Page 33 of Water Moon

Chapter Thirty-three

The Trial and Sentencing of Ishikawa Chiyo

Twenty-one years ago

The morning at the pawnshop began as it always did, with the bubbling of a kettle and the brewing of green tea. Beyond that, nothing was the same. A heaviness filled the room, making it difficult to breathe.

“Say something,” Chiyo said, her thin hands wringing her skirt over her lap. “Anything. Please.”

Toshio looked up at her from across the table. “Nothing I can say will change the fate you have doomed all of us to live.”

“What I did,” Chiyo said, “I did for us.”

“You did it for yourself.”

“Perhaps.” Chiyo lowered her eyes. “And I would do it again.”

“But you cannot.” Toshio slammed his fist on the table and stood up. “You cannot do it again. You will not be able to do anything ever again because, after today, you will be dead.”

Chiyo walked toward him. “I am still here now.”

Toshio took a step back, breathing hard. “Don’t.”

Chiyo circled her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest. “Tell her stories about me so that she won’t forget about her mother.”

“I will tell Hana one story about you.” Toshio pushed her away. “I will tell her about this day so that she will know never to be as foolish as her mother.”

“Will you really let these be the last words we exchange, Toshio? You loved me once…”

“I…” Tears eroded the edges of Toshio’s voice. “I still do.”

“But you wish that you did not.”

Toshio clenched his jaw. “I wish I could hate you for what you have done to us. It would be easier to forget you when you are gone.”

“And I wish that I did not have to steal that choice, but it was the only way.”

“There was another way.” Toshio’s voice broke. “You could have been content with what you had. You could have just been happy. You…you were always enough for me.”

“Then have me now,” Chiyo said. “While we still have time.”

Toshio crushed her to him, claiming her lips. Chiyo kissed him back, hard and long, not caring for air.

—

The pawnshop, Toshio thought, had never been so silent. Not even the leaves of the tree in their courtyard seemed to make a sound. Or maybe all the screaming he had done inside his head since he had learned about Chiyo’s crime had made him deaf. He watched the Shiikuin slowly climb out from the pawnshop’s pond, their masks stripped of emotion. Hana slept in his arms the way only babies could, soundly and deeply, without the shadow of worry to follow them into their dreams.

His daughter’s life was going to change forever after today, and she was not even going to remember a single second of the life she had before it. And perhaps this was for the better. It waseasier to chew on misery if you did not know what happiness tasted like. Though the Shiikuin had come to punish Chiyo for her crime, it was Hana who was going to be tainted by it. Losing a mother under the best of circumstances, when she was old and gray and longing for rest, cut to the heart. Losing a mother to the Shiikuin cut deeper.

Two Shiikuin moved gracefully toward him, their arms folded across their chests, their talons hidden in the sleeves of their kimonos. The sight might have been beautiful if one did not know their real intent. They had discovered Chiyo’s crime months ago, on the day they had come to collect the birds from the vault. They would have exiled her then if not for her pregnancy. The child she carried was no different from any other child in their world; it belonged to them. Chiyo had robbed them once. The Shiikuin had no intentions of allowing her to steal from them again. Her punishment, they decided, would be handed down once their property had been delivered. There was, after all, nowhere Chiyo could run. Today, their wait was over.

“Where is the criminal?” the Shiikuin asked in unison, their voices a choir of at least a hundred more.

Hana stirred in Toshio’s arms. He rocked her gently, lulling her back to sleep. “My wife is waiting for you inside.”

The Shiikuin nodded and walked past him. Toshio followed them, his mind racing back to all the minuscule seconds that had led them to this day. Each point looked exactly like the rest, small and unnoticed, making it impossible to tell where he and Chiyo had veered horribly and irreversibly off course.

Chiyo met the Shiikuin in the middle of the pawnshop with her shoulders drawn back and her spine pulled straight. Though she came up only to his ear, in this moment, Toshio thought, Chiyo stood a hundred feet tall. She looked directly into the Shiikuin’s dark eyes as though it were she who was about to sentence them.

“Ishikawa Chiyo,” the pair of Shiikuin spoke. “You have been accused of the gravest of crimes. You took that which did not belong to you, a choice claimed by the Shiikuin on behalf of the dutiful citizens of this world. How do you plead?”

“To dream…” Chiyo lifted her chin. “To desire…to aspire for more than what is written on my skin is not a crime.”

“To steal it is. Your solemn duty was to collect these choices and keep them safe. By taking a choice as your own, you broke your husband’s trust and the trust placed in you by our world. Do you deny this?” the Shiikuin said in unison.

The rims of Chiyo’s eyes quivered. “I do not.”

The Shiikuin turned to Toshio. “Is there anything you wish to say in your wife’s defense?”

“Yes. I…” Hana wriggled against Toshio’s chest and began to cry. Toshio cradled her, feeling her grow heavy in his arms. He broke into a sweat, struggling to bear the weight of a life that was now fully dependent on him. He looked at Chiyo. She met his eyes, silently pleading with him to keep the promise she had forced him to make. She had begged him to remain silent for their daughter’s sake, to not anger or defy the Shiikuin further. Hana could not lose her father too.

“Speak,” the Shiikuin said.

“I have nothing to say.” Toshio lowered his eyes, trying to look at nothing beyond his daughter’s face. Chiyo was lost to him the instant she took the choice from the vault. Hana was all that mattered now.

“Ishikawa Chiyo,” the two Shiikuin said. “You have been found guilty in the eyes of this court. We sentence you to exile.”

“I accept my punishment.” Chiyo bowed her head. “May I hold my daughter one last time?”

The Shiikuin turned to each other, conferring without saying a word. “No, you may not.”

“I beg you.” Chiyo dropped to her knees. “I just want to say goodbye.”

“No.”

“Please. Hana will not have a mother to hold her after today. Kill me for my crime, but do not punish my daughter. She is innocent.”

The Shiikuin tilted their heads as though considering her words. “Very well. You may say goodbye.”

Toshio laid Hana in Chiyo’s arms. Chiyo nuzzled her cheek and hair. She kissed Hana’s forehead and handed her back to Toshio. She caressed Toshio’s cheek. “Take care of each other.”

Toshio kissed her through his tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Chiyo walked back to the Shiikuin. “I am ready.”

The two Shiikuin took their places on either side of Chiyo and gripped her arms. They looked at Toshio. “Leave us.”

“No. I want to be here,” Toshio said, holding Hana tightly.

“What you want is of no importance,” the Shiikuin said, digging their talons deeper into Chiyo’s wrist. “Leave.”

“Do as they say, Toshio,” Chiyo said. “You do not need to see this. I do not want you or Hana to be here. This is not a memory that I wish either of you to keep.”

—

The two Shiikuin led Chiyo to the pawnshop’s door, gripping her arms tight. Chiyo wondered if fading away was going to be quick or painful. She didn’t imagine that it could hurt more than letting her daughter go. The Shiikuin on her right closed its talons around the doorknob and pulled the door open, then it stopped suddenly and pushed the door shut. Both Shiikuin closed their eyes and bowed their heads, tilting them slightly as though trying to listen to something faint or far away.

“It will be done,” they said, responding to someone Chiyo couldn’t see or hear. They lifted their heads and looked at Chiyo.

“What’s going on?” Chiyo said.

“We have changed our mind.”

“What?” Chiyo gasped.

“We have decided that you require a punishment more fitting of your crime.” The two Shiikuin angled their heads, allowing shadows to morph their unmoving plaster lips into a sneer. “Death is more than you deserve.”