Mirror and Image
It's been a very long week. I don't know how I survived it. No, I do know how I survived, but I also know it's not over yet. It will probably never be over.
Let me start from the beginning. A week ago, I stepped into my house for the first time in almost a month. I'd been gone helping five boys fight a war. After the final battle, everyone was exhausted and weary. I offered to let them stay at my house till they were able to go back home to their families. As it turned out, that was the best call I could have made. They've been spending more time just sleeping than anything else. They were only awake for about three or four hours a day. Except for Ryo. He's usually awake long enough to eat something before going back to sleep. They've been getting better during the week, but they still sleep almost constantly.
So even though I had five boys in my house, I was essentially by myself in that huge house. It felt so strange. I couldn't pinpoint it at first. I'd walk into the kitchen and, for some, reason be surprised that no one was there. Or I'd be eating dinner with whoever was awake and feel like I was missing someone. It bothered me more and more until I decided I would clean house. Then I walked into my grandfather's room.
I was so glad nobody was awake.
For the first time since I watched him die in my arms, I realized my grandfather was dead. Ever since he died, trying to tell me the vital bit of information needed to find the four boys who'd be scattered, I'd been avoiding my grief. "I'm too busy to grieve," I fooled myself into believing. I was helping the warriors who were passed out in the guest rooms get ready to defeat the ultimate evil. I was traveling all over Japan and trying to stay alive in deserted Tokyo. I was running from soldiers and taking care of a lost child. I didn't have time to think about whatever grief I had inside of me. So I locked it up and buried it deep inside of me.
Returning to my home opened the locks. Entering my grandfather's room opened the door.
I cried for the remainder of the afternoon, very grateful that none of the boys woke up. That's how I started. I'll keep grieving for the rest of my life. Grief is not something that one goes through and then forgets about. No, I stand corrected. Grief goes away. The mourning does not. When you picture a loss, you see only the grief. The crying eyes, the sleepless nights. But mourning lasts forever. I'm starting to see that now. It's walking into a room and still half expecting that person you lost to be there, reading a book or working on the computer. It's having breakfast in a kitchen that suddenly seems massive and cold. It's looking at a picture and remembering yet again that you'll never see him again. God, I hate this.
It was the next morning when everything was brought to the forefront. The doorbell rang. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I'd been trying so hard to keep the house quiet so that the boys wouldn't wake up, the sudden noise startled me.
I almost didn't answer it. I remember I was sitting in the oversized chair in the sitting room, wishing for all the world that the world would just go away. But whoever it was was persistent. Slowly, reluctantly, I got up out of the chair. My steps hurried when I realized that the noise might wake the boys up.
When I opened the door, there were two young men there. They looked vaguely familiar, and I soon placed them at the University.
"Ah! Onee-san," the one in front said. The students often called me big sister, because I was always with my grandfather and helping them out. The bright smile on the young man vanished when he got a good look at me. "Onee-san, are you okay?"
"I, uh, I didn't sleep well, last night." That was the understatement of the year. I'd spent all the night crying until there weren't anymore tears left. Just when I thought I could get to sleep, I'd start crying again and the process repeated itself.
"I'm sorry," the student said. "I hope you feel better. Is sensei at home? He hasn't been on campus for the last few days, so we thought we'd drop by and see if everything's okay."
I couldn't help it. The tears were already sliding down his face. "I'm sorry," I said, wiping my cheeks and trying to hold back. "My grandfather is. . . is. . . dead."
Both students looked flabbergasted as their jaws dropped to the front step.
"What?" The student asked, his face paling. "How?"
I thank my grandfather for still looking out for me. My brain started to function. How could I tell them how he died? Nobody remembered the war. They wouldn't understand that he died almost a month previously. As far as they knew, he merely hadn't shown up at campus for a few days. I needed some sort of story that people would believe.
