Page 35 of Water Moon

Chapter Thirty-five

Among the Stars

Keishin followed the procession out of the village, not knowing where it would lead him. Putting one step in front of another felt better than lying in bed at the inn and waiting for the sun to rise. He did not like the thoughts that kept him company. He had tried putting them to the task of solving the puzzle that Haruto had left him and Hana with, but they slipped from his grasp and cared only to paint Hana’s face behind his eyelids. Before he could retreat into any dream, he would have to endure restless hours staring at a smile that was never meant for him.

Masako, Keishin thought, had been right to shun him. He was an outsider in his world and in this one. He had intruded into Hana’s life, inserting himself into a script that had no part for him to play. Seeing Hana with Haruto had made that very clear. Haruto had made a sacrifice that only a person who had committed his life to someone else could make. Haruto had given Hana his heart a long time ago. And now he had given her his hands. His life’s purpose. His ikigai.

Keishin should have admired him, but he could not feel anything beyond his shame. He wanted a woman he barely knew, knowing full well that he was not capable of the same sacrifice the man who truly loved her had given. But still, he wanted her. As much as he wanted to know the stars and all their secrets. Maybe more.

This, he thought, was the basest of instincts that drove people to steal. Hana’s mother had felt it too. Keishin did not know what Chiyo had stolen. He didn’t have to. Thieves understood thieves. They all desired the water moon. Keishin imagined Chiyo sitting inside the pawnshop’s vault, surrounded by all the things she couldn’t have. His mother, he had no doubt, felt the same way whenever she used to hold him in her arms. The life she desperately wanted waited for her just outside her door, and all she had to do was empty her hands to pull the door open and step through it.

“It is you again,” an elderly voice said from behind him. “Hello.”

“Suzuki-san.” Keishin bowed. “Good evening.”

“Where is your friend? Have you decided to stay and watch the stars?”

“She’s somewhere up ahead,” Keishin lied. “And yes, we decided that we didn’t want to miss seeing the village’s hard work.”

“You will not regret it,” Fumiko said with a smile that showcased two missing teeth. “I promise that it is a sight you will not soon forget. But we’d better hurry. It is almost dark, and the stars will not wait.”

—

The villagers gathered in a grassy field beneath a starless sky. Those at the front carried large baskets on their backs and at the sound of a distant gong unhooked the baskets from their shoulders. They each reached inside their basket and pulled out a kite, passing the basket along to the person standing behind them. This went on until the baskets reached the very back of the crowd. A smiling woman turned around and handed an empty basket to Keishin. Keishin smiled back, trying not to look disappointed.

“It’s all right.” Fumiko patted Keishin’s arm. “You cannot look up and run at the same time. Tonight’s show is not on the ground.”

The wind picked up and whipped at Fumiko’s kimono. Keishin lifted his eyes to the sky, expecting to see rain clouds. “I’m sorry,” he said without thinking, compelled to apologize for his bad luck with the weather.

Fumiko tilted her head. “For what?”

“The weather. I think it’s about to rain. The kites won’t be able to fly tonight.”

Fumiko chuckled. “Why should anyone apologize about the weather? Besides, the rain knows that it is forbidden here. All the water we need is provided by the river and dew. Nothing keeps the stars from finding their place in the sky. Neither rain nor any Shiikuin can stop them from taking flight.”

“You are very lucky to be free of those monsters here,” Keishin said.

“Monsters?”

“The Shiikuin.”

Fumiko patted Keishin’s hand. “The Shiikuin are not monsters. They are necessary. They are playing their part just as you and I do. There is an order to our world because they cull those who would disturb it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course. The cranes at the Kyoiku Hakubutsukan have shown us the follies of the world beyond the door. A village such as ours could never exist in such chaos. The blinding lights of that world have hidden all their stars. The Shiikuin may not come here, but every villager is grateful for their service. Who else would collect and keep the birds?”

Another gong sounded, more thunderous than the first, charging the air with an energy Keishin could feel in his bones. The villagers raised their kites over their shoulders, and row after row they ran into the field, trying to catch the wind. Keishin watched them coax their kites higher. The kites glowed as they climbed, and for a moment, Keishin thought that they had caught fire. One by one, they rose into the sky, flying higher than any conceivable string could let them. More than a hundred kites twinkled against the canvas of night, diving and swirling, forming constellations Keishin longed to name. And when every kite had found its place, the villagers cut their strings, leaving Keishin to stand beneath a sparkling canopy of an entire world’s hopes. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Keishin said, craning his neck to take it all in.

“Ah.” Fumiko smiled. “You do not have children?”

“No, I don’t. Why do you ask?”

“Because if you had children, then this sky would only be the second most beautiful thing you would have seen,” Fumiko said. “This is something that you and Hana will understand when you become parents.”

“Hana isn’t…I mean we aren’t…uh…”

“I’m sorry. Please forgive this old woman for her foolish tongue. I did not realize that there were no children written over your and your wife’s skin. But we must trust the map the Horishi has given us.”

“Uh…yes.” Keishin nodded. “We must.”

“Some people are simply not fated to have children. Like me.”

Keishin frowned. “But you have children. We met them at your home.”

“They are my sister’s. When she died, I raised them and loved them as my own. And they have loved me,” Fumiko said. “As much as they could. There were many nights when they lay next to me and cried for their real mother until they fell asleep. Even though the stars lit up the village’s sky, those were the darkest nights I ever had. And yet, I could not help but feel that I deserved it.”

“Deserved it?”

“I had sent up a hope that had no place among the stars. I hoped for children even if there was no trace of a single child’s name on my skin. When my sister’s children were placed in my care, I could not help but feel that somehow, I had stolen her fate.” Fumiko looked up at the sky. “There is no greater misery than holding in your arms something that you know is not truly yours. In the worst of times, I thought that I would have preferred to have traded places with my sister.”

“Why?”

“Because death is kind and swift. Longing is a life sentence. But of course, things are better now and I—”

“?‘A life sentence.’?” Keishin repeated Fumiko’s words, not realizing he had said them out loud.

“Did you say something?” Fumiko asked.

“I…I’m sorry. I need to go.”