The Lotus Peak

Eka was a child of the mountains. Literally. She was born on a mountain in rural Georgia, and made a few trips back there when she was younger. The raven-haired girl lacked the time to go back now, as much as she wished she could. Maybe when she was more famous, she would have more time off, she thought wistfully. But at the moment she was a wrestler and a student, done with a frantic semester at Tokyo University. Unlike last year, Eka decided to spend the holidays here in Japan, and celebrate with her Japanese friends.

But first, she set out to do something she had wanted to do for a very long time. The wonderfully vibrant city of Tokyo was nestled not far from Mount Fuji, a large and mystic mountain that loomed over the city. She reached the summit and meditated at the top. It was quiet and peaceful, and she enjoyed every second up there. The wind ceased to howl, and the penetrating frost lost its fangs up there. Eka took off her thick woolen hat and took a quick selfie to commemorate the occasion. While she had had no revelations up there, she did feel a spiritual presence, which helped quell the worst of her lingering doubts.

Now Eka was on the way down, mirroring the downward path of the sun. She was wearing a black parka, and bright orange pants. A crimson University of Alabama scarf adorned her neck, and the woolen hat that kept her ears warm was white and sewn by her grandmother. Evening had come to the mountain, and the temperature was beginning to plummet. There was a little campsite not far from where she was, and Eka could make it there before night fell.

But first, she wanted to rest a little bit. Eka had been climbing mountains for all her life, and every single time it was an arduous experience. She set her pack down on a rock and sat on another rock. There was a faint ripping sound, but Eka did not hear it through her hat. Her thick mittens meant that dealing with the zipper and navigating through her backpack was hard, but she managed to produce a green apple from it and take a bit. Eka reclined a bit to enjoy the view.

Feruza, on the other hand, was born below sea level. In a desert. Next to a lake. So, naturally, mountains fascinated her. There were mountain ranges in Uzbekistan, yes, but they were far away from her home, and her family didn't travel that way too much. So when she found herself with a weekend off, she jumped at the chance to go to Japan's highest peak. It was only a short train ride away, and, as the train approached the mountain, she had to stop herself from gasping. Oh yeah, she was camping on there. She was camping as far up the mountain as she could.

After the train ride ended, and she took a short bus ride, she was there. The mountain was gargantuan, probably the biggest thing she had ever seen. She was humbled by its size... for a second. But then she realized that she was going to conquer this thing. She was going to be the queen of the mountain— indisputably!

She knew that the mountain would be trying to conquer her, too. That's why she was wearing her grandfather's trusty Red Army winter coat. It was big and olive green, but she thought that she rocked it nonetheless. In addition, she was wearing an old Soviet ushanka, one with the flaps that went over your ears, that she had bought from a surplus stop in Tashkent before she had left to join AFW and a nice big backpack containing a lightweight tent as well as some food and water. She knew they would come in handy. Her ears were snug in that furry cap, the pack was secure on her back, and she was ready to scale this thing.

So her ascent began. The mountain was daunting, a steep task, and before she was halfway up the mountain, Feruza was rather tuckered out. She was going to just keep going, keep persevering, until she saw a raven-haired girl fumbling with her zipper, sitting on a rock. She laughed a little, and approached her. "Hello!" she said, waving to the girl. "Are you have problem?" she asked, wiggling her gloved fingers nimbly. "Is help need?"

Eka had to pull her scarf down to take a bite of the apple. The texture was crisper than usual but the fresh mountain air made it sweet. A harsh crunch rang out down the mountain, and only after several chews did Eka recognize that there was someone else standing in her field of vision. The trek up the mountain had been a lonely one for the most part and it was nice to see another person. Especially given how pretty she was. She looked down at the snow around her and towards her backpack.

"Uh, no thanks, I am fine. And you are welcome, to, uh..." She turned back to the woman in front of her, and Eka's blue eyes went wide with recognition. She had only seen coats like that in her history books, and she had an ushanka just like that one in her dorm room. That was a Soviet military jacket, and one in awfully good condition given how old it likely was. Eka blinked, not quite believing what she was seeing. In all her weighty tomes, she saw picture after picture of heroes wearing jackets like this one, and essays analyzing this gear. And now here it was, in the flesh.

"Uh, is that..." She began, before her soft words died in the cold. Eka swallowed and began again, this time in Russian. "" Her lilting Georgian accent was far more pronounced when she spoke the Russian tongue, doubly so given how excited she was. "I am sorry. It has been a long time since I have spoken Russian, yes?"

The Georgian girl scooted over on the rock, and patted it as if it were a couch. "I am fine, but why don't you sit for a while. The top of the mountain is not going anywhere, yes?" She smiled as she spoke. Then she got on her feet and extended a hand. "I am Eka."

