The creature led her up a narrow, twisting path towards the southern-facing cliffs of the mountain. Occasionally, he would look back to be sure she was still with him. Tsukiko was struck by the strangeness of the situation. For all she knew, that wolf was leading her back to his den to be slaughtered by the members of his pack. Still, some small inkling inside told her that would not be the case. Eventually, the wolf disappeared from view and she grew alarmed. Her nose told her he was nearby, however, and she exhaled. After craning her neck all around, she caught the small flick of a gray tail slipping between a dense patch of brush.

She edged into the thicket the wolf had entered. Peeking through the end of the branches, she saw a secluded meadow. A cave stood at the back of the grass line. All around were the blue, fan-shaped flowers that Granny had mentioned. Relief surged through her. The wolf perched once more on his hind legs, near the hollow in the rocks. Tsukiko wondered how the wolf knew about her need for the Heaven’s Flower. All at once the intensity of her mother’s situation came to the forefront of her mind and she knew without the wolf, it would have taken ages to find the herb. She rushed out into the clearing, bowed before him, and then snatched up every one of the plants she could see.

Because she had not brought a sack with her, she shoved the stems inside the front of her yukata, too bent on her task to be embarrassed by the ample skin she exposed in the process. The wolf remained near the cavern mouth and watched, flicking flies away from his body with his tail from time to time. When she had picked all of the herbs, she turned towards him, bowed again and said, “Thank you.”

He regarded her with that same intensity he’d shown the entire time she’d been excavating the herb.

“You must hurry.”

Tsukiko gasped and fell backwards, several flowers falling from her bosom. He’d spoken… out loud! The wolf inclined his head and pushed a paw toward the slope that led down the mountain. Tsukiko’s mouth hung open.

He growled, “Hurry!”

Urgency spiraled down into Tsukiko’s heart as she started her descent. Her odd helper did not follow and when she turned back to look, the wolf was nowhere to be seen. A shudder ran through her as she ran and she knew that she had likely just met a servant of the gods. She wondered if he’d helped her because of her prayers. Above the dense forest canopy, the suns were just setting. Tsukiko smiled. She’d be able to make it back before dawn. She smiled, knowing that her mother would now get well sooner.

Night swallowed her up as she picked her way down the mountain and into the forest. It took considerable effort not to lose her footing, but her improved eyesight revealed the correct places to step each time. It was uncanny being able to see so clearly in the darkness. It was not something she had truly thought about before. In the house, she never really required the use of her eyes in the dark. She knew where every room and piece of furniture was without trying to look. Here in the woods, navigating a treacherous mountain pass, her eyesight had become something essential and important.

The chorus of cicadas and frogs assaulted her sensitive ears and her own heart’s blood beat furiously against the walls of her skin. Never had she felt so alive. Despite her worries for her mother, Tsukiko’s mind was distracted with the feel of the forest and the way she wove through it so fluidly. Mother and Granny had never allowed her to enter the forest after dark and yet as she sprinted over the mossy ground and drank in the night air she knew she had missed out on something wonderful. Now that she thought long and hard about it, Tsukiko realized she had never ventured too far from their hut and their small strip of beach in her entire life.

Now, years of missed adventure stole her attention. It was as though she had been born to move through the forest. That sensation gave her pause and she slowed her pace slightly. Just what am I? Her improved mood sinking, Tsukiko furrowed her brows and spent the rest of the trip focusing entirely on her mother’s illness and how she could be of help to Granny in tending her. Creatures of the earth and trees deferentially made way for her as she flew over the ground and avoided the trunks of pines and maples. Some small part of her noticed the respect the animals paid her as she made her way home.

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Just as first light rose over the mountain and the shadows grew menacing before her, the back garden and the hut came into view. She hopped over the fence and slunk under the back flap to the storage room. The putrid smell of decay overwhelmed her when she entered the kitchen. Her long-nailed hand clamped down on her nostrils to lessen the effect. Tsukiko could not think. She prayed the scent was merely an amplified odor of sickness. Rushing to her mother’s bedroom, she slid open the screen in one savage swipe.

