Chapter 18: Funeral pyre
Shirai was a portly fellow, and on the tad side of short. Though shunned by the pretty people of the world, Shirai held no contempt in his heart. He was content in life, unlike his friend Haitani, who always wanted to be more than he was and have more than he had.
The one thing Shirai desired was to be a good friend – loyalty meant a great deal to him. It was his father's way and it had become Shirai's. He was guided by the same words that had molded his father: "I am my brother's keeper." His father, a patrolman, died in the line of duty protecting his partner. As a boy, he knew those words came from the Christian Bible, but did not understand its true meaning until he stood in front of his father's grave. Holding tight to his mother's hand, his final words to his father was his vow to keep: "Yes Father, I am my brother's keeper."
So when Keitaro was clinging to life, Shirai wanted justice for his friend. He had no martial arts training and held no delusions that he could win a fight against the famed strength of Motoko Aoyama. However, Shirai was Keitaro's keeper and could not let his suffering go unanswered.
Three days after the incident, Shirai found himself in front of Motoko's hospital room. He had heard of Motoko's attempted suicide. It did not matter. She deserved death and he would deliver, but something inside him stayed his hand. Haruka found him, standing in front of Motoko's door. She could tell by the tension gripping his body that a fierce debate of the conscience was being waged within him. It was the same conflict that she struggled with.
Haruka reached out to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His eyes blazed open, meeting her gaze with an intensity that resonated with Haruka's own turbulent emotions. Nothing was said between the two, but through their eyes, an emotional connection was formed. Shirai released a single tear; his visage remained encased in stone. In his expression, she could see the same feeling of helplessness that haunted her – the same tortured feeling of letting down a loved one.
Haruka felt her defenses cracking as she peered into his soul. His pain mirrored her own, forcing her to feel the inner anguish wanting to break free. The tears that she had so arduously pushed back began to flow. She started to crumble, her knees buckling. Shirai reacted out of instinct and embraced her, propping her up. She broke down in his arms, letting loose the deluge of misery and suffering consuming her. They cried together, holding each other.
Shirai's desire for vengeance waned as Haruka's tears cleansed his heart of the hatred threatening to poison his soul. Haruka's despair lifted as she opened herself to the man she had always considered a boy. It was in this moment that the seeds of love were sown.
The memory of that day and the wild passion of that night as she took him in her bed with a fierceness that had earned her the nickname – lioness – flooded her fading consciousness.
Haruka knew she was dying. There was just too much blood loss, too much damage for her to be saved. There would be no last minute rescue or miracle. She was no Keitaro. "Soon my love," she whispered, "we'll be together." But she had one task left to her. With the last remnants of her considerable strength, she dragged her exhausted body up to her room on the second floor, leaving behind a gruesome trail of dark crimson. She grunted in pain, willing herself to live until she was done. Her breathing deteriorated into desperate gasps for air as she reached her desk. Her left arm was no longer following her commands, her body nearly broken. She screamed, breaking the stillness, "Not yet, god dammit!" With the last bit of her strength, she willed her right arm to reach underneath the desk and grabbed a small envelope taped underneath.
As her fingers closed on her prize, she collapsed unto the floor. Death was near. Haruka had just one more task left. She needed to warn Keitaro. Summoning up an impossible strength, Haruka dipped her finger into her lacerated mid-section, wincing at the pain, and drew three circles onto the floor next to her.
"Shirai," she said with her last breath, feeling the darkness taking hold.
"Hey there, Haruka, missed me," Shirai whispered into her ear. Haruka wanted to turn around, but Shirai had embraced her from behind, snuggling his face into the side of her neck. She let out a purr as his hands slowly found its way onto her heaving chest. "I love you Shirai, promise me you'll never leave me again," Haruka said in a demure voice. "Never again, my love, I'll be with you now and forever," Shirai replied, taking her lips with his own.
A shiver ran up Sakura's spine as she entered the tea shop. She called out, "Haruka, you here?" There was no reply. Terror gripped the young waitress as she saw the pool of blood on the floor. She wanted to scream, but saw the trail of blood leading to the back room. "Haruka," she yelled out again, this time in a desperate cry. She hurried to the back room, but found that the trail led upstairs into her apartment. Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, Sakura reminded herself of what Haruka would say in a situation like this: "Panic and people die. Keep calm and people live."
There were no pearls of wisdom for Sakura that could prepare her for the sight that befell her. She screamed as she saw Haruka's body lying in a pool of blood, her hand clutching tightly on something white.
It was the envelope that brought Sakura out of her sudden slide into madness. She recognized the embroidered envelope as something Haruka once showed her. The memory came to her in a flash. "If anything should happen to me, I want you read this letter, do you understand Sakura," Haruka told her friend and employee with a solemn voice.
