Hikaru stood close to the edge of the frozen river and wrapped her stole tighter around her shoulders. A bitter winter’s day, the wind cut her cheeks, and she prayed the light snowfall would not become severe.

 

A fox skittered across the ice from the opposite bank to her side. Flurries of snow fell on the little creature’s head and back, creating a charming scene despite the bleakness of the weather. She would describe the image to Genjiro; perhaps he would make a sketch for her.

 

She came every year, as soon as the river was frozen solid, and she waited for Genjiro to appear. Some years, he was already there when she arrived; he would glide over on his crudely made wood skates, laughing the whole way. His eyes would not leave hers and she felt instantly warmer in those minutes, even before falling into his embrace.

 

Today Hikaru was first though, so she set about starting a fire in the small pit by the outer wall of the castle. She had to remove the snow with her gloved hands, but the task kept her mind off her impatience. All year she waited for winter. It was the only season that Genjiro was encamped close to the castle, and they had any chance of seeing each other.

 

Crossing the river was dangerous for Genjiro, she had nightmares sometimes where the ice cracked under his feet, and he dropped into the freezing waters right in front of her. She would wake drenched in sweat; her futon tangled around her legs from her restless sleep. She would then run to the window of her third-floor room and pull back the heavy wood shutter, needing to see the ever-burning fires of the soldier’s camp. Regardless of the time of night, she could always make out several men gathered around the fires or pacing the camp perimeter. She could imagine that one of those men was Genjiro, and he was warm and safe there.

 

She had no fear of the ice breaking this season though. It was far colder than the previous three winters that they had been meeting and the river was sure to be frozen to a safe depth.

 

While she waited, she removed the small journal he had presented her last winter. It was her most treasured possession: filled with poems, letters, and sketches of wildlife, he shared his intimate thoughts and the beauty of the places he had discovered on every page.

 

But what she loved most in the journal were the pressed flowers tucked in between the thin paper sheets. She examined each one closely and imagined the moment he picked it, thinking of her. Some flowers still held their scent, even after a year. She held the little book to her nose and inhaled the mingling floral bouquet. The scent had kept her heart from breaking while he was away. Would he have another journal for her this year? She prayed so, eager for new adventures and poetry.

 

The wind turned then, blowing Hikaru’s robes around her and stinging her eyes. But hearing a distinctive swooshing sound in the air, she laughed aloud. Genjiro was there on the river! She didn’t have to imagine his smile any longer.

 

~ * ~

 

Minutes passed. Hikaru stood quite still, the journal pressed to her chest, patiently waiting to see him, yet he never appeared. She had heard him skating though, hadn’t she? Or was someone else on the ice perhaps?

 

“Genjiro?” she called softly. She had to be careful not to be discovered by anyone, lest they tell her father she was there.

 

Swhoosh, swhoosh. There was that sound again.

 

Losing patience, Hikaru tucked the journal into her obi and lifted her kimono off the ground as she stepped towards the river edge. She parted the tall reeds with one hand and whispered again, “Genjiro? Are you there?”

 

The wind blew rough then, scattering leaves and knocking the reeds into her face.

 

But she heard it— “Hikaruuuu!”

 

Where was he?

 

Swoosh, swoosh…

 

Snowflakes fell from the sky and the cold stung her cheeks, yet she couldn’t give up. Squinting against the wind and snow, she took a step onto the ice. Finding that her wooden geta weren’t too slippery, she took another step. Then another.

 

“Genjiro! Genjiro!”

 

She saw him then, skating back and forth across the river, one hand shielding his eyes, the other tucked into his jacket pocket for warmth.

 

Something was wrong. He skated towards her but looked right through her and turned around again.

 

“Hikaru!” he called, heading further down the riverbank.

 

“Genjiro, I’m here! Over here!”

 

The light shimmered between them, some kind of veil, dividing their two worlds.

 

She immediately choked back tears. Had it always been this way? Had he in fact been visiting her from the afterworld these past years, or had he only recently died, and was now trapped on the other side?

 

She frantically reached into the folds of her obi to retrieve the journal and heaved a sigh of relief that it was still there.

 

Still, she couldn’t understand what was happening.

 

What was real, and what was from a life, and love, imagined?

 

~ * ~

 

Heartbroken, Hikaru returned to the castle. It was still there, thankfully, as were her parents and servants. She stroked the wood of the interior walls and columns and breathed in the comforting scent of incense and the tatami mats throughout, assuring her that this place, home, at least was real in time…for her.

 

She was an only child however, and dealing with her heavy heart and confusion made her wish she had a sibling to confide in.

 

While preparing for bed, her longtime maid, Satomi, coaxed her secret out.

 

Hikaru told her everything—the meetings, the journals, and seeing Genjiro through the veil.

 

“Is he the ghost…or are we?” she pleaded.

 

She expected Satomi to laugh, but the middle-aged woman simply nodded in thought. “It’s not common knowledge around the castle, but the neighboring villagers have spoken of a deadly fever that has taken the lives of many commoners,” she explained gravely. “Perhaps your Genjiro succumbed? He was a soldier after all and had no safe home to speak of.”