"You know how one of the buildings on campus collapsed?" I asked, hoping I could put a little truth in the fiction I needed to create. When they both nodded, I thought it best to let their own imagination to take it from there.
The student who had been quiet came over and gave me a hug. Normally I wouldn't like such a familiar gesture, but at that point, I didn't care. My tears were freely flowing. "When is the service?" he asked quietly.
My eyes widened. Of course my grandfather would need a funeral. And I was going to have to plan it. No, wait. This was Japan; they didn't have wakes or funerals. They had memorial services. A picture is provided and friends and family say their goodbyes and offer their condolences. Family? Oh god, I realized. My parent's don't even know yet that he's gone. How do I tell them?
My strength drained from me when I realized that. I almost fell over. The two students caught me, though, and helped me inside. One of them got me tea, I think. When I finally came back to my senses, I looked to the two boys.
"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I haven't really thought that far ahead. I..." I couldn't think of anything more to say.
"It's okay, Onee-san," one of them said. "I lost my father a little while ago, I know what it's like." He knelt down by me and took my hand. "If you want, Aitarou and I can make the memorial arrangements."
I looked at him. Actually, I stared at him. "I'm sorry, you're name was...?"
"Michinobu. Akihabara Michinobu. He's Odaiba Aitarou." Michinobu was tall, as I looked dumbly at him. He rubbed my hands in his and I realized he had very soft skin. His eyes were a clear green, very bright and intelligent, even through his glasses.
I find myself smiling despite myself. "No, no. I don't think that will be necessary. This is something I should do. Thank you for your kindness."
"Are you sure?" the broad shouldered Aitarou asked. "We can take care of it if you can't handle it."
I stared at him for a moment; then I stood up, straightening myself. I remembered that I still had five slumbering boys that could come down at any moment and a large white tiger on the premises. I also knew that this was my problem. I saw my grandfather die. He passed away in my arms. He left his research to me. I would handle the service.
"I thank you for the offer," I said. My voice was far shakier than I wanted, but I steadied it. "I will handle my grandfather's service. If you don't mind, Michinobu-san, Aitarou-san, I would prefer to be alone right now." My voice cracked at the end. The two nodded and left without me showing them to the door.
Once they were gone I pulled a chair over to the phone in the kitchen and picked it up. The first number I called was to France.
Needless to say, my father was very upset. I'd never heard him cry until that day. My mother also didn't take it very well, I could hear her balling in the background until she picked up the extension. The three of us talked all afternoon. Finally, my father said that I shouldn't be running up the phone bill.
Once that was out of the way, I called several places to prepare the service. The hardest part, however, was getting the death certificate, since there was no body. It took quite a lot of fast talking through my tears, but I think my grandfather was looking out over me again. I arranged for the service to be held at the university instead of my home. Since there would likely be a large number of people visiting, and I had some guests and a tiger that couldn't be a part of it, it seemed the best answer. The university was actually quite helpful. They even stated that I wouldn't have to pay for the rental of one of their halls to hold the service and they would take care of most of the details for me.
That took me well into the evening, so when one of the boys came down for food, he was rather surprised that I didn't have anything ready. I also must have looked awful.
"Are you okay?" he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Yes," I replied, putting a false smile on my face. "I just didn't get much sleep last night." Well that was the truth. I probably should have mentioned about my grandfather, but after my short but intense month with these five, I've gotten to know them pretty well. They all have incredibly large guilt complexes. Particularly Ryo and he already felt partly responsible for my grandfather's death. If I told one of them, Ryo would find out in his small waking moments, and then I'd have a handful. I could handle the situation for the moment. Until these five warriors who sacrificed so much have had time to distance themselves from their ordeal. I thought they'd be able to handle it until then.
I got up and fixed a sandwich for him. He probably suspected that something more was going on, but he quietly ate and then went upstairs to take a nice bath before going to bed.
