Year of the Boar, Eleventh Month, Day 8.

I have recovered sufficiently well that the midwife agreed that taking some fresh air would do me good. To my embarrassment, she insisted Sasanuma actually carried me outside to sit on the verandah of the tea house in the south garden. The view of the lake is pleasant and although I would prefer to participate in the proper ceremony, taking tea is a solace so I suppose I must overcome my embarrassment and enjoy the time in the sun. Such as it is; the weather grows much colder now and the sun is the palest sliver trying to burn through the haze of low cloud... soon it will be too cold to sit outside without a fire and not long before it is too cold to sit outside at all...

Sasanuma has left me to go and deal with some military matters but I was able to talk with him as we took tea together earlier. I have told him the truth about my feelings. It was a difficult conversation; I had no wish to hurt him but I could not have him believe that I return his feelings with the same ardour... He said that he understood but I heard the catch in his voice... the tightening of his throat and I saw how he pressed his lips together hard just for a split second before he spoke and I know I have done what I wished not to do... I know I have hurt him. 

As I sit here writing, I realise that my cheeks are wet and I do not know why. Could it be that my feelings for him are, in fact, deeper than I believed...? It matters not... I could not involve myself with Sasanuma, with any man, until the child is born and White Lake is forgotten in a swirl of ash consigned to the winds... But I did not like the look of hurt in his eyes... I did not like knowing that I had caused it... and I liked even less knowing that things between us will be awkward in a way they have not been before now...