The Samurai’s Garden

“To think I wasted all these years on a monster,” Kenzo yelled, backing away from Matsu. “Now I understand everything! She’s all yours, Matsu, no one else would want her!”

Matsu didn’t say another word as he shielded Sachi, who stood behind him. She was crying softly, as she pulled the scarf tighter across her face.

I quickly stepped back into my room and leaned heavily against the wall, as if I had just taken the blows given to Kenzo. I didn’t want Sachi to know I had witnessed her shame. If she did know, she might never be able to face me again. I wanted nothing more than to tell her how beautiful she was, to let her know she didn’t have to hide from anyone, especially not from someone as cruel as Kenzo. But I knew my words would be a waste of time.

[Sachi] stood perfectly still for a moment, then, without saying a word, pulled the scarf down and away from her face. She turned the damaged side of her face to me as her left eye strained to open wider. The scars appeared like a matted white web, stretched from her chin to her eye. […] If Sachi was trying to shock me then she was in for a surprise. I had known from the moment I met her that she was very attractive. But it wasn’t until I came to know Sachi that I began to see how beautiful she really was.

“Does Matsu need this?” she whispered, the dark scarf gathered around her shoulders.

I never took my eyes away from her scarred face.

“Yes,” I answered.

Sachi bowed her head and said nothing.

“I’ve spent my life doing what I thought was the right thing to do. I’ve never tried to hurt anyone, not in my business dealings and certainly not with my own family. I’ve always followed my judgment in everything, weighing one decision against the other. But in this matter, I didn't have any choice but to follow my heart. We are all here to live out our own fates. I just hope you can try to understand what has happened. The most important thing is that you know I love you all very much.”

[…] As his mouth softly formed the words, I knew the sense of integrity I had long admired in him had died, and that I was already grieving for its loss.

“So now what?,” I asked, after an uncomfortable silence between us.

“We go on living,” he answered.

Matsu lowered Kenzo’s body from the wooden beam. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch his friend. I could hear the low thud of Kenzo’s body as it fell to the counter. Stunned, I stepped closer to see his blank, bulging eyes and the bluish skin of his face, which looked waxy and unreal. I turned toward Matsu, who stared hard at his friend and didn’t move for a long while. Then he bent down toward Kenzo, whispered some inaudible words into his ear, and carefully closed his eyes. Without saying another word, Matsu turned around and walked slowly out of the tea house, through the waiting crowd, and down the road to home.

“The next thing I knew, Sachi had stumbled, while the crowd kept pushing forward. […] I had just a moment to grab Sachi from behind and lift her to her feet. She was so light, it took so little effort. By the time she turned around, I had disappeared into the crowd […] When the festival was over, Tomoko spread the rumor that it was Kenzo who had saved Sachi, even though he had been carrying the shrine all the time.”

“Didn't Sachi or Kenzo say anything?”

“Sachi never mentioned it, until now. It’s sometimes easier to believe what everyone else believes. Besides, they were sweet on one another, and what could be more romantic?

“And now that she knows the truth?” I asked.

“Sachi only said, ‘Sometimes you can't see what is right in front of you. I’m sorry, Matsu-san.’”

“‘Those years are like another lifetime,’ I told her.”

After [Matsu and Sachi] left, I sat in the garden for the longest time. I tried to comprehend what it meant to die, to move on to an eternal sleep and never wake up again. Ever since I had come to Tarumi, I’d seen more deaths than in all of my life in Hong Kong. Everything before me was changing. I knew I would never be able to step back into my comfortable past. Ahead of me lurked the violent prospect of war, perhaps bringing the deaths of people I knew and loved, along with the end of my parent’s marriage. These were terrors I’d somehow escaped until now. And as I sat among the white deutzia blossoms, I felt a strange sensation of growing pains surging through my body, the dull ache of being pulled in other directions.

I looked over at Kenzo’s tea house which stood dark and empty. I could almost imagine seeing him last year during O-bon, his trim figure rushing back and forth, carrying trays of drinks to thirsty customers. He might have slapped Matsu on the shoulder and invited him in for a beer. Only this year he was gone, leaving Matsu to honor him with food and drink. And what must Sachi be feeling this O-bon? I wondered if they were celebrating the dead in Yamaguchi?

It was hard to imagine what the future would bring to any of us. All over Japan they were celebrating the dead, even as more and more Chinese were being slaughtered. There would be no one left to celebrate them.