The second night was even worse than the first. The finality of the planning the service really hit me hard. I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't cry. I spend the night walking the house, trying to at least get tired enough to rest. But my body was too wired and my mind was too weary. With sudden clarity I realized that there would be many nights like this in the near future. I let out a muffled cry of frustration and pounded my feet as I walked in an attempt to vent my sudden irrational anger.
Another of the boys came down, whether because he was already up or my pounding woke him, I don't know. But he wandered down the stairs and walked in on me as I let out another grunt of frustration.
"Hey," he asked. "Are you okay?"
I stared at him, not expecting to see one of the five. My mind froze.
"It's two in the morning," he continued. "You're usually sound asleep at this hour."
Something clicked in my mind and I tried to smile. "Nothing to worry you about. I just realized today that I have some plans that need to be taken care of. I wasn't expecting it."
"Something big enough to keep you up at all hours?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. "And it's nothing for me to worry about?"
"I'm just wired," I continued in vain. "These are big plans." Memorial services usually are. "I'm just nervous with anticipation."
He frowned, looking at me intently with those infuriatingly intelligent eyes. I wanted and wished desperately that he would go back upstairs and back to sleep. If he stared at me a moment longer, I felt that I would break down right in front of him. The last thing I wanted to do was let them know what I was going through. They didn't need that kind of stress. Not after everything THEY went through.
I think he must have took a hint, because he finally shrugged. "Fine, I guess. If you say so." He turned and made his was back to the stairs. Just as he was about to leave the room, though, he turned. "You know, if there's anything you want to tell us, you can."
Then he turned and went back upstairs to bed. I had a cup of tea before following the example and getting a few hours of well-needed sleep. I awoke much later than I had originally intended to, but then, that was at least understandable. However, I woke up to an odd smell in the house. It smelled like food. Being cooked. By someone other than me. I threw off my sheets, grabbed a robe, and hurried downstairs. Sure enough, one of the boys was cooking. A nice traditional Japanese breakfast. Fish, rice, and soup. It smelled almost as good as what my grandfather would cook.
"Ah, there you are," he said, already dishing out two plates of breakfast. "I noticed that you were sleeping in this morning, so I thought I'd cook for you for a change."
How considerate of him. He always is.
"Thank you," I muttered, sitting down at the table.
"How are you today?" he asked. That was a loaded question. My grandfather's service was to be in two days from that point. It didn't take a genius to figure out how I was.
I sighed. "I've been better," I replied. "I haven't been getting much sleep." I considered for a long moment on whether or not I should tell him about my grandfather. I needed someone to talk to about it, but I wasn't sure if talking to people who never met him was a good idea or not. Besides, I wasn't sure if he'd stay awake or not. Even while we were eating, I saw his eyes drooping.
I've been around college students ever since I came to be with my grandfather, so I've seen many sleep-deprived people. Everyone starts to nod off differently. I've seen some people close their eyes and pretend to be listening; some people yawn almost continuously; some people put their head in their hands. My grandfather and the young boy in front of my both had their eyes droop.
It was almost too much. I put down my chopsticks and put my face down into my hands. I didn't need that at the time. It took a lot of control to stop myself from crying. I was sick of tears dampening my cheek. I didn't want to cry anymore. I felt empty inside. Hollow and cold. There couldn't be any more tears left, but I always seemed to find more.
I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder in a friendly gesture and a chin come down onto my head.
"Hey," my cook asked. "What's wrong?"
I answered honestly. "I really don't want to talk about it right now."
"Alright," he replied. "But you do know that. . ."
"I can tell you guys anything," I finished for him.
"I see someone else has been stealing my lines."
I chuckled genuinely, reached up and patted his head. "You should be getting back to bed. I'd guess that you've probably spent most of your waking time just tossing and turning, so back to bed with you."
"Yes mother."
