Chapter 2: The Rose

Haruo Makino was not a wise man.

Looking at his life as a whole, one could trace the thread of foolish decisions. From the time he frittered his youth away and refused to learn a trade, to the time he married just to anger his parents. Like the time he rashly left the town that reminded him of his deceased wife, and took up an occupation that he had no aptitude for. And now, at the pinnacle of his foolishness, he had gotten himself lost in the supernatural depths of the woods he had resolved to enter no more.

The previous week's events had shaken the town of Eitoku, and Haruo Makino most of all. He had so far persisted as a woodcutter in the dangerous forest by only skirting the edges of it, unlike his rash daughter who would explore as far as she could. He figured she must have inherited some of his folly. After Eitoku had suffered such a vicious beast attack, for her sake and his own, Haruo had resolved to quit any business involving the woods.

And how does a middle-aged man with no skills, little sense, and a small amount of savings accomplish this? Apparently not through betting on the horses in the next town over, for now Haruo found himself not only penniless, but drunk and in debt, and hopelessly lost. Following the road through the forest at night had seemed a simple task, but not only was Haruo foolish, but also terribly unlucky.

The further he delved into the forest, the darker it got. The tree branches above created an impenetrable roof, blocking out the light of the moon and stars, creating a world that seemed to exist beyond even time itself. Haruo shivered. How could anything grow in this evil wood? he asked the dark.

A blue bird burst from the underbrush, frightening the poor man, knocking him back upon his seat. The sprightly creature cocked its head at him from a nearby branch, then flew away and landed on a distant stone.

Having seen nothing so lively in many hours, the bird almost glowed in the dark woods. Haruo swallowed nervously. This forest was uncanny, the beast being only one of its rumored inhabitants. Yet, the bird seemed friendly enough, and perhaps his plight was so pitiable that this was a guiding spirit sent to aid him.

The bird took off then, and disappeared through the trees.

"No," Haruo cried, "You're meant to guide me! Come back!" He stumbled to his feet and ran in the direction the bird had flown. Branches whipped at his face, roots tangled his feet, and as he burst through a patch of shrubs, he beheld a tall and imposing castle surrounded by a stone wall.

The blue bird poked its head out from a crevice in the wall, gave a chirp, and ducked back inside. Unsure if he should believe his eyes, Haruo followed after numbly. There was just enough space in the crack to squeeze through, and he emerged in a snowy, frozen garden. In awe he surveyed skeletal orchards which had long lost their leaves, frozen fountains, evergreen shrubs heavy with snow, and frozen dirt beds that must have once been home to an army of blooms. He rubbed his eyes. But…it's still autumn, he thought.

He began to suspect that nothing more could surprise him, until he entered what seemed to be the centre of the garden, and discovered a rose bush with four large flowers. The red roses were open in full bloom as if the summer sun beamed down, seemingly heedless of the frozen waste surrounding them.

Haruo thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and tears suddenly filled his eyes as his daughters came to mind. Whether it was a case of his bad luck, history of foolish decisions, or something else entirely, Haruo reached out and snapped the stem of one of the roses.

Instantly he heard a distant roar come from the castle. Knees buckling, he turned and stumbled out of the garden, through the hole in the wall and dashed into the forest. With his heart in his throat he ran, only slowing once he thought his lungs would burst, and found that he had somehow ended up back on the road he had lost. Filled with fear, he made his way back to Eitoku, barely registering that he still clutched a brilliant, red rose in his hand.