 

“A fever? How awful.” Hikaru had no idea that her people were facing such a sickness. Her father, the Shōgun, was only fifty years old and would likely live another decade, yet he’d made it clear that he wanted Hikaru to rule the kingdom when he was gone.

 

“Yes, thousands across the land have died,” Satomi continued. “We are lucky it hasn’t reached the castle walls yet.”

 

What only Hikaru and her family knew was that the castle walls were protected by magic. They were all quite safe from illness of any kind.

 

Except…Hikaru had been outside the wall today. But she’d had no contact with anyone, so she shouldn’t worry, she believed.

 

“Yes, we must stay vigilant to outsiders entering the grounds,” she muttered.

 

Satomi finished brushing out Hikaru’s long hair and helped her into a yukata.

 

“I have a friend in the village who is married to a soldier in the camp. I could ask her to find out about Genjiro? Do you know his family name?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Hikaru replied. “But that would be helpful if she doesn’t mind asking her husband if he knew Genjiro? Discreetly.”

 

“Of course, Princess.”

 

Later, when the lamps were out and the castle as quiet as the moon, Hikaru sat by her window, staring at the fires of the soldiers’ camp as she had so many, many nights.

But Genjiro wasn’t there, was he?

 

~ * ~

 

It was days before Satomi returned with news.

 

“Gosh, Princess, you look a fright!” Satomi dropped her basket with a thud and closed the bedroom door, securing the bolt. “Haven’t you been sleeping?”

 

Hikaru knew she looked terrible, but the stress of waiting for news of Genjiro had half driven her mad. She had even snuck outside the castle to their old meeting place, despite the risk of the fever plaguing the lands. She had hoped to meet him again and try and communicate, however he hadn’t appeared as before.

 

“Dear, dear!” Satomi settled Hikaru on some cushions by the kotatsu and prepared them both a strong cup of hōjicha.

 

“Well don’t keep me in suspense. Did your friend discover anything?” Hikaru was practically hopping out of her many layers of robes to know what Satomi had learned.

 

“Put your teacup down,” Satomi began. “He isn’t dead!”

 

“What?” Hikaru was in complete shock. “What? Are you sure it’s my Genjiro?”

 

It had to be a mistake. She didn’t want it to be of course, but she wasn’t crazy.

 

“It’s him. I have proof.” Satomi stood to collect her basket it and bring it over.

 

“I think this will bring back that rosy complexion of yours that I love so much.”

 

Satomi handed a small blue notebook to Hikaru.

 

“Oh, a journal!” She didn’t even open it, only raised it to her nose to verify the scent. Yes, it was the same mix of floral, campfire, and distant mountains that she remembered. She was dying to look inside but wanted to view the contents in private.

 

“It’s all very strange,” Satomi said while sipping her hot tea. “All I told Kaoru was to ask her husband if there was a young soldier named Genjiro, who perhaps kept journals of haiku and pressed flowers. She knew immediately who I meant; she said her husband had started keeping a journal while away too because he thought it was romantic. She got very teary-eyed in fact. The journals mean a lot to her too.”

 

“Oh, that’s lovely.” Hikaru squeezed her journal against her chest. “So how did you get this journal?”

 

“Well, Kaoru asked for time to meet her husband and find out if Genjiro was still with the troops or not. I found her at the market today and she gave it to me. She said that Genjiro had gotten ill about a month ago but had recovered quite well.”

 

“I can’t believe it!”

 

“The unbelievable part is, he has been crossing the river every day for the past two weeks, hoping to meet you. But since you haven’t been there, he assumed you were staying away due to the fever.”

 

Hikaru was very confused. “I only saw him through the veil that one time, but I’ve been there a few times since. I stayed on the bank though, hoping he could pass through this time.” One of Hikaru’s thoughts on those days was that she didn’t usually step onto the ice, she had always waited for him by the fire.

 

“Now, Princess. You really shouldn’t be leaving the castle! What if you become ill?”

 

“I’m alright,” Hikaru reassured her. “It’s freezing out there, and I never meet anyone by the river.” And the magic walls protect me.

 

“That’s it!” Hikaru leapt to her feet. “I know why he can’t cross the river!”

 

Without giving Satomi an explanation, she leaped up and rushed out to the hallway, determined to confront her father.

 

“That darned protection spell!” she muttered as she shuffled along. It had to be the reason she and Genjiro couldn’t see each other.

 

Princess, wait!” Satomi hurried behind her. “You need your slippers—these wood floors are as cold as the ice on the river.”

 

Hikaru had been so eager, she hadn’t noticed her socked feet. “Thank you, Satomi. You always take such good care of me.”

 

“Someone has to,” she teased as she bent to place the slippers in front of Hikaru’s feet. “Now, I don’t know what has you so fired up, but think a moment. Are you going to tell your father that you’ve been sneaking out? Is his punishment worth whatever he can do or tell you?”

 

“Grrr!” Hikaru stamped her foot. “You’re right of course, he’ll be so angry if I tell him. But I must risk it. I must convince him to take the spell down. It’s the right thing to do, not just for me, but for the people. And he needs to tell everyone about the fever.”