I laughed for the first time since we had come to my home. Laughing was exhilarating and I did feel better for it. I got dressed for the day. Since the service was in two days, I'd probably have to go out and find something to wear. Black usually isn't my color, and I needed something for the service. I already knew which picture I'd be bringing with me, and the university was taking care of most of the setup. I was ready.
As I put on my shoes, yet another of my guests came down the stairs, yawning and looking like he had just woken up. Looking back, that was probably a gesture of how much he trusted me, since he isn't the type to let other people see him at any level other than perfect. If he had just gotten up, then he'd probably be awake for the rest of the day; a good six hours. The four were actually getting to the point where they could stay up for about half a day before crashing back to bed. Ryo was actually able to stay awake for a few hours, though he usually didn't leave his bed.
"Where are you off to?" he asked, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Shopping," I replied with a smile. A brief look of incomprehension crossed his face. From what I understand, he has trouble with members of the opposite sex. It stems from a very mean big sister, I believe. Somehow, laughing that morning had helped me brighten my mood a little bit. I was almost acting normal.
"Without your purse?" he asked, pointing to the offending object that was on the table down the hall.
Almost.
"I have been a little scatter-brained this week," I admitted, lowering my gaze to the floor.
He tossed me my purse, and I looked through it, making sure I had everything. Wallet, keys, makeup, grocery list. I groaned, pulling out the far-too-long list. I wasn't going to have any money left when I got back.
"Do you have everything?" he asked, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to comb it out of his face.
"Yes," I grumbled. "Would you mind taking care of everyone until I get back? It's going to take a while to get all this food."
"Sure thing," he replied, giving me a soft smile. "I think you have enough on your plate as it is."
I thanked him and hurried on my way. Looking back, I should have realized that he meant something else by that last sentence, but then, I was so tired and drained, and I'm not surprised I didn't pick up on it.
The day actually went well. It felt good to get out of the house and away from all the memories, even if it was only for a few hours. The sun was out and shining, something I was cursing when I got up but now I was enjoying it. The grocers had gotten to know my face after so many visits of stock piling food. They asked how my army of guests was and tried to find out just what I was doing with four teenage boys in my home. Some people will just never get their minds out of the gutter. But it was a refreshing change of thought, and I have to admit, I reveled in it a bit. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that I actually was starting to enjoy myself.
It didn't last forever, though. After I had emptied my wallet of almost all my yen, I looked at the list and saw the last thing on it.
"Formal kimono for a service."
I sat in the jeep and just sort of stared at it for a while. The depression swept over me again and I laid my head on the steering wheel. How in the world was I going to do this? How was I going to go to the literature hall and politely nod as people from all over the university came up to me and told me stories about my grandfather and reminded me how much I missed him. How was I going to keep it together through all that?
Sighing, I got out of the car. After making sure the groceries would be good for a few hours, I headed back to the subway station and toward downtown Tokyo. There are dozens of shops, and I think I must have browsed all of them looking for the right kimono. Grandfather was very well versed in the old ways. He hardly walked around the house in a hakama and gi, but he always made sure to dress appropriately on special occasions. It wasn't uncommon to see him decked out in his traditional finest for something as simple as a birthday party. I made sure the university knew that he would have wanted a traditional service, and I wanted to make sure I dressed the part.
I finally entered a small shop. I had been here before several times when I was younger. I learned how to put on a kimono in this shop. It should have been my first stop, but then, I was hardly in a good frame of mind to be that sensible.
Ueno-san was there, like she always was. She was small, but she grew as a person talked to her. She looked up to me and smiled.
"Ah, I've been expecting you."
"You heard, then?"
"I did. I'm so sorry." She left the counter and calmly wrapped her small arms around me. I tried, but I couldn't stop. I cried. She let me cry, bless her. She just held me in her small frame and let me get it all out. And I did.
When it was over, I felt better. For the first time, after I cried, I felt just the tiniest bit better. She smiled at me again, her eyes warm. "Now, let's find you a pretty kimono."
