On The Island Where The Light Shines

The mountain pass is the same as Shinpei has been passing through for ages. The familiar route of walking by the Kominkas, yet undisturbed. A light breeze grazes the skin of his cheeks, a contrast to the heavy sword in his hand. However blustery the winds are, they cannot reach the storm of his heart.

A dwindling storm that had not died in the years that had been left behind by the wound.

Shinpei stretches his fingers on the sword and observes the view. An obscuring one which disturbed the peaceful, rather fragile boredom of the Mountain pass.

Bandits were storming into one of the more prosperous houses. Screams echo around, boisterous of the invading men, or the terror of the homebound. Their weapons look far more lethal than the simple sword at his hand. Yet, without the intent to boast, Shinpei knows that even unarmed, those men are no difficult fight for him.

He is not obliged to help those people. They are of no concern to him. Perhaps he would not have spared another glance at the scenery, choosing to walk away to find his target as an assassin. He would have continued on a path of killing, seeking revenge for a goal which had already gone blurry, or to find a reason for his existence.

On that path, He found it. A reason which forced him to hold a sword for once, not to kill, but to protect. A reason for which he remains alive even when his heart had died.

The same hands that coveted blood now seek to protect.

Shinpei is not sure anymore why he holds the promise he made years ago, even when the giver is long gone into a land he cannot follow. Perhaps somewhere in his mind, Shinpei finds this as the only way to feel Satoko’s arms around him now. To feel her sweet words fill his ears with praises and love. To remember the love they once shared with her soft lips on his cracked ones. A love which is gone for one, and haunting for the other.

Shinpei’s eyes drift to the cord on his little finger, and he lightly presses his lips on it. His wedding ring.

His eyes soften for a moment, remembering his promise to her. Then it is gone. The bandits thrash around the house in his vision as the most brawny of them shout to search every nook and cranny. Shinpei tightens his grip on his sword and moves stealthily through the bushes towards the Kominka. In a moment, his foot thuds on the wooden entrance, announcing his presence.

A sickle comes flying towards his face. Shinpei weilds the sword and swings it on the blade at the last moment, changing its trajectory. The thrower is a tall man with eyes of bloodlust.

Their leader scoffs and scratches the back of his head with the knife in his hand, “hah? Who are you?”

Shinpei does not reply. His presence ticks the room off in a way the bandits hate to face. Another man guffaws, stupefied by his nerves. His hands shoot out to Shinpei’s shoulders. They never reach. The motion is a blur when Shinpei strikes his hand and bends it at an angle so abnormal that it is barely hanging by the wrist.

The room erupts into a havoc of cries and blades flying across for Shinpei. Angry shouts and equally dangerous punches come for him. Shame, all of them touch only the air where Shinpei disappears. He reappears behind them in a beat and bashes their heads to the floor. Many try, but none succeed to catch the former assassin.

His sword strikes the temples of the bandits who crawled on the floor for mercy. But Shinpei shows none. The highest mercy he offers is the gift of a sheathed sword. The only barrier which stops Shinpei from sending the bandits to the hands of death.

The old couple who were shivering at the corner now stare at him in awe and daze. No words form from their quivering lips, which he takes as a sign to speak first.

“They’re bandits who started to take over the mountain pass,” He isn’t sure where the sound came from. Until he realises that it was from his own lips. A stranger has his voice become now, from the coldness they speak. “If anything happens again, call for me. I’ll be staying in the neighbouring inn.”

The couple finally manage to find their words, “th-thank you so much.” They bow. “Uhm… just who are–”

“I am no one worth giving a name.”

He turns to leave. His promise to Satoko is completed here. Somewhere else, maybe his assistance will be needed somewhere more, where his heart will shrivel at the chance of feeling her again.
Right then, something falls to the ground hushedly. Shinpei’s eyes travel down to the cord now lying torn. He blinks off the emptiness filling his heart at the sight and picks it up.

For three years now, he has been protecting this cord. And each time it breaks in a weaker way than the last. Maybe it is time to put it somewhere only for him, not for the world to see.
“Is there anyone who can sew?” he asks the couple.

