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Jacqueline Taylor

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Ikasu sat down at the table, glad that the crowd had finally gone. Okusama sat next to him and gently took his hand into hers. She smiled at him, but he looked away. He was glad the end was almost here. He didn’t think he could do this much longer. How could they not realize how terrible this all was? He sighed. Onna sat a steaming mug of tea in front of him. She had remembered how he liked it. He smiled up at her.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She smiled back at him and continued to putter in the kitchen. He knew that soon enough they would be feasting. It was the only way Onna knew how to celebrate. He smiled then, thinking of all the good times they had shared. He looked at Ototo-shi and was not surprised that Ototo-shi was still staring at him. He slipped his hand from Okusama’s and went to where Ototo-shi sat in the corner. Ikasu imagined for a moment that he saw reflections of the after life in Ototo-shi’s eyes. He wondered then if all of him had returned and how willing it had been. He’d assumed that Ototo-shi had been warned of the things coming, as he himself had been warned, but now he wondered if that were really the case.
Ikasu gently laid his hand over Ototo-shi’s, “Ototo-shi.”

Ototo-shi gave him a small flicker of a smile, but said nothing.

“Will he stay that way?” asked Onna.

“Hush,” Okusama said.

“It’s alright,” Ikasu said. He turned to them and answered, “I don’t know.”

Onna paused, looking at him a moment and then began serving plates of heaped food.

“At least the plague has left him,” Onna said.

They looked at their plates in silence, the celebration had left them. It left the room feeling stale. They all kept looking at Ototo-shi who sat in front of his plate without seeming to notice its existence. They all wondered what death had done to him. If he ever spoke again, would he sound the same? Would he ever flash them his wicked smile or snap a quick wink? Or had he risen merely to live as an empty corpse?

They ate, but it no longer seemed like a feast. Every bite of food they took and Ototo-shi didn’t, reminded them of how wrong things continued to be. They wouldn’t be able to ignore or hide it for long.

When the meal was finished, Ikasu moved from the table and knelt on a small prayer mat in the corner. He knew he would have to leave this place again soon and he knew that he wouldn’t see these people again. He wept quietly, wishing he could reveal the things to come to those he loved the most. But he knew that they wouldn’t understand and that they would try to stop him. How could he blame them? Part of them wished they would beg him to stay… wished that he could stay…

“I have to leave,” Ikasu said.

They were quiet a moment, but then Onna spoke, “You’re not planning on coming back, are you?”

“No, I won’t be back,” he answered.

He could give them that much, they deserved more…

Okusama took him by the shoulders and bade him to rise. He did. He followed her to the kitchen table again and sat when she pulled the chair out for him. She removed his sandals. Onna, knowing what Okusama wanted without them speaking, handed Okusama a bowl of warm water. Okusama gently rinsed his feet. The water quickly turned dark with the dust of the road. She then pulled a vial of oil from the folds of her robe and poured onto his feet. She rubbed it into his skin, massaging deeply. The oil and her hands felt impossibly cold. It was refreshing in the oppressive heat. She wiped his feet with her hair. She then replaced his sandals after they too had been washed.

Ototo-shi was weeping.

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