Ueno-san's shop was small, but there was a wealth of material there. As far as I'm concerned, she had the finest choice of all the private and public shops in Japan. Each pattern held a story; each obi had a feeling of magic. I loved wandering through the shop when I was a child while my grandfather bought his ceremonial clothes. Those were happy memories, and I found myself smiling despite myself. A dark navy blue material-- almost black-- caught my eye. I immediately moved over to it and pulled out the kimono.
It was a magnificent design. Newer than some of the more traditional patterns. It was a stylized moon rising over a white outlined horizon. No stars, just the moon. Somehow, it matched my emotional state perfectly. The sun had set on my grandfather's life, and the moon was rising on my period of grief. The navy blue of my sadness and the stark white of the moon, my grandfather's spirit. The simple hilly horizon of the future I had chosen. The kimono almost seemed made for me.
Ueno-san smiled again. "That is an excellent choice. I knew you would pick it."
Not long after that I was taking the wrapped parcel home along with the groceries. When I came in the door, the house was quiet, which was unusual. Usually, someone was up. I'd been lucky so far that my crying fits had been one everyone was asleep, but by this time of day, two or three of my guests were usually up. I raised an eyebrow and dropped off my purse and parcel on the hall table. Peeking into the living room, I saw a pair of feet hanging off the edge of the sofa. Evidently I had been gone more than six hours, since the one who had seen me of this morning was snoozing on the soft white material.
I couldn't help but smile to myself. It was unusual seeing these warriors looking so angelic in their sleep. Especially after watching them fight so fiercely. I slid the blanket off the top of the sofa and laid it out over him. I went back into the hall and grabbed my kimono and purse, heading up the stairs and into my room. Once there, I noticed that I must have left one of the windows open, since I had a nice breeze filtering into my room. I walked over to the window and noticed some movement down in the yard below.
"Oh!"
Given how much they were sleeping, the last thing I expected was to see two of them awake and training outside. One of them saw me and they both waved hello.
"Welcome back!" one of them called.
"We just got up an hour ago. Anything we can do to help?" Given that one of them had a sweet tooth and one of them just loved food, I wasn't sure if having them help me bring in the groceries was a good idea, but there was a lot of food I needed to bring in. I hesitated in asking them for a moment before something big and furry bumped into my leg. The tiger of the house was getting me, which meant that Ryo was awake. I needed to start cooking while he was still conscious.
"Can I trust the two of you to help me bring in the food?"
Neither replied but instead, raced each other through the yard to go around to the jeep. Oh well. I thought I'd probably go food shopping again tomorrow. I rubbed the stripped head at my waist and headed down the hall to see how Ryo was doing. The oversized cat followed me, though he stared at my parcel on the bed. I felt I didn't have to worry about any of my guests going into my room. Generally speaking, fourteen-year-old boys find a girls room as some sort of sacred domain that they can't enter.
The unspoken leader of the army of guests I had was sitting up in bed and stretching.
"Hey," he greeted, running a hand through his overly sleep-tossed hair. "How's it going?"
"Quiet," I said easily. "You five sleep so much I hardly notice you're here."
He smiled sheepishly, and I noticed that he was finally fully awake. A part of me breathed a big sigh of relief. Whenever he was awake previously, his eyes had always been far away, as if he were still on some distant dreamscape. Now he looked fully alert. The tiger padded his way over, nuzzling his head against Ryo warmly.
"Did you just get in?" he asked, eyeing the purse that was still in my hands.
"Yes, I did. The boys are taking care of the groceries right now. The ones who are awake, anyway." I grinned.
"I can help," he said, starting to get out of bed.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah, I really feel awake today." Suddenly he grinned again. "Of course, that will probably change in a couple of hours, but I'll live it up while I can."
