Chapter 3 — Ichigo-Ichie

A name, an ordinary and forgettable name. Kuroki Zenta. A person from a small village without any distinction, title, or importance. To me, the difference may seem insignificant at times, dead or alive, but I always took good care of every soul. Because of that, you might expect bright memories, but it always felt wrong to experience happiness. I can feel those memories flowing like a stream; flexible but linear.

Looking back on that life I felt nothing special or profound about me. No reason or direction, and sometimes, that feeling was almost paralyzing. In such cases being there, waiting for the day before my time was done. However, my soul gradually fell into place because of its connection to my past, becoming familiar with all those things I had never seen before but which had been my life.

Zenta. A motherless child with an inescapable father. Waiting for the winter to cover him with snow. Having small moments of happiness, but never enough to leave his mind completely. A nondescript boy, unbearably silent, like an invisible ear listening as every breeze carries a faint voice that never speaks to him. A small boy, weak and fragile. With a face no one would look twice at, with a body no one could fear or desire. He was me. This is me. In one moment alone crying, in the other, looking at his reflection in the river.

It was the Bunkyu era, in a place called Aizu. A small village surrounded by trees. Where little kids used every corner of the town, looking for something interesting to look at. For a kid like me, these places are usually hidden or just a mystery. They were not reserved for me nor were they welcoming, but I had the courage to be alone and explore this strange place where I had the best and perhaps rare moments of freedom. For all these beautiful moments there is, of course, there's that shadow every time I approach it, which creates a sadness where all my feelings become one.

But I know that now, all those beautiful icy images can melt and drown the boy who still looks into a deep void. Each new memory is an opportunity to find another painful lesson about who I used to be. When every step I took, it seemed like I was going to make someone suffer. First, my mother, when I was born, and therefore my father, when I took her from him. Then his family, then the rest of the town. All that came before my childhood, in this empty corner where time was lost and no one spoke about it.

In my earliest memory was him, lurking in my hiding place. To my dismay, he was always there, on guard for whoever was far from happiness. I looked up from inside the bush where I was hiding; sure he had gone another way, protected by my beloved silence. Safe.

—I found you!—, he shouted from above.

I looked up at him in confusion before his smile spread and swallowed half of my existence whole.

—I won, Zenta-kun is out—.

—It's not fair! Akio-kun—, was heard right away.

We were kids playing in the forest, one of the few good memories I had.

—Zenta-kun wasn't playing—, said another.

—Then why was he hiding?—, he replied sarcastically.

—He always hides—.

They all laughed while I kept looking at him with my tired eyes. Nakajima Akio is a hero born among the poor and foolish. That great idol with red hair and a bright smile who always won at anything, or at least was prepared to.

—No, I'm being faithful, I say I was playing and I don't lie—.

As soon as I walked out, he grabbed my arm.

—Zenta-kun is my friend, so he's your friend too—.

This time no one laughed, even the small group that formed every time. Instead, they awkwardly whispered to each other.

—Akio-tan, why are you so kind?—, asked a worried girl.

He sighed noisily and looked over her head at the sky behind their respective.

—I don't know about you, but Zenta-kun hasn't done anything to me. I'd like to have as many friends as I can, even if I think people might hate me, they deserve every chance to prove me wrong. So I think he's good, as good as anyone here. And if it's not good enough for you guys, don't bother playing me either—.

As a consolation, they didn't hate the idea of being around me, but they hated the idea that he wanted to be my friend. I just didn't understand them hating me just because; the same way he liked me for no reason. In those moments, my thoughts filled me with joy knowing that I had him. If only everyone was like him, maybe even similar to him, I shouldn't be hated at every turn. We walked home together that same night.

—Forgive me, Akio-san—, I said.

It seemed that my apology didn't bother him at the moment, but he learned to respond quickly enough.

—Why are you apologizing this time?—.

—They didn't want to play anymore—.

—I'm not sorry. Why should I feel bad for their mistake?—.

At the time I didn't understand his reasoning. Maybe he was like that since he had so many friends. Or he thought they would never learn to respect me.

—Akio-san...—.

—Don't call me that. Oh well...—.

He was a year older than me, but he still respected me; in fact, he was the only one who did. At first, when I returned his affection, he would tease me and ask, "Are you doing it to please me?" Then I would cry because I couldn't lie.

As time went on, our relationship changed. He became more and more popular, wittier, stronger, and loved. Although the moments we shared were long from the perspective of a child, it was easy for me to lose him along with those good memories. I felt that I had revealed many important aspects about myself that he should not know. I was deeply upset that I had opened up to him, exaggerating my importance as I watched him float among the people of the city. Why should I be more important than others?

After becoming just another person in his circle of many, my ego and ambition, which were already almost non-existent, had been destroyed forever. While Akio showed no sign of weakness, I saw the dark cloud of arrogance that threatened him as time went on. How he seemed to have it all, from beauty to strength, in total contrast to my fate.