“Sew? My wife is able to…” The wife falls onto the man’s lap, blue and distressed. Passed out.

Shinpei sighs and heads out to the roads. On both sides, shops are covering the streets. The sellers shout to attract customers, but no sound reaches his ears. Shinpei’s steps are as aimless as the day he walked the road alone, without Satoko. She was the light to guide his life. Without her, it is nothing but a fleeting moment until they meet in heaven again.

The thought brings some semblance of comfort. Then again, they would belong to different worlds even in the afterlife. His abhorrent number of killings could only lead to the fires of hell.

An inn comes into view, one where he is staying. Shinpei steps in and takes a seat at the entrance. Only then does he allow himself to release a breath of exhaustion and take off his hat. Seems like his body, too, is in the same state as his mind.

The cord in his hand lay damaged. Shinpei didn’t know how to sew, and he could not find anyone who knew either. He isn’t sure what to do except stare mindlessly at the object.

Just then, Shinpei sees the silhouette of a kid peeking. He looks up, and the kid hides again.

“What is your business?” Shinpei asks, rather with a stony tone.

The boy jumps out in surprise and immediately falls to his knees before him.

“My name is Yataro!” his enthusiasm, or determination, borders on shouting. “Will you take me as your disciple? Please! I can act as your guide or carry your things and anything!”

There is a glint in the kid’s eyes. Not childlike, that should be there. It is a burn for the same path a young Shinpei had chosen, and reaped the consequences. The burn for revenge.

“No, that sounds like a bother”

Yataro halts as Shinpei stands up to leave. He bows his head lower to the ground and begs, “I want to become stronger! My family was killed by bandits, and I want to avenge them!”

Shinpei peers at the boy, seeing himself as a reflection in the young boy. “How old are you?” he asks.

Hope flickers in Yataro’s eyes, “im eight…”

“All that at eight? You should give up. You’ll be killed immediately.” Shinpei heads inside.

Yataro grits his teeth, his hands going to the knife in his kimono, “... I’m ready to die at any time. If I can land just a single blow on you, take me as your dis-”

His words are cut off when he feels a large hand clamp around his wrist. Shinpei simply stands there, but the boy shudders, and the knife falls out of his grasp.

When Shinpei lets go of his wrists, he falls to the ground. Tears fall from his eyes as he groans. “Why am I so weak? I want to kill the ones who took my mom… I want to rip them to pieces and make them suffer, but…”

“People must think that about me, too,” Shinpei murmurs to himself.

Yataro wipes his tears and looks up, “huh?”

There is no reason to entertain this matter further, so Shinpei turns to go to his room. “Not a single good thing comes from killing people. I don’t encourage it.”

Silence prevails for a moment.

Then, the boy shouts again, “I know someone who can sew!”

Shinpei pauses and turns his head over his shoulder, “Hm?”

“You don’t have to take me as your disciple. Just let me come with you. Allow me to study your swordsmanship at your side!”

──.☘︎.──

The moon has befallen the sky by the time Yataro leads Shinpei to the place where he can get the cord sewn.

“Yumi!” Yataro, who is walking ahead, calls to the small house ahead, “I have a request for you.”

He leads Shinpei to a room inside and disappears into another. A woman’s voice comes along with Yataro having a discussion. Shinpei pays no heed and chooses to look at the cord in his hand.

After some time, a young woman enters the room with a box in her hands.

“Yataro told me that you need some sewing done?”

“Yes,” Shinpei pushes his hand in her direction, “I would like you to sew this around my little finger”

She leans in with a tilted head, inspecting the cord closely, “It's quite the old cord”

“I’ll pay,” Shinpei states.

“With it being as old and beat up as it is,” the woman takes the cord gently into her hands. “It could break and fall off while you don’t notice. If it's something precious, you can also consider putting it away.”

From the box, she takes out a small silk pouch and hands it to Shinpei with a gentle smile, “Here. If you’d like, please use this.”

