A/N: ZareEraz here! I just gotta say, I am floored by all the little moments in this show. They are powerful and poignant and deeply moving. This little fic was inspired by the scene where a young Kikuhiko has to say goodbye to Ochiyo-chan, the shamisen player he helped at the theater, right before WWII began. I found their exchange to be deeply insightful for the way Yakumo tells the story of the show because truly, he has not forgotten. Enjoy this little story and let me know what you think.
Don't Forget Me
I have had the distinct displeasure in my life of living for too many years.
"Now, why would you say that?" You might ask me. "Isn't living a long life ideal? Don't you enjoy the years you have?"
I guess I should rephrase myself: I have had the distinct displeasure in my life of living longer than many of the lives I've had the honor to know.
Except Matsuda-san, whom I think won't ever let himself die as long as I live.
The younger generation will eventually come to know my pain as well, including my stubborn Konatsu and my silly Yotaro. And this pain I speak of? Do you want to know what its name is? The name of this pain that digs itself into the heart and settles in my old bones is none other than Sukeroku. It is also called Miyokichi and Yakumo. It is called Shin and Bon and Yurie and Ochiyo, the mistress Tomi, the old masters and every other name of every other person who has passed on before me.
"Who are these people?" You might ask. You might just be wondering if my mind is just wandering through the past years like old men's minds tend to do, but I assure you that I am in control of my faculties. I remember their names and faces all too well.
Ochiyo-chan is the pain of first love, and losing that love to war and sadness.
Tomi is the pain of devotion to one's husband even if he does some foolish things, the matriarch of a household of tradition, as the Mistress was.
The old masters of rakugo who are lost to the children of today are the pain of lost traditions and morals.
Yakumo is the pain of not measuring up the way one hopes, the bitterness between rivals and eventually, the heavy mantle of responsibility borne with grace.
Bon is the pain of suffering under one's inability to find peace.
Shin is the pain of being abandoned and fighting for one's place in the world when you have nothing to go back to.
Yurie is the pain of not being known.
Miyokichi is the pain of rejection, of bitterness and revenge.
Sukeroku is the pain of friendship, of finding someone who truly understands you and then the bitter-sweetness of voluntarily losing the one who knew your heart.
All of these pains have festered in my soul for so long that I have grown accustomed to their ache and take comfort in their presence. But there is another pain that still pricks like a new wound, each and every day I continue to live. This pain's name is Kikuhiko, the pain of finding one's self alone but at the same time surrounded by a loving family. It is the pain, and true joy, of living.
But even through all this pain and anguish I feel at having outlived everyone I used to know, a few, heartfelt words stay with me. They are the words of the first girl I ever loved. Sweet, honest Ochiyo-chan graced me with this request as we said our goodbyes by the river, before the war had torn us apart from one another. She simply said this: Even though this might be goodbye, please, don't forget me.
And I have kept that request all these long years. I have not forgotten, nor will I ever forget. It is the least I can do for those who could not stay with me.
"So that's what you were talking about?" You say. "That's why living so long is a displeasure to you?" I smile at you inquiries, amused in my own way.
"Yes, but not to worry." I answer softly. "You too, will someday come to understand this pain. But I implore you not to forget, because forgetting…forgetting would be the greatest suffering of all."
End.