Maeko- I needed to write this. Out of boredom. I was going to post it on but it's more original fiction that anything. I hate it. And I think it's repetitive. But review anyway, if you like!

Every day is a struggle. It’s like that for everyone- none are exempted. I’ve seen many fall and be crushed under the weight of life itself- others complain constantly about the rich landowners who ‘think they are all that matters’.

Even more, though, know they have wasted their lives and want their children to prosper.

It’s all in the children, isn’t it?

Yes. Everybody know this. This is why we break our backs each day, so that the little ones can eat. Then we sell all the things possible so that when they can go to the cities, they’ll have some money in their pockets.

Miyake Midori was right when she asked for all to be trained in self defense.

Ever hear of thieves?

I’ll admit I’ve been one myself. This is why Matsuoka Yayoi no longer has a sack of rice.

It’s for Usagi. And Etsu. And Yutsuko.

Yayoi has no children. And she’s due to die soon enough.

Why am I thinking such terrible thoughts?!

See what being desperate drives you to do?

My darlings can eat now, for a whole week. I watch them devour the rice, from my position in the shadows.

Yutsuko startles me. “Mama? Eat.”

She’s three years old. Demanding that I eat.

So I finish her bowl. She’s happy that I did.

Happiness. I’ve practically forgotten that existed. And the thought of smiles disappeared too, a long time ago.

But Yutsuko gives me one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yasuo was late tonight. When asked what took him, he replies the shipment was stolen, and-

I hear nothing after that. I am frozen.

Stolen. It’s gone? What…

My gaze transfers from Yasuo’s furious face to those of my three daughters. They are playing by the fire, working scraps of fabric in little animals, flowers, makeshift dolls.

Stolen. This means Yasuo has no money in that worn down pouch of his. This means our income is gone.

Until the next shipment. That’s in a month.

Now what?

The cracked sake jug that I have guarded with my life will now be empty, Yasuo and I know.

That rice can’t last a month. Especially between five people.

“Anata…are you hungry?” I whisper. He stops mumbling curses and stares at me.

“There is still some rice left…” I continue, gesturing towards my refused bowl. I could’ve eaten that and let Yutsuko have a full serving. But I didn’t, did I?

His wild eyes meet mine after staring at the food.

“Hungry…I have been hungry. For five years, I have starved. Now you ask me if I am hungry?!”

His voice is raised from a hiss to a yell. Usagi, Etsu and Yutsuko stop what they’re doing and give us somewhat frightened looks.

Usagi asks in her tiny voice if we’re okay. Yasuo sits back on the futon, looking a bit stunned. He’s never yelled at me like that.

I assure Usagi that all is fine, Daddy is just stressed, and after a few moments of silence, all three go back to playing.

“Yasuo…”

“You eat. I’ll find something tomorrow.” Yasuo crawls under the faded kakebuton we’ve had for so long. I notice a red mark on his shoulder as he shifts a bit and reach out to it, but draw my hand back and get up.

“It’s bedtime,” I announce to my children. They all moan but go over to their futons, snuggling under the covers.

For a moment, I feel like this is a normal family, that these girls live in a respectable part of town, and are like any other five, four and three year olds, quick to complain and accept.

I tuck them in, give each a kiss on their foreheads, then go back to Yasuo and lie down next to him. He’s mumbling something in his sleep. I make out the words “filthy thieving bastards” and cringe.

Tell me my daughters will one day be living in the world I imagine every night for them, honest young women working in a decent place, maybe in a shop or running an inn or even working at the market, something besides toiling in the dying rice paddies and selling what you could have eaten.

That cold, sticky rice looks appetizing.

I’ll save it.

I’m going to get them all out of here, whisk them away to the nearest city and set them up with good jobs.

I know many other women in the shacks around me are thinking the same thoughts. It’s not like we’re silent all day when working the fields. We all envision a better world, don’t we?

But we’ve missed our chance to live in such a place. And we’ve all got our own pathetic excuses.

So everything will go to the children. That money in my sake jug will one day allow my daughters to leave.

That’s our excuse to keep living. We’re all going to give our sons and daughters a better life, aren’t we? Yes, this is all for the children.

The children.

-FIN-