I smirked despite myself, and my mood seemed to lift. Ryo followed me downstairs to the kitchen were the other two were fighting as to who would eat the cake I had bought on a whim. Sugar-craver versus bottomless-pit. It proved to be an interesting match. Ryo and I put away the groceries while they duked it out, and I deftly dodged them to make a small mountain of sandwiches. Snatching one for myself, I sat down and enjoyed the show. The last two boys filtered in from the living room and upstairs, and soon all five of them were eating and talking lively.
"Hey," I pointed out. "I think this is the first time you've all been awake at the same time."
Everyone paused from their conversations and stared.
"Hey, you're right."
"Woah, it's been forever since that happened."
"Accurate as always."
"Hey! You shut up! Unless you want to take this outside."
"Why would I need to? You'd loose horribly."
"Ha! As if!"
One of them eyed me while he nibbled at his sandwich. He slid closer to me and asked in low tones, "Are you feeling better?"
I blinked, not expecting the question. "Yes, I'm fine."
"You look more rested, but you're still pale. Do you want to go take a nap?"
"No, I'm fine. Better than I have been for a few days." It was the truth. Watching the five of them playing around like normal fourteen year olds was the most welcome change of pace, the same as my going out. They were going to be alright. They still had a ways to go, but the five of them were starting to heal. They were starting to work through it. It was the same with me, I realized. My getting out of the house and being with Ueno-san had helped me. The afternoon antics were helping me even more. There was good news coming my way. I could almost see it.
"Hey," Ryo said suddenly. "What was that package in your room?"
Everyone stopped and stared at the tiger eyed boy.
"Ryo! What were you doing in a girl's room? I got two little sisters, and they kick my butt when I go into their rooms."
"Peeping?" one of them asked. He flashed a grin to those that gaped at him.
"Nothing like that!" Ryo said in a vain attempt to defend himself. He spread his hands up and sunk further into his chair. "The door was open, and I glanced in when I walked by! That's all, I swear!"
"Suuuuuuuuuuuuure you were."
"I swear!"
"Come on! What else did you see? Panties?"
"Excuse me," I ahemed. "You seem to forget that the girl in question is still present in the room." I turned to Ryo. "It's a kimono I bought," I replied simply. Hopefully the matter was not left open to discussion.
"A kimono? I didn't see you as the traditional type."
"Yeah. You have some sort of shindig you're going to?"
I smiled downright evilly. "How many of you have sisters?"
Three hands slowly rose.
"Do they love to go shopping?"
The three nodded and lowered their heads.
"And do they buy something just because they have an event they're going to?"
Those lowered heads seemed to be blushing.
"Or do they buy something because it looks nice on them?"
The two remaining started to laugh.
"Now, what would your sister's say about you commenting on their wardrobe?"
Laughter increase.
"And what would they, or any other decent girl, say about you assuming that an innocent glance was more sinister?"
One stopped laughing while the other three chuckled.
"Now then, is this matter closed?"
"Yes, mother," Ryo mumbled through his laughter, making everyone else roar.
The rest of the afternoon was fun with a lot of laughter and teasing. It didn't last long though. As the evening fell, so did my guests. One by one they went upstairs to go back to bed for another long sleeping spell. From the looks of things, at least the four of them would be back to a normal sleeping cycle within a few days. Ryo would probably take another week, but they were all progressing.
Once they were all tucked away in bed, I went back downstairs to have a small dinner and clean up their mess. I must say, I was beginning to wonder if having five teenage boys in your home is practice for being a housewife. Not even my grandfather was as messy as five boys are. Well, some boys are messier than others. Still, it was a good distraction. The afternoon had been wonderful and cleaning up after them was almost like an extension of it, even if it was work.
I actually went to bed smiling and I got a good night's sleep for the first time for the entire week. The following day proved to be actually fun. The boys were awake for a good portion of the day. Ryo didn't wake till we were all having lunch. After that, we all went to the back yard. Ryo was still a little shaky if on his legs for too long, so he sat on the lawn while I took the porch and we watched the other four train. If you could call that "training" though. It was more like mock sparring that usually degraded to teasing, laughing, and rolling around in the grass. It was nice to actually spend most of the day crying from laughing than crying from grief and mourning.
