Ray of Sunshine

Dawn. Yue hadn’t realised it, but she’d been awake all night. A sliver of soft, silver light illuminated the blue horizon. Now that she was aware, she could hear the birds just outside their bedroom window chirping. All throughout the winter, that tree would cast ominous shadows into the room like bony fingers ready to snatch Hinata in one swift movement.  

Yue shivered at the memory, pushing the thought from her mind as she watched Hinata’s chest rise and fall. She was only a week old, but she looked so peaceful in her sleep. With a smile tugging at her lips, Yue gingerly stroked a finger down Hinata’s cheek. The baby gurgled, starting to stir.  

“Hinata,” Yue cooed. Hinata hummed, already stretching her limbs before her eyes opened. Slowly, one blinking eyelid at a time, Hinata managed to gaze back at her mother who was now resting a cheek in her palm. Yue lay on her side; she could see the first rays of sunlight peek from behind her new-born.  

Her eyes drifted from the window to the dresser by their bed. It was small and worn. The wood was dull around the edges. Atop sat Hinata’s baby bottle—now half empty—and a single picture frame. Though she had no recollection of it, it was a photo of her fast asleep in her husband’s lap and he caressed her onyx hair that matted to her face with sweat.  

They had been on the run for weeks. She’d grown tired with her previous pregnancy and often needed to stop for a rest. The only way of maintaining her stress was putting herself to sleep and her husband, Haru, lulled her. His hands were calloused and rough, but always so tender with care.  

A throbbing in her chest made Yue choke on a sob. It hurt. The absence, the longing, they were a vacuum she couldn’t fill. It wouldn’t be too bad on most days; she was good at keeping occupied with Hinata or playing with her eldest Hana. The children were too young to remember him. Hana was only three when Haru had to leave.  

Yue had grown used to it after all these months, but even still, there’d be moments. She'd notice a floral design on one of the plates while washing the dishes. She didn’t know their names, but they were similar to the wildflowers she’d braid into his hair whenever she stopped to rest. Going days on little to no food or water took its toll on them, but Haru would simply smile and brush a stray strand of hair from her face.  

“I hope our child has your face.” he’d say. Yue knew her face must have been caked with dirt and grime. Her dry lips would be cracked and even bleed on some of the harder days. Haru hadn't faired much better with his dark circles and ashen skin. “I hope they have your smile.” Yue would reply.  

Sometimes when she walked into town, holding Hana’s hand so she didn’t wander, she’d see another mother trying to console her wailing infant. How many nights had Haru stayed awake, singing to Hana when she’d cry because she needed to be fed? Yue’s health had spiralled after the first birth, she could barely walk without Haru’s aid. Something she kept hidden away in her heart would pinch at its walls.  

Yue didn’t despise the feelings, she actually held them dear to her, but she knew they would only continue gnawing at her until she bled dry. With two children in her care, those were feelings she couldn’t have the luxury of accepting.  

With morning light pouring through their bedroom window, Yue took and deep breath, sitting up straight. “Good morning my love, my little ray of sunshine.” she picked Hinata up to cradle her, preparing to breastfeed. Haru had named Hana, delighted that their firstborn had rosy cheeks. Yue was grateful the birth had been veiled by a grove of oak trees, but she had desperately wished for it to end.  

She spent a gruelling 27 hours in labour before Hana was born. Utterly exhausted, she could hardly speak, yet when she turned her head to see Haru swaddling their child in an old shawl they’d managed to salvage, they appeared almost ethereal. Haru had smiled back at Yue, a tear trickling down his cheek, “let’s call her Hana. She’ll be our little flower of hope.”  

Hinata was named after the sun. Yue had to birth her alone in their tiny home, struggling to calm Hana down through the night when she didn’t understand why her mother was in pain. It hadn’t been any easier the second time round, but after Hinata was born, Yue was greeted by the warmth of the dawn.  

Yue’s eyes crinkled with fondness at the memory while she fed Hinata, listening to the baby chicks calling for their mother just outside the window. Hana would be awake soon too; Yue would have to get breakfast ready for her while she brushed her teeth. Placing Hinata over her shoulder now, rubbing her back to burp her, Yue made a mental list of chores she’d need to complete for the day.  

“Mama!” Hana called. She was up earlier than usual. Yue responded, “mmm?”  

“There’s a man in the house.”  

Yue froze, sudden dread solidifying her muscles. Had they found them? After years of running, was she finally caught? What would happen to her children? They’d be taken too, sold off to the highest bidders!  

“Hana! Get away!” Yue bolted out of the bedroom, clutching Hinata to her chest with fierce determination. Only... as soon as her eyes fell upon the man, her legs nearly gave away. In a few months, his facial hair had grown. His clothes were muddied and ripped in places and his right arm was wrapped in bloody bandages. However, his eyes, though tired and lined with new wrinkles, regarded her with the same affection.  

Standing there, glowing under the morning light, Haru smiled. “I’m home.”