Hand in hand, we walked towards the exit of the shrine as Musashi explained her solution In a roundabout way, that is. "Commander," she began, "why do you eat MREs?"
"You know why," I answered darkly, my good mood rapidly evaporating.
She turned to face me with a patient smile. "Humor me."
As much as I would have liked to have changed the subject, walked away, or otherwise avoided the topic, she did put this entire trip together to help me and considering there was no one else around to overhear us, I reluctantly went along with her. "Because I don't trust anything I haven't personally prepared, seen prepared, or something that was vacuum-sealed months, if not years, ago."
Her smile grew. "And what if I told you there was a restaurant nearby that allows you to see your food being prepared from start to finish?"
I shot her an incredulous look. "I'd say that's an odd way to run a restaurant."
"It's actually quite common in the Sakura Empire," she countered. "We call it teppanyaki, and I think you'd enjoy it. If you're feeling up to it. If not, we can head back to the ship any time you wish."
To say I had conflicted feelings would be a gross understatement. I didn't want to cut this day short and head back to the ship so soon, but the thought of eating at a restaurant again had my heart pounding out of my chest. As I stood there, debating where I'd have my next meal, something nudged my hand. I lifted my hand as I turned to look at what had bumped into me and found myself looking at a small deer that was looking up at me. If I didn't know any better, I would have said it was looking at me as if it was expecting something from me. Unsure of what to do next, I glanced over at Musashi, who was watching me with an amused expression.
"It seems you've found a friend," she giggled. "Don't worry, you can pet him. The deer on this island are quite used to people."
"O-okay," I said as I tentatively reached out and placed my hand on the deer's head, petting it slowly. The animal pushed its head against my hand, eager for more contact. Slowly, I grew more confident until I was petting the deer the same way someone would affectionately pat their dog. "I'm surprised to see a deer this fond of people."
Musashi nodded as she slowly strode over to us, trailing her fingers gently down the deer's neck and back. "The deer have been protected by Sakura law for over a millennium, and as such, they know they are safe amongst the people here."
"All deer, or just the deer on this island?" I asked, looking up at her. "Is this part of the no-death rule?"
Her eyebrow raised slightly as she considered the question before she shook her head. "Not quite, although I suppose it would be seen as tainting the purity of this place regardless of the deers' status. The deer here were seen as messengers of the kami, and to kill a deer would be the same as assaulting a kami: a grave offense."
I nodded slowly and returned my attention to the deer, who seemed rather pleased with the attention it was getting. "First time I've ever seen a deer, any deer, up close before," I softly stated.
"You didn't have deer back home?"
"No, we do," I answered with a shake of my head. "I suppose I should say I've never seen a live deer this close before. Knew a few people back home who'd go deer hunting back where I grew up, so the deer didn't really get too close to people."
Musashi was quiet for a moment, still gently stroking the cervine, and I could tell she was processing what I'd just told her. "But you never went deer hunting yourself?"
"Nah," I casually replied. It was funny, the more I pet the deer, the more I felt like my old self again. "Never much saw the point in it. Nobody who went hunting kept the meat, so it wasn't for food. It was just for the thrill of the hunt, which I understand, but I feel like there are other ways to test your skill without resorting to ending something's life."
"An interesting point of view from a military officer," she mused. There wasn't any judgment in her voice, and I didn't think she meant anything by it, but I still felt the need to explain myself further.
"Look, I'm not averse to violence or bloodshed, but I feel it should be for the right reasons," I said defensively.
"An admirable viewpoint," she admitted. "So if you weren't out hunting, what did you do?"
"I was a theater kid." I smiled as my mind brought me back to my youth. "Loved every minute of it, especially the Shakespeare plays. That's where I-" Unbidden, the memory of her burst forth, her red hair flowing about her as she turned to face me, script in hand.
It felt like I'd just swallowed a mouthful of ash as Rose tainted yet another fond memory for me, and I grew angry as I realized that she had touched so much of my life, so many happy moments that her betrayal would forever mar. The anger continued to build up when I realized she'd also simultaneously ruined probably the best day I'd had since the incident.
"Paul."
Her voice was whisper quiet, yet it carried the force of a thunderbolt as it snapped me out of my spiral of despair and anger. I looked into those golden eyes of hers, eyes that held no judgment or disdain in them. "S-sorry," I weakly apologized and quickly broke eye contact. The deer was long gone as well, and I reflexively checked my hand to see if I had inadvertently pulled out any of its fur in my smoldering fury. Fortunately, I had not. I guess the deer simply got bored and wandered off of its own accord.