Her gesture is met with silence. He holds the pouch but doesn’t bother to say anything else. The woman gets to her work and sits beside him. Her fingers work fluidly, with a gentleness which speaks of her mastery over the needlecraft. Slowly, the damaged cord wraps around Shinpei’s finger just as the day he first wore it. When Satoko smiled happily and promised their future together. Oh, how happy were those times. Shinpei would give up his breath if it meant to relive even a second more of those moments with her again.

“I’ll sew it as securely as I can,” the woman’s gentle voice breaks him out of his trance.

“... Thank you”

Silence takes over the room again. And Shinpei prefers it to stay as it is. None other mattered now. But the woman seems to continue the conversation.

“I heard you saved this village from the bandits.”

The needlework is almost finished, with her last threads pulling it together. “It just happened that Bandits came to the village while I was here.” He says.

Her fingers retreat from his hands, and Shinpei turns to pull out some money. Just then, the ruffling of clothes catches his attention. The woman’s kimono slides off her shoulders to expose her chest, with her cheeks slightly flushed with a sultry expression. “I… must thank you.”

Shinpei looks at her with disinterest until she starts leaning in closer. Her lips were only a breath away, to steal a kiss as gratitude. But his hands meet her throat first, for he pushes her back and pulls up to his feet.

“I don’t need any thanks,” he says, placing the money on the floor and turning to leave. But the woman crawls to his feet to stop him.

“Please!” she begs, “just once!”

He ties a scarf around his neck and peers down, “I have already given someone my heart,” and that someone did not exist for him anymore.

The woman stares up, dumbfounded. “A-are they connected with the cord?”

Shinpei blinks, turning to the cord. The material feels soft as he stretches his pinky up. Far more than a connection, it is the object which signifies that Satoko was real. That someone once existed who loved him more than herself. She, who made him want to live by giving away her own life.

A small smile stretches his lips, and he pulls off the cord delicately. “I would hate to lose it.” It drops inside the silk pouch, and he securely tucks it inside his kimono. “So I’ll put it away after all.”

The smile he leaves with is his last act of gratitude to the woman, “Thank you for the bag.”

And that is the last time the woman ever sees him, for he goes away onto his path with a younger version of himself, whom he is determined to show to a better path than he walked.

The boy named Yataro

──.☘︎.──

‘Satoko.

Five years have passed.

Are you well?

I don’t suppose you can reply, so I should continue.

Life has been okay for me.

With you gone, I continued my journey without any destination. For years.

It wasn’t to make up for the sins of my past. Your words back then had compelled me. I wanted to keep wearing the cord forever if possible. But because I absolutely did not want to lose it, I kept it in a pocket close to my heart.

I hope you will not be upset by that. My heart still remains yours.

I truly didn’t know how to live without you. I still do not.

There are no longer things I enjoy doing. Somehow, they all remind me of your presence. You were the most fun part of my life. Now, I cannot find anything I want to do. Im always lethargic. Would you have scolded me if you were here?

It is hard to admit, but I never lie to you. So, I have thought about dying. Over and over. There’s no meaning to living in a world without you. But I cannot.

After all, you never stopped trying to live till the end. If I give up despite everything, I can never face you again. So, I hope you forgive me for not visiting your grave.’

Shinpei is lost in his thoughts again, staring into the wilderness across the river. A few paces behind, grunts and the striking of swords against a tree echo. Shinpei, as promised, trained Yataro for swordsmanship, and the kid learned quickly.

“Shinpei-san,” Yataro heaves and sits on the grassy land with a thump, exhausted after practising for hours.

The older man did not bother to look back, “Hm?”

“Why do you never open your letters?” There is genuine wonder in the eyes of the ten-year-old.

“What letters?”

“The ones from Kotaro. You always tell me to burn them.”

A small, unnoticeable flinch jerks Shinpei from his trance.

kotaro. Why is he still writing to him? For the past years, he has not replied or read even a single one. Kotaro belonged to the chapter of his life that he had closed away and could not open at any cost. It is only by a thin thread that Shinpei still hangs onto life without losing his sanity. One of his ways is locking any memory of the celestial maiden island, or anyone who knew him when he was with Satoko.
He can bear imagining her by his side, but not revisit the memories when he was truly happy.