"How did you know I spoke Russian?" Feruza asked in her self-proclaimed "pretty good" Russian. "Was it— oh, was my jacket, yes?" she said, hitting a fist against her chest and smiling. "Was my grandfather's. He was in the Red Army." The Uzbek was rather proud of that fact, and that this 70-year-old jacket still was as warm as the day it was manufactured by the people for the Great Patriotic War.

"And do not worry about your Russian. Mine is... not the best. I have not used it in long time, either." she admitted, laughing and shaking hands with Eka before laughing and taking a seat on the rock she was offered. "This is true. I am Feruza. From your accent... are you a Georgian?" she asked, subtly examining Eka. The presumed-Georgian was quite the looker, and she looked like she held a hell of a chest beneath those warm winter clothes.

And the girl was so excited, too! It seemed that her jacket (or something she had) had piqued Eka's interest very much so, so much that the girl she had just met was falling over herself to talk to her. Was Feruza just that pretty? Hmm... maybe, but probably not.

On another note, that apple looked delicious. Perhaps this would be a good spot for lunch? "Um, Eka, you would not mind if I had lunch here, would you? I know we have just met, but that apple is making me very hungry."

Eka shrugged. "It was just a lucky guess, yes?" The Georgian girl was intently listening as she wanted to pick up every part of the story. Soviet history was made real in front of her. "You must be very proud of him. I would be very proud if I were in your shoes. My dad was a medic, in Afghanistan. You must be very brave to join the Red Army." She raised her finger high as she spoke, as if she were standing at an invisible lectern. It was something that both of them knew, but still, it was fun.

"Still," she said, "it is nice to speak this tongue, yes? It is so nice to meet you." Eka was being sincere. She made a friend in Alicia, and nearly blew it just as quick. The Georgian learned that she could not impress anyone by trying to be someone else, so before Mount Fuji, on top of the world, she was going to be herself. Unrepentantly, unabashedly, unapologetically. She felt Feruza's gaze on her, and she didn't mind. Eka has been working hard on herself, and it wasn't like Feruza could actually see anything under all of those layers of clothing.

"Yes, I was born in Georgia. My parents are from Georgia, too. But we moved to America when I was very little. I grew up in a city called Birmingham in Alabama and I think Tokyo is a little nicer." She explained. "And I am a student in Tokyo. Where are you from?" Eka vaguely placed Feruza in Central Asia, but it was hard to differentiate the countries precisely sometimes.

Eka bent over, and pulled her backpack on. "It is getting quite late, yes? The temperature has already dropped, and soon it will be colder. I understand that you have not reached the top, but it is unwise to go further now. In my bag," she gestured to her bag, "I have some extra food, if you would like to share with me. There is a campsite a little ways down. We can make dinner and camp there for the night." She took another bite of her apple. "We do not want to be this far up for so long, yes?

"Yes, yes. There was no room for a bitch in the Red Army. Oh, bobo told me so many stories of his time..." she said, trailing off and remembering her dear grandfather. She missed him. A lot. "Trust me, I am the most proudest of all of the granddaughters." she said, smiling in fond memory of her bobo.

"Yes! Russian is such fun language to speak." Feruza said, snapping out of her trip down memory lane to talk to her new Georgian friend. What were the chances of meeting another girl from the CIS hiking on the same mountain as her? It couldn't be that high. "The feeling is, uhh, what is the word... mutual!"

Oh, now they were introducing themselves. Eka seemed to have had an interesting life. "Birmingham? I think I have heard of that place." she said, a tad idly. "A student, yes? Ah, I did not go to college. I am not smart enough, and my parents are not rich enough." she said, tapping her head and smiling weakly before cheering up. "But that is why I am here in Japan! To make money!" she said, that joviality back in her face. "Oh, and I am from Uzbekistan."

Eka made a good point. It was, in fact, getting late, and the temperature was dropping faster than the sun was. "I have my own food, but... aw, what the fu— heck," she wasn't sure if Eka was okay with her slightly foul mouth. "I may as well have some. I should save the rest of mine for the hike tomorrow." she said, walking over to Eka's bag, and gasping. "Erm, Eka... you may want to see this."

It seemed that Eka's bag had been placed a bit too harshly on the rocks, and there was now a deep tear into both the bag and the tent stuffed inside of it!

Eka blinked. Feruza's words were true, she supposed, but she had never quite heard it in those words. The Red Army had no bitches. There was a lot of truth to that statement. She blinked again and tried to get back into the conversation, and her face lit up with joy. "You have a right to be very proud."

The woman was just racking up the truthful statements. Russian was a fun language to speak. In her studies, she had had to read it quite a few times but this was the first chance she had to speak it quite a few times. And this was the first time it was only tangentially about Stalin. "Oh yes, it is." Eka was speaking on two levels. It was fun to speak Russian of course, but she was happy that she found a friend.