What Musashi said next was not what I expected to hear. "It's okay to be upset."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My whole life I'd been taught that being angry, and upset, was something to overcome, to tamp down or cast aside. And now here she was, telling me it was fine? My eyes looked up to meet her mercilessly reassuring gaze again, and she immediately saw the confusion.
Her smile was a sad one as she nodded slowly. I had heard right. "Something horrible happened to you, and you have every right to be upset about it. I don't know how long this will stay with you. Perhaps weeks, perhaps months, perhaps years, or even the rest of your life. But what I do know is that for as long as you are with me, you are safe. Safe from harm, and safe to let out your frustrations."
Hearing those words almost broke me. I think if we had been in a more private setting, it would have. While this isn't the first time she had told me I was safe, after being with her for so long, and seeing the lengths she'd gone to help, I could no longer deny the sincerity of her words. With a shaky smile, I nodded at her and looked away as I blinked back tears. "Thank you," I rasped, my voice choked off by emotions swelling up in me. I tried to say something else, but all I could get out was another, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she smiled as she took her hand in mine. I held on to her tightly the way a drowning man holds onto a lifeline, and in a way, she was. "Now, would you like to go have lunch out or head back to the ship?"
My decision had become much clearer now. I was sick and tired of living in a bubble, letting the specter of my marriage continue to dictate how I lived my life. I was tired, I was angry, and I was just…done. Spurred on by Musashi's words, and my newfound trust in her, I gestured down the street. "We'll do it your way. Lead on, Musashi."
Her smile was proud and comforting. "As you wish."
The small restaurant was a bustle of activity, the background hum of patrons engaged in quiet conversation a counterpoint to the clanking of spatulas and the sharp hiss of the flat top grill that dominated the center of the establishment. The grill itself had a countertop around it, much like a diner back home, so people could eat right where the food was being prepared if they wished. Knowing I would want to get a front-row seat to my meal, Musashi led us to a pair of seats located at the counter, and no sooner than I sat down did I realize there was a problem.
The menu was in Japanese, and I couldn't speak or read Japanese at all.
"Uh," I began, staring at the indecipherable characters.
"Don't worry," she giggled as the waitress approached, "I'll handle the orders. It's generally the same thing with minor differences."
"I guess I've got no choice but to leave it in your capable hands," I said with a slightly strained smile. Even though I trusted Musashi, I still wanted to see exactly what was in my meal. Guess I'd have to wait and watch it being made on the spot.
While she chatted with the waitress in Japanese, I focused on the chefs working the grill. As Musashi had said, you could see every step involved in the cooking process for this teppanyaki stuff which I found to be a huge relief. Even more so when I saw they were pulling ingredients from large containers, which means if one part was tainted or poisoned, everyone who ordered that dish would be affected. While that sounds grim, I was relatively certain the cult wasn't about to knock themselves out in large numbers just to strike at me again.
The waitress bowed to Musashi and handed the order slip over to one of the chefs, who immediately got to work ladling out two circles of some sort of batter. After spreading them out carefully, he set the batter aside, sprinkled some sort of powder over them, and began heaping a mountain of cabbage onto each one. Sensing my inevitable question, Musashi leaned over and quietly answered, "It'll cook down."
"Ah," I nodded as I continued to watch them work. I found it to be more than just reassuring from a security standpoint, but also fascinating in general to watch. After the cabbage, some bean sprouts were added to the pile, and finally a liberal sprinkling of green onions. Once all the vegetables had been added, he added what looked like pork belly or some very thick-cut bacon, seasoning it before he poured a little more batter over the top of it. With the mountain of food finally complete, he grabbed the spatulas and tucked each one underneath the dish on either side.
"Is he going to try and flip that entire thing?" I whispered to Musashi.
"Just watch," she replied.
In what I could only describe as a defiance of the laws of physics, he smoothly, slowly flipped over one teppanyaki, then the other, all while keeping most of it intact. A few errant strands of shredded cabbage escaped, but he quickly tucked them back underneath the crepe sitting on top before he shifted each to the side. In place of the teppanyaki, he added two batches of noodles, which he arranged into circles, along with some shrimp. Whilst he waited for the noodles to cook, he quickly seasoned the seafood before he peeled back the crepe on the teppanyaki, made a nest in the cabbage(which was now quickly shrinking, just as Musashi had predicted), and slipped them in before placing the crepe back on top.
By this point, the noodles had finished, and the chef deftly used the spatulas once more to set the teppanyaki down over the noodles and set each one aside. This time, he got a pair of eggs and cracked each one separately, making sure to break the yolk and form them into their own circles.
"That's…a lot of food they're adding," I quietly commented, much to Musashi's amusement.