 

“Thank you, Satomi!” She scurried off in her thick slippers, catching Satomi’s voice very faintly behind her asking, “What spell?”

 

~ * ~

 

Hikaru spent a very tense hour with her father, begging him to have the protection spell lifted, and to be honest with the palace members and villagers about the illness in their kingdom.

 

He fought her position at first, but gradually took her ideas onboard.

 

“If the protection spell can’t be extended to cover our entire kingdom, then we shouldn’t hide behind it either. We should be implementing procedures to keep everyone safe, and showing them what to do, not hiding away and letting them all die,” she had argued with all her passion.

 

This wasn’t about her seeing Genjiro, this was about leading her people.

 

“The spell was cast at great expense and as far as could be reached,” the Shōgun had first insisted, “if it’s removed, we can’t lift it back up again. But I agree with your reasoning, Daughter. It’s time to bring this crisis to light and take better care of our people. You, Princess, are the perfect person to do that. I’m immensely proud.”

 

The Shōgun, not typically an affectionate man, had stood to hug his daughter, albeit briefly.

 

Alone in her room, she was overjoyed. Not only was she given the responsibility of managing healthcare and safeguarding procedures in the community, but the veil was down. She could go see Genjiro tomorrow!

 

She still didn’t tell Satomi the full story, but enough to make the woman smile.

“I’ll go see my friend now—perhaps she can get word to Genjiro tonight that you will definitely be there!”

 

~ * ~

 

Once again, Hikaru made a fire and read Genjiro’s journal by the flames as she waited. This time though, she had the biggest smile on her face. Her cheeks hurt, not from the cold, well maybe a little, but they hurt from the happiness bursting inside her.

 

Swoosh! Swoosh!

 

There it was—so close this time.

 

“Hikaru!” Genjiro’s face peaked through the ina reeds, calling her name. He was grinning ear to ear as well. “You’re really here!” He grabbed a tree branch to steady himself as he jumped from the frozen river onto the bank.

 

“Haha! Yes, I’m here!” Hikaru hurried to his side and wrapped a spare blanket over his shoulders. “Come, join me by the fire and let’s talk.”

 

There was so much to talk about! Hikaru had held back from telling Satomi about the protection spell, but she gave Genjiro the full story. He had seen the shimmering veil too.

 

“I didn’t know what to make of it, truly!” he proclaimed. “I thought I was dead…I couldn’t bear to think anything else.” He gripped her hand and dropped little kisses on it.

 

“Did you get my journal?” he asked, changing topics.

 

“Yes, it’s wonderful!” She took it out of her layers and flipped through it with him, wanting to share all his experiences and hear his tales of life in the army.

 

They talked for some time like this, and to Hikaru it was the most magical time she could imagine.

 

“SSh! Do you hear someone?” Genjiro put down his rice ball and stood. “I think there’s…”

Before he could finish, the Shōgun stepped through the clearing, accompanied by his manservant.

 

“So, this is where you two have been meeting.”

 

“Father!” Hikaru felt her face flush with intense embarrassment. “How..?”

 

To her surprise, he chuckled. “My dear daughter, do you think I don’t know what everyone in the palace is up to? You must care about this young soldier very much to come out in the middle of winter like this. Brrr!” He moved closer to the fire.

 

Genjiro, quite speechless, tried to find his courage. “Shōgun, I beg your forgiveness for endangering your daughter is this manner.”

 

The Shōgun waved him off. “My daughter is a strong, intelligent woman. If she wants to do something, she will do it. Now, I’m confident in her commitment to you, Haneda, but the reason I came out here is to ask if you are as committed as she?”

 

“Yes! I mean, certainly. I may be only a low soldier, and my life is the only thing of value I have, but it is hers.”

 

“You wish to marry your princess?”

 

Genjiro didn’t hesitate. “A thousand times, yes.”

 

“Daughter, you wish to marry this man?”

 

“Oh!” Hikaru was trying to respond, but she was choked up with tears of joy. “Yes, Father. My heart wants nothing more.”

 

Not a man to waste time, the Shōgun nodded in agreement. “Then, it is decided. Haneda, you will return to the castle with us now. I have arranged a room for you on the ground floor, and a servant is on his way to the camp to gather your belongings there. We will meet tomorrow morning to determine a more suitable occupation for you.”

 

“Oh Father, I can’t thank you enough!” Hikaru wanted to throw her arms around her father as she had done as a child, but for now she could only repeat her words of gratitude.

 

“I’ll see you both at dinner,” the Shōgun said, taking his leave.

 

“Can you believe it!” Hikaru and Genjiro couldn’t stop hugging and kissing each other.

 

“Let’s put the fire out and go to the castle,” Hikaru suggested.

 

“Just a moment.” Genjiro picked up his old wooden skates, ready to toss them on the fire.

 

“No, don’t.” Hikaru put out a hand to stop him.

 

“You want to keep them?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Why? They’re just rubbish.”

 

“Uh-uh.” She took his hand in hers. “They are memories. The very best.”

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