To My Sunflower - Chapter 82

Eiji rested his head on his arm, which was propped up against his side of the bus window. He started out to random pasteurized land and low growing forests that whizzed by. His mind replayed events of the night before, which had led him to his solitary bus ride towards Hiroshima City.

The day before he had sprinted from Tyne and the others. Running a distance through the wild growing forests in a random direction with Ren’s image plaguing his thoughts; continuously reviving brief moments of their rival archery matches and the drinking session at the inn with vividness.

He had killed in his country’s name. But the death of a civilian because of him, hurt. Especially when Ren was a good man. The image of his face, and knowledge of his life, made Eiji’s heart slow drastically. Monster. Traitor. He was not a man worthy for Hinata’s love.

“Hinata.”

Eiji raised his head and eased back into his chair, looking up to the bus’s curvaceous metal roof. He closed his eyes to play out more of the night before.

–

Despite his right arm inflamed with agony from heavy bruises he had received from stopping Kei’s impact to the windshield, he had pushed on through the chilling dense forest.

The air was thinner, but also heavy with an unnerving silence and overwhelming stench of musk. Yet there was barely activity amongst the bushes. The only animals during the waning evening were distant outlines of tanuki foraging about for food.

He was alone to suffer whatever karmic fate Okamisama deemed he should suffer.

So he kept running, stumbling, wandering and moving deeper into the forest.  Immersing himself into the depths of a pitch black ambience.

“I’m a monster.” His voice had spilled out to an unsympathetic darkness. Tears made crude streak marks down his dirt stained cheeks.

He cursed aloud when his run was stopped by a trip over a boulder.

He tumbled pitifully down a rocky slop to stop before a bigger rock crop.  When he was able to peel himself off the ground, he made out a shape from the rocks beneath the moonlight. The shape was a raised arm holding a spear towards the moon.  As he was able to define more of the shape, he realized the arm was connected to a statue of Bishamonten.

He gulped at the glaring frown and scowling lips from the carved face. So this was where he’d be judged before Okamisama, beneath the glaring image of Japan’s god of war.

“I’ll accept my punishment.” He cried, wishing his hands held a tantou blade.

Yet a tantou was for honourable men. He was not one of those, so it was fitting he didn’t.

“Young man?” A papery voice called out to him from Bishamonten’s image.

Eiji stiffened to the sound of the voice.

“Okamisama?” he whimpered.

Light flashed before his eyes, causing them to sting and blink madly.

“Oh dear.” The papery voice sighed with a tone of understanding.

Eiji felt his head lifted and water trickle into his open mouth.  The water’s taste was oddly tangy and sweet. Yet it was refreshing and invigorating, granting him a temporary relief from his pains.

“Are you able to stand young man?”

Eiji nodded and wobbled to his feet, shying away from the hands that wanted to assist him.

He was able to make a face to the voice. His heart raced at the sight of an elderly priest in a kimono and  umanori hakama with a straw utility belt supporting small pouches and a gourd.  His head was shaven like a Buddhist monk.  He held up the torch he was carrying to reveal more of his aged face, etched with many wisdom lines across his round forehead and sides of his wide mouth.

“Follow me.” He beckoned to Eiji with a weak, inviting smile.

Eiji bowed his head and followed the elderly priest’s sprightly trail down a path through the bush. It connected to a cleared moonstone footpath between god’s entrance, illuminated by lanterns hanging from tall stakes either side of the path.

He gazed up to the tall hashira poles and entrance face looming over him; absorbing the images of a hefty and stolid Bishamonten carved all over the surfaces. They depicted the god’s moments of rest amongst lotus flowers, conch shells or his majestic image mounted on a snow lion. His crown and body armour was covered with images of luxurious jewels. A reminder of the luck power the god of war and wealth could curse or bless on a man.

He felt sure Bishamonten would only grant him the foulest of luck for having an innocent man die.  There was no honourable reason to justify Ren’s death.

Eiji was led to the Temizuya stone basin to wash away his worldly filthy. Yet he felt no amount of shrine water could purify his soul for his wrong doings.

“Come.” The elderly priest bade Eiji when they finished their ablutions.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go further.” Eiji bowed with his apologies before the sight of the subduely lit pristine shrine the priest was beckoning him towards.

“Why?”

“I killed a man.” Eiji’s voice trembled. A rush of tears flowed from his bowed head.  “I’ve killed many men.”