The next morning was somber. I woke up at six to avoid running into anyone waking up. I dressed in the new kimono quickly, and ran a brush through my hair. I paused, uncertain what to do with it, before I decided to pull it into a looped tail. Breakfast was quick, light, and quite. I left a quick note on the fridge to tell the boys that I would be gone for most of the day, and I was off.
I hate kimonos. They look beautiful on you, but you can hardly take a decent stride. But I gritted my teeth and walked as quickly as I could to the jeep. The drive itself was forty five minutes, and I found myself again thinking about my grandfather. The drive was familiar, I had taken it often enough with him. Those were good days. I remembered when I'd first seen him in years. God, it was just over a year ago. I wanted to go to college in Japan. I'd always spent my holidays there with my parents and my grandfather, and he would always show me the sights and keep me entertained. When I wrote him and told him that I, too, was interested in romantic literature, he was thrilled. I got off the plane and he all but flew over to me.
He introduced me to everyone at the university, and it wasn't long before I was considered almost his partner. Grandfather was a strict taskmaster, but his love for the material made it all worth it. He had a keen knowledge and a quick mind for making connections. He hands down had created the largest database in the Tokyo Prefecture on literature. After I showed him how to use a computer and made a simple program for him, he spent four entire weekends locked in his room inputting his data.
We made a good team, actually. I made things much easier for him by digitizing his work and keeping it organized--something he was never good at. He in the meantime was a gentle teacher and strict in his expectations. We fed off each other.
But I digress.
There were a lot of memories that I relived on that drive. But strangely, I didn't cry. If anything, I felt almost happy. Those were good memories.
When I pulled into the university, I saw that there were a lot of cars. I had the hardest time trying to find a parking spot. The service was being held at Gamera Hall, clear on the other side of the campus. Irritation surfaced during the walk, but I quickly squashed it down.
Professor Shinjuku saw me first.
"There you are!" he called out. I noticed that he was also decked out in traditional Japanese garb. He wore a deep red haori over his hakama and gi, and his hair was neatly combed back. It was the first time, I think, that I ever saw him cleaned up. He fit the stereotype of the "absent-minded" professor. Usually unkempt-looking, liable to forget what he was talking about while in the middle of saying it. He didn't look a thing like it right now. He bowed low before me, took my arm and walked with me the remainder of the way to the service. He didn't say anything, but it wasn't necessary. Words generally weren't his specialty, but I understood his meaning.
Once in the hall, I took my place by my grandfather's picture. I sat down and prepared for several hours of greeting the people my grandfather knew. What was harder was that my parents couldn't book a flight to be there in time. I sat down and started to receive well wishers.
"Dear child," someone said. "You must miss Tokisaburou so much." I blinked in response. I'm not used to hearing my grandfather referred to by his full name. Most of the people I knew usually shortened his long name. As traditional as my grandfather could be, he understood that his name usually needed shortening. Looking up, I saw it was the president of the university. That explained the formality.
"I thank you, sir," I replied, bowing. "Thank you for all your help with this service." He bowed and turned and bowed to my grandfather's photo, clapping his hands in front of him in prayer. Once done paying his respects, he sat by my side. With him and professor Shinjuku on one side and the photo of my grandfather on the other, the service began as people took the spot in front of the black framed picture.
They paid their respects in many different ways. Some were crying, some were polite, some didn't even say a word.
During the service I realized something.
I wasn't depressed.
I was sad, but I wasn't depressed. There was a strength, pulsing from somewhere in my heart. It was faint, but strong enough to beat back the shear anguish I had been feeling up until that point. I accepted everyone's respects with some strange form of dignity. I surprised myself. I thought I would have been a wreck, but I wasn't. Some of the professors saw this. They asked me if I was really alright, if maybe I was burying my grief too deeply. But I found myself smiling at them. "I'm fine," I told them. "I'm going to be just fine. Everything is going to be fine."
