Completing the Origami

"Fold.
Unfold.
Fold.
According to the lines.
A closure to create a beautiful origami."

---

It came to a point, at one part of the journey, where I was surrounded by a fog of swirling mist.
Groping my way blindly seeking for a way out, I asked my heart for an answer.

It told me a story of a young Shogun.

Chains of blood ties and love.
The Shogun, as high and mighty as he was, was ridden down by heavy chains of an oppressive mother and a bed-ridden wife.

His mother had hopes of her son to magnify the glory of their family name.
Because of this, she had disapproved of his sickly wife.
So sickly was she, she was almost burden to someone with important duties such as him.

But it was all due to be soon though.
And once its over, she would ensure the mistake is not committed once more.
And the mother made a firm tug at the metal chain.

Silk strings in the wind.
The Shogun also had many concubines.
Amongst all ravishing beauties, one had caught his eye.
In the dead of the night nearing to dawn, something brushed against his face.
A single thread of silk was flying in wind.
A shiny silver thread of silk.
It pulled him towards her.

But just then there was a clank of rusty metal.
There was a forceful tug and he broke from his stationary stance and staggered towards the other end of the chain.
It was a desperate call from his beloved wife.

There was no time to find out more about his new encounter now.

But perhaps there's some time later?

With that hope in mind, he held onto one end of the string.

Spinning thread balls shone with a glimpse of light.
As the string tugged along, the ball of thread spun, rebounding the golden sunlight from the first of dawn.
The concubine watched the spinning ball of thread with delight.
It looks so magical, like a golden globe spinning within her sewing basket.

Suddenly there was a snap.
The spinning sphere halted and stayed motionless.
The ball of thread lost its glow.

The concubine anxiously retrieved the broken end of the string.
She was so sure that she saw the Shogun tugging at the string.
But as the other end came slipping back towards her, her heart skipped a beat.
Like the momentarily glow, what seemed to be an imaginary silhouette of the Shogun disappeared in the midst of falling petals of the Sakura tree.

The concubine can only wonder what was on the other end.

Weaning chains of love are strong threads of attraction.
On the other end of the string, the sickly wife of the Shogun whispered her goodbyes.
She would rather be with the sun, and be a free spirit floating in the depths of the sea.

The Shogun cannot comprehend the pain he felt.
His beloved was slipping away, and the chain stretch further than ever.

The chain started to waste away into nothing more than a fine thread.

But the bite of the thread into his flesh hurt more than a million whips of the heaviest iron chains.
The pain shot through his wrist and ebbed into his pumping heart.
He released the string leading to his discovery and tugged at the thread that was almost severing his right hand off his arm.

As he struggled from grip of the thread; the chain on his left wrist began to shake violently.

The helpless man shut his eyes just as the silver string slipped out of his sight.

Now suspended between the tugs of both chain and thread, there was no more love he could offer to that concubine with the string.

Hyourin of Yume.
Beside the pillow of the now devastated concubine, lies a hand-sewn rabbit doll.
It carries the promise of sweet dreams which laid abundance on the moon.
The moon is so high it could reach where all the dreams go.
Only rabbits with their hindlegs can jump so high to reach the moon.

Will her dear rabbit bring her sweet dreams tonight?

Her stomach was rumbling as she buried her face in her tear-soaked jasmine pillow.
Nothing, but the sweetest cakes can quench her hunger.
Should the Shogun send her a half eaten cake from his supper spread...

A chill ran down her spine, wavering her belief.
Would be she be dreaming forever?
She suddenly felt cold, as though she was stripped naked and thrown out there into the darkness.
Should the Shogun send her his travelling cloak...

The concubine laid there on her bed.
Trying to figure out before sleep creep up quietly upon her.

With that, the story came to an end.

Standing alone in the chilling wind, I'm not exactly brave.
But I will stay stationary and wait.
For I know all would be calm when I feel the softness of the cotton bunny against my heart.

---
A story retold, in japanese style.
Hope you like it.