Chapter #59Miko's Chronicle, part 1 by: imaj   You pick up the notebook, which is filled with page after page of Kali's small but neat handwriting, and start reading:
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Miko's Chronicle
by Kaliope Valentine
The tide of students swept through the main doors of Daigo Junior High School. Their exuberance and excitement at the end of the school day distinctly at odds with the severity of their uniforms: A whooping and laughing tide of thirteen and fourteen year olds.
Miko regarded them with a neutral expression as she adjusted her backpack. It was laden with class work and the straps were digging into her shoulders. She grimaced a little as she set out purposefully. She had more important things to do than play in the late summer sun.
“Miko,” called out a voice from one of the loose clumps of students that had formed outside the door. Miko resolved to ignore it but the voice called out again. “Miko, are you trying to ignore me?”
Miko turned round. “No Yuriko,” replied Miko, recognising the other girl. “I was just in a rush to get home,” she added pointedly.
Yuriko pouted and nudged one of the other girls beside her. There were eight of them in all, smiling and giggling, lost in their own conversations. “Aw Miko,” whined Yuriko. “Don’t you want to hang out with us for a while. It’s such a nice day, it would be a shame to waste it stuck indoors doing your homework.”
“It’s not my homework,” sighed Miko. “My parents are expecting me home.”
“We were going to go to the park,” replied the girl standing next to Yuriko, whose name was Hoshiyo. Miko didn’t know her so well. “Some of the boys were going to go there as well,” she added with a smile.
“Well I’m going home,” repeated Miko scowling.
“You are no fun at all sometimes Miko,” said Yuriko, sticking out her tongue and laughing.
Miko’s expression softened. “I’m sorry Yuriko,” she said. “You know how it is just now.”
“I sure do,” replied Yuriko breaking into a smile again. “Hey, if your parents let you out you should come meet up with us.”
“I’ll do that,” replied Miko, forcing a faint smile. She knew full well that she wouldn’t. “If not I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The girls waved and exchanged their goodbyes, leaving Miko to adjust her bag again and walk out the gate. The narrow street outside was surrounded by houses and Miko set off slowly up the hill towards her home. The students were scattering in all directions, walking off at their own paces. Miko was left to move at her own speed, not caring that she was walking all by herself.
Miko’s home was only a short distance from the school. It did not take her long to reach it. Once inside the porch, she kicked her shoes off and put on her slippers.
“Mother,” called out Miko, walking further inside. “Mother, I’m home.”
“In here darling,” came a shout from deep within.
Miko followed the voice to its source, the kitchen. Her mother stood at the cooker, dressed only in a simple silk robe. The robe hung loosely on her slender frame, distended only by her heavily swollen belly. Miko watched as her mother stirred the pot. It smelled delicious.
“How long now,” asked Miko, moving in beside her mother. She sniffed at the contents of the pot experimentally.
Her mother laughed. “Still a few hours till we eat dear,” she replied, petting Miko’s hair with a free hand.
“I meant the baby,” replied Miko. She looked up at her mother. There was a timelessness about her mother’s face, making it impossible to judge her age. As far as Miko was concerned, her mother was still the most beautiful woman in the world.
Miko’s mother smiled again, a warm and friendly smiled. “I am eight months pregnant now Miko,” she explained. “It will only be a few weeks now. Your father insists that it will be a boy,” she added, cradling her stomach with her free hand. “He hopes desperately for someone to carry on his line.”
“I can carry on his line,” interrupted Miko angrily. “I’ve been training for it too.”
Miko’s mother gently stroked Miko’s hair again. “And you’ve done very well,” she replied. “Your father often speaks about your skill to me, but you know how he is: Very traditional. His wants a son to be his heir, just as he was his father’s heir, and his father was his father’s father’s before him.”
“Girls are just as good as boys,” shouted Miko angrily, stamping her foot.
“I know darling,” replied her mother. “He is very proud of you, he just can’t say it that’s all.” She paused for a second to think before reaching up and pulling out the comb that held her hair in place. Her hair cascaded down around Miko’s mother’s shoulders like a waterfall. “Take this,” she said, offering Miko the comb. “For safekeeping,” she added with a smile. “I know I can trust you with it.”
Miko looked at the comb as she took it from her mother’s hands. It was a plain thing, crafted from wood and chipped with age. A few stray hairs were still clinging onto the comb. Miko’s mother closed Miko’s fingers around it. “Put it somewhere safe for me Miko.”
“Yes mother,” smiled Miko. She carefully put the comb in one of the side pockets of her backpack. “Do you want help with dinner?”
Miko’s mother smiled again, this time with a little tiredness. “No, I can manage here thank you dear. Why don’t you go speak with your father.”
“Where is he,” asked Miko.
“Downstairs of course,” replied her mother, ruffling her hair. Miko scowled a little and fixed her hair back in place with her hands.
The poky little basement of the house was cool when Miko climbed down the stairs into it. The little windows set high in the walls were dirty and very little sunlight penetrated inside. Miko found the cord at the bottom of the stairs and pulled it to turn on the light. An elderly, unshaded light bulb buzzed on, adding its own weak illumination to the room. Tools and paint cans and other odds and ends lined the simple shelves set into the basement walls. There was no sign of her father, but Miko hadn’t expected there to be.
Miko moved one of he paint cans to the side, revealing a small brass representation of the sun set on the wall. There was a rumbling sound behind her and Miko turned round to watch as several stones in the centre of the basement started to sink. They formed a staircase leading further down.
Miko clambered down the steps, which were twice as deep as a normal staircase. There was another brass sun set into the wall at the bottom, matching the one above. She gave it a twist and behind her the staircase slowly moved back up into position. Miko then followed the gently sloping corridor that down towards the bright glow of her fathers training room.
*****
You put the notebook to one side for a second and rub your eyes. The richness of lunch and all that work on those essays have left you feeling more than a little drowsy. It's tempting just to stop for a few moments and rest your eyes
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