It was true. Somewhere, on some level, I realized that it was true. I really WAS going to be fine. The pain would never disappear, but the agony would pass. Someday in the future I would learn to live with the ache. It would get better. It was beautiful, in a way. Not beautiful that makes you smile, but beautiful that makes feel lighter.
"Child, how are you?" The president and professor Shinjuku looked at me with concerned faces as they walked with me to the car. The service seemed to have flown by.
"I am better than you know," I replied. "I think the worst is over. Things can only go up."
"If ever you need anything," the president said. "Please, let us know. Tokisaburou was the finest professor on this campus; and he was a personal friend."
"Thank you," was all I could say.
I drove home in decent spirits, despite the late hour. While I was hardly happy, I wasn't ready to cry at any minute. I truly was doing better, although I couldn't for the life of me say why. I didn't understand fully until I got home.
When I walked in the door and took off my geta, I was prepared to try and take a long hot bath and just go to bed. I wasn't prepared to see all five of my guests in the living room waiting for me, leaving the large cushiony arm chair open for me. They all turned as I came into the room. Ryo smiled from where he sat on the floor.
"How was the service?" he asked.
I was flabbergasted to say the least. My attempts to try and wait on telling them seemed to have been fruitless, but I looked back over my interactions with them over the past few days. I should have known I wasn't fooling them. But they had been considerate enough to not say anything given that I wasn't really ready to talk about it.
"It was quite nice," I finally answered, sitting in the large armchair. I pulled out my ponytail and let out a long sigh. "Given how long the service was, as you can imagine, there were a lot of people who wanted to pay their respects."
"But," one of them interrupted, "how about you?"
"I'm actually doing better than I thought I would be," I replied.
"But you just went to the service of your grandfather."
I smiled weakly. "But I've come to understand something over the past few days. While I will be mourning for the rest of my life, my grieving has stopped."
"How so?"
I ran a hand through my hair. "It's kinda hard to explain. Normally, when someone looses a loved one suddenly, like through violence, it's harder for them to come to terms with the loss." Ryo lowered his head. Thankfully, his tiger's tail found the boy's face. "But I think that I've slowly been dealing with my loss during the war. It must have been on a subconscious level."
"The human mind is incredibly resilient."
"I also have all of you to thank for my feeling better."
The five of them stared at me.
I smiled again. "I think that another reason why I've been able to handle today is the fact that I realized something. The five of you have lost something far more important to you. I lost my grandfather. But he was aging. I would have lost him eventually. You five have lost your innocence. You can't live the rest of your lives without looking over your shoulders and worrying about what's there, or might be there.
"My grandfather once said that we are all born with an innocence that people preserve through most of their lives. It is only when we are forced into battle and we shed blood, no matter what the reason, that the innocence is shattered. That innocence can never be restored." I looked out to them. "If I look at it in that way, since I knew I'd loose my grandfather one day, what I'm going through isn't that bad. Yes, I'll miss him. I'll mourn him for the rest of my life. But he'll always been with me. I have his research, I have my memories."
"You're grandfather must have been a very wise man."
"He was."
"What was he like? Most of us never met him."
I laughed. All of us talked well into the night, though Ryo nodded off after a few hours. He tried to stay with us though. I talked about my grandfather and shared stories of him with them. It felt good reliving all those good memories. Even some of the bad ones. I think by the end, they all felt like they knew my grandfather pretty well. In fact, we all ended up falling asleep in the living room.
My grandfather was right. Death is merely a temporary parting. I will meet him again one day. I will mourn his loss until then. But I have friends who will support me if I ever feel his loss particularly strong. Anyone who has lost someone close to them can keep that in mind. It may not lessen the pain of loss, but it can help from falling into a well of despair.