Chapter Text
Dark storm clouds covered the midnight sky. The wind was howling through the leafless trees, and rain was pouring down. In the distance a rumble was heard, followed by a flash of lightning. In the storm a young woman walked, soaked to the skin and ice-cold. Her dress was filthy, and her belly was heavy with an unborn baby. She sunk down against the wall every now and then but had to keep moving. She had to find shelter from the bitter cold.
Her hazel-brown eyes were glazed with pain and the rain on her cheeks mixed with tears. She groaned as a wave of pain wracked through her body. She waited for it to go away before she finally reached some sort of gate. Relief swept through her, and she grabbed a rope that was attached to a bell. She gave it a few good swings and prayed to God that the clinging could be heard over the thunder. She felt her knees buckle and grabbed the iron bars of the gate to keep her up.
A light flashed on and a few moments later, a woman rushed out the building, holding a lantern as an only source of light. She opened the gate and swung her arm around the waist of the pregnant woman. She gently pulled her up and together they made their way into the building, to a room where it was warm and dry.
In a small chamber, the only light coming from candles, the young woman lay in a bed, her forehead covered with sweat. The bed was drenched with it and a few smudges of blood had stained the blankets. Next to her, in a cradle, lay a baby, nicely tugged in with blankets. It was sleeping soundly while the mother was shifting nervously in her sleep, her silver-colored hair greasy.
A maid cleaned the young mother's forehead with a wet cloth. Worry was glimmering in her eyes. She murmured calming words of comfort. She looked up and dipped her head as two people walked in: a woman and a man.
''I found her outside, doctor,'' the woman said. ''She was well on her way. Yachi got the baby.''
The doctor nodded and gently grabbed the hand of the mother. Her skin was too warm, and he noticed that there was no ring on her finger. He carefully laid the hand back down.
‘'Always the same,'' the woman from earlier spoke and shook her head. ''They never learn. They will do anything for some nice talk or a nice dress from a rich man. I don’t fall for that.''
''And the child?'' the doctor asked, ignoring the comment of the woman and looked at the baby who had started crying.
The woman sighed and turned her gaze to the little child. ‘'Hopefully he dies of the same fever as her,’' she quietly mumbled, and stared down at the baby, a hint of disgust in her eyes.
The doctor placed a hand on the baby's belly and felt a small grumble under his palm. He pulled back. ''It's hungry.''
''They always are...'' the woman mumbled. ''A greedy mouth and who pays for it?''
''The cross we must bear, Kiyoko,'' the doctor said and shivered slightly. Without a fireplace, this room was bitterly cold.
Kiyoko inspected the doctor. ''You're cold. I’ll give you a gin to warm yourself up,'' she said and walked to the door. Just before she exited, she turned and faced the maid who was tucking the mother in. ''Once it's done, ask Kita for a box.'' She turned her gaze to the baby. ''And make sure he's registered.''
The maid dipped her head. ''Yes, Kiyoko.''
''Sanitize that dress and get the mud off. That's mine.''
''Yes, Kiyoko.''
''And that petticoat. She no longer needs it.'' Kiyoko turned and left the room, followed by the doctor, leaving Yachi and the mother and child alone.
The young woman stirred and opened her eyes. ''The baby,'' she whispered and looked around, eyes glazed with fever. ''The baby.''
Yachi pulled the blankets back up and murmured softly: ''A boy.''
The woman smiled. ''I want to see him. May I see him?'' she asked and weakly reached her arm out for her child. She waited for Yachi to come back with her son and her smile grew even wider when she finally laid her eyes on her boy. ''He's strong.'' She carefully ran her fingers over the baby's cheek.
Suddenly she stiffened and her breathing quickened. She looked up at Yachi with panic in her eyes. ''I'm going to die, aren't I?'' she whispered, and tears formed in her eyes.
''We're all going to die...''
''In my purse, a letter, can you send it, please?'' the woman begged, her voice quivering with fear. ''For the baby?'' She wrapped her arm a bit tighter around her son, breathing still way too fast.
Yachi shook her head. ''That is not my place, Miss,'' she murmured and looked down at her feet.
''You must send it, you must,'' the woman insisted. ''He'll come get the child. Can you tell him that I’ve never forgotten his kindness and love?'' A tear ran down her cheek and the light in her eyes was already fading. ''Please, sent the letter.''
Yachi took a step back and walked to the nearby table where the clothes and purse lay. She grabbed the still soaked fabric and reached inside to grab the paper.
Hope and grief surged through the woman as she took one last glance at her son. ''My son...'' she whispered and took a shaking breath. ''My little boy...''
Yachi had the letter in her hands when she suddenly noticed that the room was quiet. Too quiet. She walked to mother and child and looked down in shock as she saw that the light in the young woman's eyes had died down and now stared up at nothing.
The maid bended over the dead woman and noticed a small golden locket. She reached her hands behind the neck and unlocked the necklace. She held it into the light and smiled at the sight of the gold reflecting the candlelight.