Her mother lay on a bedroll, a white pallor seeping onto her skin. Tsukiko’s heartbeat quickened. Granny was also on her sleeping mat, wheezing and clutching at her chest. Chills broke out on her arms as Tsukiko stared at the carnage the illness had wrought in just a single day. Thankfully, her mother and grandmother were alive. That was enough for the time being.

Knowing a little about medicinal teas from Granny, Tsukiko wasted no time before making a strong potion from the blue flowers. First, she took the stone mortar and pestle her grandmother kept in the storage room and beat the petals and stems until a beryl-hued pulp formed. Then, she squeezed out all the excess liquid and put the paste that remained in the tea kettle with clean water. She hung it over the hearth from the wooden carp hook. After letting it steep for half an hour, she drank a small cup for herself and filled four shallow cups with the brew. Tsukiko brought them into the bedroom on a tray.

Because her mother was the worst, Tsukiko rested the damp-haired head on her lap and raised her up enough to help her drink. Mother stared blankly before her and could not keep any tea down. It simply trailed down the sides of her face, staining her soiled yukata. Tears formed in Tsukiko’s eyes and she tried again. This time, some of the tea trickled into Mother’s open mouth, but the woman gurgled and spat it up before going comatose once more. Refusing to give into despair, Tsukiko whispered sweet words to her mother, promising to return after she tended to Granny.

Her grandmother was not quite as bad, but there was blood on the withered, old hands and Tsukiko bit her lip fighting her tears as she watched the old woman cough up more.

“Granny?” the girl tested.

“Tsukiko?” the old woman replied, her voice hoarse and rasping.

“I brought them—the Heaven’s Flower—just like you told me… but…” Tsukiko couldn’t finish. She was overcome by the sobs that escaped her.

“Don’t cry, Tsuki’chan.” Granny lifted her bloody hands and touched her granddaughter’s face. “We’ll get through this, just you watch and see.”

Tsukiko pressed the woman’s hand firmly to her own skin and nodded, somehow managing to avoid hysteria. She knew the only way to maintain her mental control was to try her best to heal them. Bringing the cup to Granny’s lips, she watched with relief as the old woman gulped it slowly, taking her time to swallow each sip. Tsukiko did not dare to look back at her mother. The cough had stopped, but she had felt Mother’s flesh and it burned like fire. Granny’s convulsions seemed to calm somewhat and the girl went back to her mother’s side. The woman’s eyes appeared hollow and dazed as though she were some creature long since dead.

“Mother?” Tsukiko’s tears fell onto her mother’s ashen face.

“Ts-suki…chan?” Mother’s eyes refused to focus and her voice was little more than the faintest whisper.

“I’m right here. I brought medicine for you.” Tsukiko brought the cup up again, but Mother shook her head— grimacing from the effort.

“No, your… your father,” Mother began.

“Sh. Save your strength,” Tsukiko chided, stroking her mother’s hair and attempting to wipe away some of the sweat from the pallid face. “We’ll talk when you’re well again. I promise.”

Granny had fallen asleep and Mother’s eyes drifted closed sometime after. For a while, Tsukiko rocked her mother gently, her face pressed into the damp and matted hair. By noon, she was humming to them and reciting old stories in an attempt to bring some comfort to the dimming room. By nightfall, the stench of death hung so heavily in the house that Tsukiko turned her head and retched into the pail of water she had brought to wipe Mother’s brow.

The sounds of the night started to creep in about her and Tsukiko listened for the cicadas and the crickets— praying they would take her mind off of what was happening. She smelled the wetness in the air and was not surprised when a gentle rain descended on the hut. The plinking of the drops on the roof was momentarily distracting. She pulled her mother and grandmother close to her and held them, one arm around each body. The rain continued and thunder joined the steady drum beats on the rafters.

Tsukiko knew they were dead, but she hugged the women tighter and tried to smell the remnants of their living scents. Her whole life had been stripped away in the space of two days and her heart felt like a beaten, defeated thing. Tsukiko’s trip to retrieve the Heaven’s Flower had been a waste of time. The tea she made had merely eased their inevitable passing. Until dawn, Tsukiko let the thunder shake the walls and the water pour through the open windows. She cared nothing about the dampness she would endure until the storm abated. It was enough to clutch the remaining threads of her life close beside her before they, too, were ripped away.