LOVE AND HONOR

JULY 21, 1974

YOSHI:

"What is... this called?" I asked with some hesitation. The words themselves, being in English, held little meaning for me. But I knew what kind of answer the sentence required.

Sakura looked up from her place on the living room floor, where she was quietly reading. "That is a turtle," she answered clearly. She looked back down to where another one of my four new pets were crawling onto the book she was reading, and began a hurried string of English that I did not understand much of. "This is... turtle... my..."

She looked up at me and laughed at what I assumed was a look of confusion. Then she picked the turtle up carefully by its shell. It ducked its head inside. "Yoshi-san, will you put this one with his brothers please?" she asked. "It is very difficult to concentrate when he seems intent on joining me."

I smiled and set down the turtle I was holding, taking the one she offered. "Go and play," I ordered gently, placing it with the others. "Books are not for turtles."

Sakura was watching me closely. I could feel her eyes on me, though my back was turned to her. "Does something trouble you, Sakura-chan?"

"Iie," she replied absently. "I am only thinking."

I turned to her, crossing my legs in front of me. One of the rats approached, and began rummaging through my pockets in search of food. I smiled, well aware of its presence, but allowed Sakura my full attention. "Of what are you thinking?" I asked.

She reclined slightly, her back against the tattered couch. "Only that you treat your pets as if they are human. I wonder if there is anything in this world that you do not treat with respect."

I paused for a moment, considering her words. "What reason have I to treat anything with disrespect?"

She did not answer for a long time. "You are so..." I raised an eyebrow as she searched for a word. "... courteous," she finally ended. "Yet you don't speak to me as one who is greatly cultured."

The rat swam through my pocket and back into my lap. It looked up at me, impatient with the barren pockets, and scurried away. I watched it go, then turned to Sakura. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, it is not in any way an insult," she justified. I nodded once to let her know that I understood that. "I mean only that you speak to me so... informally at times. You sometimes even remind me of Samuel, except that you treat me with respect. I have never heard such informal tones uttered in such a respectful way."

"Samuel?" I questioned.

"My American husband."

I smiled. "Do I seem influenced by a culture I know nothing of?"

She giggled slightly. "You are not an American, and would never be mistaken for one. But you sometimes speak as freely as though you were."

I considered that for a moment. "Does that bother you?"

"Oh, no. Not at all," she laughed. "It does seem strange, though."

I studied her, and smiled. "You, too, forsake tradition in search of knowledge."

She appeared confused. "What do you mean?"

"You ask questions, even when you speak out of place."

She blushed and hung her head. "I do," she admitted. "I sometimes fear Western culture has influenced me too much."

I shook my head slightly. "Not in my opinion."

"Is it not wrong then?" she pressed. "For a woman to challenge a man?"

I considered that. "It depends on the man, and the topic of discussion."

"I was always taught that such disrespect was strictly forbidden."

"Hai," I nodded. "I was taught the same thing. But you see, Sakura, respect can be lost. We respect our elders because they are more knowledgeable than ourselves. But I do not believe that every man is to be respected by a woman any more than I believe that every man older than myself is to be respected by me."

"You do not believe that?"

"A man ten years older than me may murder, and rape, and destroy. And such a man deserves nothing from me. How can one honor a man who is not honorable?"

"You should respect his position, if not him," she challenged me.

"How? To be polite and courteous? I would do such a thing for any man. But to heed his words, to seek his advice..." I shook my head. "That is not wisdom." She looked away. "So in what way would I respect him, Sakura? For it cannot be in the same manner that I would respect another of my elders."

She glanced back at me, and a smile crept across her face. "No one has ever talked like this with me before," she informed me.

I smiled back, but said nothing in reply. After a moment of silence, she raised herself to her knees and crawled across the few feet between us, coming to rest right in front of me. Her hands rested on my knees as she studied me. "You are an amazing person, Yoshi-san," she whispered.

The sudden nearness of her left me unable to respond. I felt something stir inside of me. Something that had lay dormant for decades, but suddenly resurfaced as I studied her. I only had a few seconds to do so before she leaned forward and brushed her lips against mine. A warmth that I had not known in years rushed through me, from my lips, down my spine, and to every fiber of my being. It pooled in my groin as my body remembered how to act and what to do. I parted my lips slightly, and welcomed her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She melted into me. Our bodies and souls came together, and inspected each other, both unsure of this trust that was so easily broken. She pulled away slowly, and we stared at each other.

"Do you love me, Yoshi?" she asked quietly. The words were said with no emotion. Her eyes pleaded for nothing more than the truth. And I knew that she deserved as much.

"Hai, Sakura," I whispered, running my fingers over her cheek. "Ai-shiteru."

SAKURA:

I was in love with him. The concept frightened me, but I knew I could not deny it. His words frightened me even more. Surely this was not wise. But my heart knew nothing of wisdom, and I was powerless against it. I turned away from him, and for a moment, it was silent.

"What is troubling you?" he whispered.

I sighed. "I know nothing about you, Yoshi; do you realize that?"

"What do you want to know?" he answered without hesitation.

I glanced at him. "Anything?"

He shrugged slightly. "Anything. Speak freely."

"How old are you?"

"Forty-three."

I cringed inwardly. He was more than a decade older than I. He looked so much younger. I would not have guessed him to be more than thirty-five. "Have you ever been married?" I questioned.

"Iie."

I studied him. "So you have no children, I assume?"

He set the cup down on the mat we were sitting on to eat. "I had a son," he explained. "But he was not my flesh and blood. He spent the first five years of his life on the streets of Tokyo, stealing to survive, before I found him."

"And you adopted him?"

"Hai."

I chuckled slightly. "That sounds exactly like something you would do."

He smiled. "Now let me ask you something." I nodded in approval. "How did you come to the United States?"

I sighed deeply, and my eyes dropped to the floor. "I married an American soldier," I whispered. "And in so doing, I was disowned by my family. We came to the United States and lived together for twelve years."

"That is a long time," he observed.

I nodded slightly. "It is," I agreed.

"He divorced you after that long time?"

I nodded again. "He... used to bring prostitutes to the house. And after twelve years, I finally... got angry at the fact that he treated them much better than he ever treated me. We fought and he divorced me."

He was silent for a long time. "I am sorry, Sakura," he finally whispered.

"It is no matter," I shrugged. "I was unhappy with him anyway."

He moved closer and pulled me to his chest. I rested my head on him, comforted by the closeness. "Why did you come here?" I asked, nuzzling against his neck.

"I have already told you that," he mumbled.

"Your life is in danger?"

"Hai."

"For what reason?" I questioned. "What did you do?"

He did not answer, and I pulled away from him to see his expression. It was cold and emotionless. "Did you kill a man?" I guessed.

He looked away. "It does not matter," he answered. "The reasons are many, but the outcome is the same. I cannot go back."

The tone of his voice was a warning, and I fell silent. His past was perhaps not a secret that would be easily discovered. And I knew that it was all the more fascinating to me because of it.