I said I wasn’t going back to Tokyo but there was something I left behind, one too precious to just abandon like our lives. So I went back to what I know would be an empty house, a reminder of my incessant failures. How many times have I stepped into a house like this one? Once full of promise and joy and now dark with only its creaking floors telling me it’s still real but the walls already wavering.
I take my shoes off at the entrance and tell myself, just go in and then get out. But I decide to check the main room of the house where the alcove is. The flag that I expected isn’t there anymore and there’s nothing except a sword stand. I don’t have a sword anymore so that can be left. Otherwise the room once filled with much truth or fighting for it is now just a shell.
There’s nobody upstairs. I -know- this. But I go up anyway telling myself I should at least close the windows that seemed left open from the outside. The first room is my son, neat as usual and I go to close the window that he used to climb out in. Dangerous but I trusted him. As I left the room there’s a glint and I go over to his desk. The old tsuba I beqeauthed to him, he left. I wanted him to take it and eventually let him know that one day he will be the head of the Fujita house if he was willing to help me gain my freedom. But I suppose his answer was clear so I vacated the room.
The other room, the study that was now Yukiko’s room. No. -Was- Yukiko’s room is all in order. Nothing to do except close the door but an old memory flashes through my mind. That was the room Hide and I… I can only grimace. I wanted to be the first at -something- for her so I forced something uncomfortable, painful even. She couldn’t endure but it was done. I’ve already hurt her but she didn’t want a doctor. I shake my head and push that memory away.
Finally the room of my daughter Makoto. A little bit of a mess but nothing important left and I close the window. This room was her mother’s early on. Hide and I spent a lot of time in this room, many stolen afternoons that turned into nights and sometimes into morning. But that was long ago when we were still intoxicated with each other. I guess it was fitting this ended up as my daughter’s room. No. -Was- my daughter’s room. She didn’t leave anything, perhaps that meant she doesn’t despise this father who was hardly there for her, then and now. I take a deep breath and go downstairs.
The main bedroom is just off the kitchen. An odd place to put a master bedroom but this house was already running out of space but I appreciate Kinnosuke’s effort to put one in anyway. I didn’t do him nor my niece any justice… I knew Eiji cared for Yukiko and she cared for him but it was Suzuki-san she seemed to hurt for. I had planned on going back to Akashi to demand answers from him, preposterous knowing I got in the middle opposing them in the first place but now I can only hope Eiji and Yukiko can be good to each other. I didn’t see fire there, only kindness.
But as I was passing by the kitchen, I find a letter addressed to me. I hesitate to open it. Bad news always came through letters. Things we can’t say in person because we’re too afraid to or maybe because we just don’t want an answer. Yaso’s I know came in a letter but I never read it. It’s still with Ueda-sama. Tokio’s left several letters but I only kept one. They were all the same to -not- follow her or seek her out anymore. And this one? The outside says it’s from her, Hide. Yagi-san’s daughter. My hime-sama. My wife here. No. No more. Enough.
I open it with some trepidation. She knows I’ve survived. Before I thought the curse I had was to die, just enough time to get her back. But she came to tell me goodbye and I was shown the future or the present… Now I know the curse I have is to live knowing the burdens of all my failures. That I failed to save her anyway, return her to our home and our daughters safe and fully recovered. That she didn’t want Kyoto. She wanted Hokkaido, because it was one of those places we spoke about before a long time ago. I saw Hokkaido, it is a beautiful place with a good friend to look after them. I’m happy she found a place for her and my daughters. They’ve grown she says and I choke a bit. That they’re missing something but that she teaches them hope. She tells me it was wrong to have told me that about Souji, but it’s too late now. I’d ask him myself with my blade but I’m no longer staying here. She tells me I’m a good man and that she loves me even if we never see each other again. She tells me she’s sorry and if I could tell her, I’d tell her I loved her and I’m sorry too. But I will never see her again. Not in that place nor in that time.
Taking the letter I place it in the same pocket I had my tsuba and finally go our bedroom. It’s neat. It needs nothing. It’s as if no one ever slept here. Maybe no one really did as I stare at the raised bed and remember the times I woke up with her beside me. How we managed to steal very early mornings because that was all that was left. Looking across the room, I get to see the crib illuminated by the moon. I’d go near it but I know it’s empty and I’ll never see that face that looks so much like my mothers and see those eyes stare back at me. I close my eyes for a moment. I didn’t come here for any of this. I only wanted…
I open the dresser, on the top drawer that she said was for me, I reach for that small box. I knew it would be here. My box of mementos that I once tried to share with her. Taking it out I put her letter and the tsuba back. I don’t know what happened to Yaso’s tenugui but it was likely lost in Osaka. But that’s ok. I spy the other letter, the one from my estranged wife – the one I couldn’t give to my son and the furin I took from our old house just a mile a way. Then I find the key to her tiny apartment in the land of glass and steel. I find her old pictures too but I don’t look at it anymore. We had one recent one, that of our family’s or what used to be it. I take it out of my pocket – somewhat mangled and place it back into the box. But I do take one piece out, my key in that other world. The walls start to waver again and I know I should leave. I’m unwelcome here. I understand.
Getting out of the house, I realize I didn’t stop by the tatami room but what would I do there? Say goodbye to a red sofa? Tell it thanks for the romp or being witness to it over the years? I shake my head and light a cigarette and walk across the yard. I see the vegetable garden we were starting but it’s wilted and the treehouse my son built, well maybe some other family will find joy in it. I could never give her a good dream.
I look at the time. I can still catch the last train to Aizu.