"This is the last bit," she explained, the amusement evident in her voice. "This is what's in a traditional Hiroshima okonomiyaki."
I tore my gaze away from the food to look over at her. "I thought this was teppanyaki?"
"Teppanyaki is the style," she corrected, "This specific dish is okonomiyaki."
"Ah," I said, having felt foolish for mentally referring to it as such for the past few minutes. "Whatever it's called, it smells delicious!" The now-heavenly savory aroma that was coming off the grill had set my stomach to growling so much and so loudly it sounded like I had a pack of rabid wolves under my shirt, much to my embarrassment. Fortunately, nobody seemed to hear, or at least, pretended not to hear.
I turned my attention back to the chef, who had flipped the okonomiyaki back over again and was now brushing it with a thick sauce that looked something like barbeque sauce back home. Once he had glazed the entire surface, he began to use the spatulas to cut it into pieces, and I could sense his work was almost done.
Musashi's hand tapped my arm to get my attention, and I turned back to her. "There's something very important we need to do before we eat," she stated, "Once we get the food, we will put our hands together in prayer, and say 'Itadakimasu'."
I tried repeating that last word over and over in my head until I asked, "Ita-what was that word again?"
"Itadakimasu," she said slowly, emphasizing each syllable as she went, which I followed dutifully. I said it a few times over and over out loud until she nodded and smiled confidently. "You've got it."
"Is that like a prayer to the kami or something?"
Musashi seemed to give it some thought before she answered. "It can be. It's meant to show gratitude toward the cook, the server, the kami, or whatever god or gods you worship. Or all of the above."
I nodded slowly. "I see." With a soft clatter, the chef placed the now-complete okonomiyaki in front of each of us before he bowed and said something in Japanese. Both Musashi and I smiled and bowed politely in return, with Musashi saying, "Arigato" in return. That word I knew, at least.
Meal finally ready, I pressed my hands together in prayer, closed my eyes, and declared, "Itadakimasu," before I tucked into my food.
Maybe it was from eating hospital food or MREs for over a month straight, but that okonomiyaki tasted like mana from heaven. It was single-handedly the best thing I'd ever eaten in my life, the bitterness of the cabbage, the saltiness of the pork mixing with the subtle flavors of the shrimp, all coated in that unbelievable sauce.
Apparently, that enjoyment was plastered all over my face because Musashi asked, in a very amused tone, "Will you two need a moment alone together?"
My eyes flew open and my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I tried to first swallow the bite I was enjoying and then defend myself. "It…uh…it's been a while since I've had food this good."
"I surmised as much," she smirked. "I can't imagine those prepackaged things having a lot of flavor to them."
"Some do," I countered, "Just not as much as something that was freshly made."
She took another bite as she thought something over. After a sip of her tea, she asked, "Perhaps now would be a good time to revisit the meal situation onboard?"
I frowned, unhappy at having this settled argument brought back up, but I did give it serious thought as I savored the okonomiyaki. My biggest argument for MREs, a lack of trust, was now gone, and I found I had no other reasons against it. Assuming that this meal wasn't some elaborate trap, that would solidify my faith in her. And I would also presume that she would have been thorough regarding any sort of provisions brought aboard for a guest. There was just one question left. "Who'd be cooking?"
"I would," she answered proudly.
"Breakfast, lunch, and dinner?"
She confirmed with a smile and a nod.
"I can't ask you to do that," I sighed. "I know I'm a guest, but that's too much. How about a compromise? I cook a few meals a week to help you out."
The corners of her mouth turned down in a rare frown. "You are my guest, Commander, I couldn't ask you to-"
"I'm not asking, I'm offering," I interjected.
Her frown deepened before reversing course and turning into a cunning grin. "How about you help with a few meals a week? I still cook, but you can assist."
"If I'm only helping, I'd like to help every meal," I countered.
She gave it some thought before she nodded once and declared, "Deal."
"Deal," I repeated.
As the boat slowly headed back towards the Musashi, the ship still dwarfing even the imposing O-Torii, I cast one last look back at the shrine and the small town surrounding it. While there would be other shrines, none would ever have the same impact on me as Itsukushima. It gave me the peace that I desperately needed and cleared my mind enough to shore up the compartmentalization of my mind. It didn't feel like I was on a knife edge anymore, about to burst at the slightest inconvenience. It was such a relief, and I silently hoped that it would last for months, if not years. In reality, I only had a week before the peace would be shattered once more…
A/N-Well, the last two chapters were so nice, so peaceful. Wonder what could be coming down the pike to cause trouble? Until next time, fair winds and following seas!