“And what did you do with them?” he turns his head over his shoulder, watching Yataro with a disinterested gaze.

The kid smiles and moves his shoulders upward, a dramatic shrug. “I did as you said…” and there is more, because Shinpei catches the teasing glint shining in his eyes.
Shinpei sighs, “And what happened?”

“I did as you said. However,” the kid stretches the last word long and pulls something out of his pocket. A white envelope. “This came by today, and you haven’t yet told me to burn it. So let’s read it, okay? It's rude to ignore someone’s letters for so long.”

Again? Just how persistent is this man?

Shinpei rolls his eyes and stares at the drifting clouds of the blue sky. He did not want to read, but perhaps Yataro is right. Ignoring can only work for so long until the sender stops sending the letters, and Kotaro certainly is not one of them.

“You know how to read, right? Read them for me.”

Yataro furrows his brows in confusion. He thought that it was a personal letter. Still, he opens the envelope and unfolds the letter inside.

Clearing his throat, he begins-

“Dear Shinpei san,

This may be the 1000th letter that I am sending. Kotaro-kun advised me to be patient, that you will reply to these letters one day. I can’t help but feel impatient. I miss our conversations, I miss your laugh, I miss the way you used to be so overprotective that I became spoiled.

More than that, I miss you.

Maybe I will forever be looking for you in places where your memories remain. But I fear you have moved on with your life. Am I the only one clinging to us? I hope not. Although I will not blame you if you found another woman. I have caused too much trouble for you.

If you don’t reply to this letter, then I will accept your departure with peace.

If you do, then I will forever wait for you at our home.

Take care of yourself.

Your wife
Satoko”

All Shinpei can hear is a buzz.
And his life drowns.

──.☘︎.──

The scarce population of men disembark the boat when it meets the ground of the celestial maiden island. Although Yataro and Shinpei received strange looks throughout the journey, nobody said anything. Whether it was the presence of a kid or the dead expression on Shinpei, it was a mystery.

Once his feet meet the familiar ground, Shinpei struggles to maintain sanity.

Everywhere he looks, an illusion appears. A memory from afar.

He fixes his hat to block his face from view and turns to Yataro, who stares at everything as if it were a wonder.

“You,” Shinpei calls, “don’t go anywhere. Stay close to me. I won’t help you if these guys kidnap and sell you somewhere.” he stretches out his hands.

Yataro pouts and takes it, “I’m not a baby. And I am strong enough to take down these people.”

“...sure”

They trail along a path through the island. Wondrous and melancholic. His gaze falls on one of the older huts at a height, on a specific window.

Even the reminiscence feels as beautiful as the day they had met. It is the hut where the daughter of the noble Kirigaya family was captured and kept. So pure but courageous, Shinpei cracks a small smile as he remembers her boldness to take his help, to walk alongside him. He still remembers the way she jerked and thrashed with her frail body when he picked her up like a sack and jumped from that height.

The market is the same as Shinpei remembers. However, the lack of familiar faces is evident. The place is home, but a distance he cannot reach too. Through the path, memories come as a whiplash, along with rising emotions. Shinpei had almost forgotten how full of life Satoko used to be, despite being the one with the least time to live. Her diligence in helping with chores, the way she sparkled, and at a shop, Shinpei remembers one of their happiest moments, where he had her in his arms and spinning around.
His eyes are becoming glossy. He has to look away.

They pass through the field where Satoko and Shinpei confessed their love, and the roof where they used to spend the nights. Shinpei fears that if Yataro takes a moment away from his wandering eyes, he would notice his master’s wobbling feet.

The trees become thicker, and his mind foggier as his ‘home’ approaches closer.

No, he could not go there. Not like this. For years, he has convinced himself that he has no home. He isn’t ready to face the reality so suddenly. At least not in front of Yataro. If Satoko is alive, truly. If this isn’t a cruel game of fate, then this moment belongs only to them and nobody else.