Gathering her courage, Sakura walked over to Haruka's body. Taking a deep breath, she pried the letter from Haruka's hand. She shuddered at the touch. It felt cold – lifeless. Sakura's tears splashed down on Haruka's body. The fear was gone now, only the deep sense of loss remained for the young girl.
It was then that Sakura noticed the three circles drawn in Haruka's own blood right next to the body. Though not understanding the full importance of this clue, she knew that Haruka was trying to tell her something – something about her killer. Thoughts of the murderer reminded Sakura of the letter in her hand.
Hesitant at first, she eventually found the strength to tear open the envelope. In it, she found a letter and a key. Pocketing the key, she started to read out loud: "Sakura, if you are reading this letter, it means that what I have long feared has come to pass and that I am dead. You are my final hope for redemption Sakura. I am sorry to place such a heavy burden on your shoulders, but I have no other recourse. I can only hope that you will forgive me one day for the woe I may cause you. You see Sakura, if I am dead it means that my sins have been uncovered – the truth has been revealed."
Her murderer, according to Hakura, must have learned of the truth behind the Hinata fire and the supposed death of its former manger. "No, it can't be," said Sakura, her voice barely above audible. She reread the line, trying to grapple with the terrible truth – Keitaro was still alive. Sakura read on, learning of Motoko's role in the affair and of Haruka's decision to send him to America for an experimental treatment that could have killed him. Sakura was trembling, overwhelmed by the truth.
This letter – it was Haruka's final confession. She had deliberately taken Keitaro away from those who loved him through guile and manipulation. She burned down their home – the Hinata apartments – and with it, her family's legacy.
Haruka had accepted death as the penalty for her crimes, but did not want the same fate to befall Motoko and Keitaro. She wanted Sakura to save them, because the killing would not end with Haruka's death – she was sure of that.
The murderer would seek to end Motoko, and possilby Keitaro.
It was this revelation that filled Sakura with a sense of foreboding.
She read on: "Go directly to Motoko and tell her everything, but under no circumstances do you disclose anything else to anyone. Burn this letter Sakura. Do not even mention it in passing. Who ever came for me was someone close to Keitaro, which means it could be anyone. Trust no one Sakura."
Sakura wanted to collapse onto the floor and give in to her exhaustion. She wanted to shut down and be done with this whole sordid affair, but she would not. Hakura was more than her boss; she was her friend and mentor. Someone had taken Haruka's life, and she would not just let that pass. Turning the letter over, she read the careful instructions that Haruka left for her.
"In the storeroom, on the far wall, there's a metal box hidden in the drywall. Let the clown point the way."
"What the hell does that mean," Sakura thought to herself. She went to the storeroom, but could not see anything that resembled a clown. She feverishly scrutinized the room, trying to find the elusive marker. Pounding the wall in frustration, she was about to take a sledgehammer to it when she noticed a thin shaped shadow touching the wall. She turned around to see the source and found a cut-out picture of Kitsune in a bikini.
Kitsune had it made when she was working for Haruka, thinking it would increase sales. Sales increased, but so did the old geezer quotient. Haruka squashed the whole "marketing campaign" after only one day. Sakura eyed the cut-out, and noticed that Kitsune was pointing her finger at something. Her eyes traced the direction of Kitsune's finger, which led to a section of the wall that looked no different from the rest. It was only after she tapped the wall did she noticed the differences – it rang hollow. With a mighty punch, she broke a hole through the wall, revealing a large steel briefcase.
"Eureka," shouted Sakura as she pulled out the case and laid it on the table. Her eyes widen as she unlocked it with her key. Inside were stacks of U.S. dollars, fake Japanese passports for herself, Motoko, and Keitaro, another letter, and a gun. It was the gun that had knocked the wind out of Sakura's lungs. Haruka had taught her how to use a variety of firearms, but thought it was nothing more Haruka trying to teach her a new hobby. Now she realized that Haruka was training her, preparing her for her current mission. Sakura chuckled to herself. Even from the grave, Haruka still surprised the hell out of her.
Breathing in slowly, Sakura closed the briefcase and walked to the phone. She first called a travel agent to arrange the quickest flight to America. Then she called for a taxi. "Come quickly please, I have a flight to catch," Sakura uttered into the phone. When the taxi arrived, Sakura locked the door to the Hinata Tea House and walked away. She took one final glance at her second home, knowing that it would be the last time she would ever lay eyes on it.
As the taxi sped along the highway, the driver spied through his rear view mirror a pillar of smoke rising from Hinata Springs. "I wonder where that smoke is coming from," inquired the old man driving the taxi. "I guess something's on fire," Sakura replied, looking at the passing scenery.
The inferno raged throughout the teashop, setting everything ablaze. Upstairs in the bedroom, lay Haruka on her bed, covered in a white sheet. In her right hand was the picture of her and Shirai, kissing under the cherry trees during their only New Year's celebration together.
In Haruka's other hand was the letter, where the last line of her instructions read: "Burn it all."