed her head. “There is no weakness in tears. I’m here for you, Youya.”

I will never replace her father, and I have no intention of doing such a thing. I will be the best Jiujiu she could have to repay my mistakes, and I will take care of my sister the way I didn’t when we were younger.

Youya nodded, sniffling once, then turned to follow her twin and mother. Before she took more than two steps, however, she suddenly turned back to face me. “Does your story talk about the Yamas, Jiujiu?”

I felt my stomach drop at her words, freezing for a moment before I stood from the chair. “It… vaguely addresses them. Why? Are you curious?”

She shrugged. “Eh, no reason.” With that, she continued on to where I could hear Lian giggling in the pantry.

Pushing in the chair, I made my way over to the kitchen drawer of knives, slipping the one in my sleeve back in and shutting it with barely a sound while the other three were distracted. It appeared I didn’t need it after all.

As for Youya’s odd question… Well, she could not be allowed to know too much about the Yamas, for her own safety. Not until she was an adult. I had told Hong Mei as much, and while she was unnerved, she understood the need.

They absolutely could not find out she was still alive.