Yataro stops and looks up in confusion when Shinpei lets go of his hand. His eyes remain downcast to the ground, as if struggling with an invisible knife in his heart that bled out with any word he spoke.
“Yataro, you should-”

“Took you long enough to come,” A mocking voice calls out from the side.

Shinpei takes a pause, stunned enough not to know how to react. The voice has gotten deeper than the last time he remembered. Slowly, he turns his head and sees the man leaning against the tree with a smug but content look.

He parts his lips, but no voice comes out. “You…”

The man stands straight and walks toward Shinpei with his arms folded on his broad chest. “Finally received her letters, I assume? You deserve a punch for making her wait so long.”
Close enough now, the man puts a hand on Shinpei’s shoulder, “Satoko sama has waited far too long.”

“Where…. Where is she?” The question comes as a whisper. Shinpei gathers himself to face the reality that has been kept in the dark for so long. “Where is she, Kotaro?”

The man smiles and signals to the path that leads to a cottage. Their cottage. That is the last signal Shinpei needed for someone to confirm that it is real and not a sham. The miracle of her life.

He lunges forward on the path and runs.

Runs until he is out of breath.

Runs until his ‘home’ stands there to greet him.

His heart drums violently in his chest, and he didn’t know if it was the run or seeing the familiar yukatas hanging dry outside the cottage.

Ever since Shinpei had a recollection of, his steps had never faltered. He had never felt scared to kill, even the highest of targets he got. Fear was an emotion unknown to the assassin whose hands were darker than the sea of blood. But today, he becomes a mere human, terrified of facing what is waiting for him.

Finally, his hands push open the door and hesitantly peer inside.

And his heart almost stops.

──.☘︎.──

“Satoko?”

It is the sound of a prayer, from the heart of a devotee. It is the wish of a thirsty man to feel the last droplets on his skin. The faintest whisper of a lover.

The woman straightens at the sound, hands occupied with embroidering a piece of fabric. She looks healthy, better than her sickly days. The difference is noticeable, for she shines brighter than the stars even in a cottage plain as day.

Slowly, her head turns towards the door. Her expression morphs into one of shock, but a gentle smile soon takes place.

“Shinpei san, Welcome home,” he had dreamt of this more times than he could count. But now that it is a reality, suddenly all his senses are gone.

His legs go weak, forcing him to lean on the wood to balance himself. This reality of his, he takes small steps towards it, and even smaller whispers.

“Sa… satoko? You…”

Satoko can only watch with the ache in her heart, to see her lover after years. The tears gloss his eyes as he falls beside her and grabs her arms desperately. Her smile is turning wobbly, yet she wraps her arms around Shinpei and presses her face into his shoulders. The man, on the verge of breakdown, melts into the hug. No tears leave their eyes, still the heavy heart lightens in the moment.

“You’re late,” Satoko’s muffled voice says.

Shinpei replies a beat later, “I’m sorry. I never opened the letters. I thought Kotaro-” words pause when his voice breaks into a sob. “Im sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry. Im sorry.”

He keeps apologising like a chant, tears worth years of pain falling freely. Satoko pulls back a little and takes his face into her hands gently. Her own eyes are wet, but she still grins. Her thumb caresses his wet cheeks in a way to memorise this feeling. Shinpei opens his eyes and presses his face into her hands more. With his flushed nose and reddened eyes spilling tears, nobody would think that this is the same assassin who used to terrorise the strongest of men in Japan.

“It is alright, my dear. All is well. You’re here now. There is nothing more I ask for.”

“But Mitsuharu said- what happened, Satoko? How did this happen?”

Satoko chuckles and wipes his tears, “I’ll tell you everything, but calm down first. We have so many things to catch up on.”

She holds his hands and tries to stand up, but Shinpei pulls her into her lap by her waist. His lips find her soft ones, and everything explodes inside them. The years of separation, longing, agony of losing each other and being brought back together by fate. His anger, pain, happiness and helplessness, he pours each feeling into the kiss. Satoko doesn’t move immediately, but her hands wrap her arms around his shoulder in no time and return the kiss even more fiercely than he. It is a battle of who gives up and lets the other take the lead. But both were far too wounded to stop.