The priest sighed. He observed Eiji’s bowed form for sometime before speaking again.

“You regret the deaths you caused.”

Eiji nodded.

“Are you a soldier?”

Eiji stiffened at the question.  His mind rushed with thoughts of rights and wrongs, the senjinkun code that ensured he could mentally fight for his country and the truths he tried to believe in to justify his betrayal.

“I see.” The priest sighed again.  “Still. Come. Only our god is the one to judge your doings.”

Eiji slowly rose and meekly followed the priest up the porch, removing his shoes to step into the causal room of the shrine.

The priest had him rest before a low table, where a young miko girl was called to attend to his arm with warm cloth dipped in healing water. He sat unresponsive to the care he was receiving, allowing her to clean his bare skin and place food before him.

He didn’t touch the food.

“Eat and wake up to another day.”

Eiji glanced to the simple arrangement of rice and dried fish. It was god’s food. He wasn’t worthy to touch it.

“There’s a story of how a starving man prayed to Bishamonten for help. Soon after, a woman paid him a visit…” The priest began to tell a tale.

Eiji listened absent-mindedly to the priest’s retelling of a fable about the Starving Man.

The starving man was given a bowl of rice as an answer to his prayers. The rice would be replenished in the bowl whenever he ate some of the rice. After a while the rice bowl stopped refilling and the bowl sat empty. When he prayed again, he was visited by the woman who was actually Bishamonten. He was given a task to deliver a letter to a person who turned out to be an ogre. The man received a bag of rice as payment for the delivery. Like the bowl, the rice bag continuously replenished. Soon a local governor came to know about the rice bag and demanded custody of it. Not wanting to go against the local authority, the man handed it over.  The bag stopped replenishing as soon as it had left the man’s hands. It was returned to him, where the powers of the bags abundance was restored.

“There are times we’re starving men for various reasons. If we ask, we are given the abundance we need to survive. Other people lacking fulfilment lust after other’s wealth. Their greed causes a starving man to be starving again. This is when the starving man finds himself lost, confused, bitter and believing his troubled life is a punishment. I believe the ogre represents a reflection of our self-hate and punishment. When the starving man handed over the letter. He obeyed his heart’s desire to give up his reasons for his self-punishment, self-hate and why he was starving. Only then was he able to receive the help he needed. Now one can take away another man’s blessings, which Okamisama has granted him.”

Eiji faced the priest. “But I’m responsible for death.”

The priest’s eyes peered into his with sobriety and wisdom touched by doing god’s work.

“Then work at being a man responsible for life. Japan’s war won’t be happening forever. I see a new age budding.”

The priest’s eyes welled with tears. “When war’s end comes, Japan needs men who’ll care for new life. War has scarred our country, left many hearts shaken.”

He pressed his palm to Eiji’s heart. “Here beats the heart of a good man. God’s soldier. Okamisama has led you here to know that you are good man who people will need in days to come.”

“Can I truly be forgiven?” Eiji’s voice trembled through his tears.

“The lives you’ve taken will one day face you with their answers. If Okamisama has led you here, means you still have a chance. Live by god’s grace. Do good by others and pay penance that way.” The priest’s face warmed with a forgiving smile.

Eiji wailed out all his suffering, pains, guilt, fears and grief before Bishamonten’s priest. Until he had no more tears to shed and his head ached.

“Hai.”

“Good. Now make a promise to live to be the best man you can be to yourself and to others.” The priest firmly instructed Eiji. “You can reclaim honour for all those that have lost theirs and can no longer make that claim.”

Eiji slowly lifted his head and nodded. He slowly shuffled before Bishamonten’s image enshrined in lotus flowers on a dais near the back wall. He bowed with his prayers for his forgiveness and pledging to the vows the priest had asked of him.

When he had finished his prayers and vows, he ate the food before him. Feeling his heart and stomach full. The young miko shortly returned to take him to a room he could rest for the night.

The next morning, he ate another meal and was escorted to the nearest village by the miko.  She left him at the bus stop with enough yen to travel to Hiroshima City.

He still felt troubled, but was able to step onto the bus with a clear head and renewed purpose for his life.

“Ren. I will honour your life. I promise.” Eiji whispered to himself as he opened his eyes to see the outskirts of Hiroshima breaking through the line of trees.

The bus descended towards a distant view of the barrack roof tops near the shores of Kaita Bay waters.