"It is a nice city. It is not so nice, I mean," she floundered a bit, "but it is home, yes? Well, one of my homes, I guess." She scratched her hat, briefly forgetting that she had it on. The Georgian girl was still reaching, trying to find a way to save herself. "And I am sure you are smart enough to get into a college. It is a bit colder here than it is in Uzbekistan, yes?"

As it turned out, her new Uzbek friend did want to share her food. Eka was quite glad to share a meal with Feruza. Then her jovial mood soured as she saw what had befallen her bag. Eka's eyes went wide with fright. She frantically went over to her bag and turned it over and over. She was horrified to find the gashes in her tent and her pack. Upon closer inspection, the tear in her bag only ripped one of the outer pouches, making it quite superficial. But the hole in her tent was quite serious.

Eka was on the verge of tears. The temperature was dropping very fast now. If she worked quickly, she could maybe sew the hole up. But she would have to take her gloves off, and that wasn't a fun proposition at all. She kicked some snow and hit her hands on her legs like a child throwing a tantrum. It was so frustrating for this to happen on the way down. There was no way she was making it all the way down the mountain, either.

Then she had an idea. "Um, you have a tent, yes? Maybe I could stay in your tent tonight?"

"Oh? That is too bad. My hometown... well, it was more of a village. Very low. No mountains. In desert. So that is why I am so in love with mountains like this... Nothing like it in Uchtepa. Oh, Japan is so much better than my hometown. The mountains, the ocean, the clean, running water..." she trailed off, before realizing that she was talking too much about herself again. "Oh, what am I doing? I am probably boring you." she said, laughing a little bit and apologizing.

"Eh, maybe I am smart enough, but my parents just do not have the money. That is part of why I am working here, too. I love Uzbekistan, but it is not the right place for two people as sweet as my parents to live. I want to bring them here." she said. "Uzbekistan can be cold, too. There are mountains there, yes, and I could sometimes see them from my house on a very clear day. We just did not travel often, and I have only been hiking on them a few times. Mt. Fuji... it is so different. All the mountains in Uzbekistan are craggy and in ranges, but Fuji-san is remote, kind of... lonely. And so beautiful." she said, before realizing that she had done it again! "I really must stop myself! I am always going on such tangents.

And then she discovered the tear, and Eka was so terribly upset.

It pained Feruza to see even somebody she had known for only a few minutes so upset. She followed the heartbroken Georgian, and gave her a big, warm, Soviet hug. "Do not worry, Eka." she pulled away from the hug, but kept her hands on Eka's shoulders. "My tent always has room for a friend who needs it." she said warmly, before hugging the poor Georgian tight once more.

Eka was listening intently. The wind had picked up a bit, which meant that she had to lean in a bit to hear her Uzbek friend. Birmingham was a bit boring, but she never had to worry about clean or running water. The Georgian girl felt a bit embarrassed to complain about her home town in such a manner, in front of such a person. She had never had to want for money too much. Sure, she was a student, but she had her scholarship and the salary AFW gave her. The Georgian girl had never truly known want. Feruza was not boring her, but she didn't know what to articulate to her in response to her little soliloquy.

"There is nothing wrong with tangents," said Eka, who went on tangents almost constantly, "and yes. It is quite interesting. It has been a sacred site in Japan for a very long time. A multitude of people have come her on their pilgrimages, and we are the most recent ones. The mountains of Georgia are as beautiful, but not quite as holy. And the mountains of Alabama are neither holy nor that pretty, yes?" She extended her finger as she said her last line.

Eka gladly accepted the hug back. She honestly could not remember the last time she had been hugged, at least this deeply. Human contact in which her partner was not trying to beat her up nor try to forcefully fuck her was always welcome. Even more so that her new friend was offering her a place in her tent. Instinctively, she grabbed Feruza's hips. "Thank you, friend." A second later, she realized that her hands were on Feruza's hips, and she let her go and looked a bit embarrassed. "We are not dancing, yes?" She said with a laugh. "Or not yet I should say."

"Not yet? What are you implying, my Georgian friend?" Feruza asked with a silly grin and a wink, before breaking off the hug. "Well, I suppose we should begin our hike down, yes? You said yourself that it will get very cold, very fast." she said, walking over to where she had set her pack down and picking it up. "I will admit that I did not look for the campsite... could you lead the way, friend?" she asked, laughing nervously.

Dammit, why didn't she look for a campsite? She guessed that she had just been too confident in her abilities... again. Whether it was wrestling or hiking, it seemed that she was always just a bit too sure of herself. No matter. This time, her headstrong...ness had made her a new friend in Eka. So maybe it wasn't such a bad quality to have.

"I can bring up rear, and make sure nothing falls out of your pack, eh?" she asked, laughing a bit at her own joke.