It is flaming. Desperate. Passionate. Clumsy. Breathless.

More than anything, it is theirs.

The salty taste of tears seeps into the kiss. Neither cares. Satoko tries to pull away a bit, maybe to look at him or to resume the conversation. But Shinpei groans and pulls her back into a harder kiss.

His lips travel to her jaw, to her ear, kissing every part of her face until he reaches her neck. He looks up, asking for permission. Through her blush, she manages a nod and turns her head to the side.

Shinpei smiles and slides his lips on her skin,

After smothering her with kisses and basically making Satoko squirm with laughter, he pulls back with a proud smirk and cups her face, “There it is. I missed this smile so much.”

With tears prickling her eyes, her laugh subsided into a warm expression. Her hands rest on his, who was holding her face. At that moment, Shinpei’s eyes fell on her hands, specifically on her little finger. The old and battered cord of theirs, she still wears. From the small sewings, it is clear that she worked her hardest to keep the cord as it had been.

“You still wear it?” Shinpei asks.

Following his gaze, Satoko turns to look at his hands too, “You… don’t,” the disappointment is palpable.

“I don’t have your sewing skills. So I had to keep it safe.” he pulls out the pouch from the pocket inside his yukata and shows the cord. “Don’t worry. I always kept it close to my heart.”

Taking the cord gently into her hands, she unties the knot and pulls his little finger close. Then, she ties it around again and grins softly. “See, we are matching again.”

Satoko holds both her and his hands in the air and shows the proof of their love off to an audience invisible in sight.

She looks so dazzling with her charming energy. Shinpei could not keep his eyes off her for even a second. From the corner of his eyes, he watches her gush over the cord so lovably that it makes him want to give everything in this world to her. Every moment they missed together.

“Satoko,” he starts with excitement, “let’s do it again. Let's get married. Properly this time. We can invite everyone you want. I’ll wear the groom’s dress, and you’ll wear the bride’s. Ah, you’ll look so pretty, just like a princess! We will decorate the venue just as you want and have your favourite dishes there!”

Shinpei almost jumps like a ball of energy as he describes the wedding more. Hands holding Satoko gently, he didn’t realise when he pulled her up and started walking around the cottage. She can’t help but laugh alongside him.

Soon, evening falls over, and they are still too immersed in their conversation to catch up. Shinpei’s head lies on Satoko’s lap as he recalls all the details from his voyage of five years, and she plays with her hair. Every now and then, Shinpei’s face reddens when Satoko praises him, and it is the most adorable sight.

“Satoko, I’ll not force you to say if you don’t want to. But why did all the letters have Kotaro’s name on them? You know, if it had your name on it, then I would’ve never burnt them.”

She sighs, but it isn’t from fatigue. “Some people have been trying to find the people of the Kirigaya family after my father was sent to jail. Kotaro says it is something about my father’s dealings. My stepmother and stepsister have already left. I didn’t want them to find me through the letters, if they were intercepting them just in case.”

Shinpei blanks out and tries to wrap his head around the whole ordeal. “So they are looking for you?”

“Were. I hope they have given up. Mitsuharu-san spread the word that I was no more, but some of them could not give it a rest and thought it was a lie. Still, we had to be on our guard.”

He slowly sits up and stares at Satoko. Not a thought behind those empty eyes. She tilts her head, as if asking him what is wrong.

“You don’t need to hide anymore, Satoko. I’ll always protect you.”

He says it with such conviction and determination, Satoko’s heart skips a beat. For a while, she had almost forgotten how overprotective Shinpei used to be. Now that they are together, they both have a lot to remember and get used to.

“I know. And I am not afraid anymore,” She takes her hand and intertwines their fingers, “whatever there is to come, we will face it together. And I promise. I promise that we will be okay.”

The separation has caused wounds too deep in their souls. Irreparable times of grief and pain. They could not expect to be the same as they were five years ago, unscathed by the distance. But they were ready to take a step towards another start. To make memories happier than they have, and to live a life they had only dared to dream. Maybe the distance was worth it if the gift of being together felt as sweet as it did now.