Indeed, I could feel its effects on my value gradually diminishing as nothing seemed to stand in its way. Leading to the success he always seemed so determined to get, and made me see the cold look of failure in his reflection every time. I, who had no talent and, in a different order, saw his ambition driving him to a kind of complacency that seemed insatiable.

Most painful of all the events, that for each of these elements and his own ego, a powerful aversion to my actions, however honest or noble they might be, seemed completely opposed to his. We seemed diametrically opposed despite being resolved to the same altruistic nature. Even with the knowledge and acceptance of Akio's kind behavior, there was a profound contrast between the acceptance of my nature even when I had good intentions.

My mind resurfaced in full awareness and realization that nothing about Akio and I was "just," and when that very real truth came out repeatedly against me, an emotional pressure increased upon me; a new intensity in which my rejections were amplified. All my experiences and opinions regarding his character changed their content dramatically after being compared at countless points and without compromising any judgment.

If I said something different from him, I was wrong, if I supported or did not support something he had said, others quickly contradicted me, even if he was not present. At certain times the relationship became unbearable. The children usually tried to experiment on us for no other reason than to humiliate me. Making Akio run against me knowing he was the fastest, fighting with him knowing he was the strongest. Even when he was gentle with me, I could feel his pity, his contempt was not great enough to spare me the torment.

Any act of kindness on my part was considered an insult or even a provocation. Any effort to be better was immediately questioned. Every suggestion or question seemed like a criticism and every response a challenge. Some people would question or laugh at my intentions while praising Akio's skill and talent at every possibility. My thoughts became a series of programmed warnings, where I would immediately refuse to be seen alongside him. At every moment, my words or my movements were scrutinized with special caution by the very people who saw in him the purest of hearts.

"Why can't you be like him? "

"Have you learned nothing from him? "

"What's the matter with you?"

These were things my father used to say when I was left behind. After seeing how Akio made many friends in the city and was always an object of pride for his father. He resented me after he became "Zenta's father", feeling how his role became that of the mockery of the other men in town. The price I paid for this was worse than with Akio, however, because of his love and respect for my mother, it was never drastic enough.

"You are useless."

I received beatings for everything. For his humiliations, for his dreams, his worries, and the way his life felt after my arrival. I was punished for my nature, for being what I am. Every excuse I had, I had to pay. Not talking enough, not eating enough, not playing outside, or not getting dirty after school. Even my work took the same measure of him, as the blacksmith he was, when all the other kids were working with their father, I stayed inside and sat so he could keep other people from seeing me trying to emulate him.

"You may look like your mother, but you're nothing compared to her."

I wasn't strong enough to forge metal. I could not strike the anvil without wasting his precious steel, while the pain inflicted by him drove me to despair until my exhaustion caught his hand. Yet he knew it and continued to do so for some years, his cruelty was always guiding his eyes and his hand where my weakness had no chance of freedom; as if to hide his own destruction. My body was constantly punished and caused a series of problems that curiously led me to the only person who was able to care.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

A single tear slipped into what appeared to be a ghost. On one of my constant escapades to the river, she saw my wounds. We both stood looking at each other. I was ashamed of my frail body as I tried to soothe myself with clean water, but she paid no heed. She was about thirteen, like me, but I had never seen her before. She approached me with a strangely motherly look, so gentle that it didn't take me long to pull away. I covered myself with an effort until her voice gave me a reassuring tone I had never seen before.

—What's your name?—.

—Ze ... Zenta—, I said as my thoughts returned.

—How cute—, she smiled. It was so strange to me what seemed so simple. If only once I would get some kindness... maybe if I wasn't weak... but she didn't care.

—I'm Araki Yumiko, nice to meet you, Zenta—.

She sat down next to me and gently took my hand.

—Does it hurt?—, I looked down and barely made a sound.

—Sometimes...—.

That feeling...that soft smile gave off an icy calm, something I had never experienced anywhere else except when I met Akio. She smiled and it made my pain a little more bearable, almost as if nothing was happening; as if nothing else existed.

Was it this happiness? This kindness from someone so pure. Why had it been so hard for me? How was my life so devoid of such simplicity? At that moment, it didn't matter. My soul had come from those depths in an instant. I never wanted anything in my life, I had no desires or aspirations, but in that instant I knew, I wanted to sit with her forever.

She hugged me lovingly and made such simple gestures with my bruises that I could feel the warmth amidst the pain.

—Can I see?—.

In a single sentence, she opened up all sorts of little emotions in me. I hesitated, unsure of my small body as she held out her arm, revealing cuts and scars both old and recent. My face turned red as she stroked my back and gently dried it around the edges. A more peaceful silence had never existed in my life.

She asked many questions and I answered them briefly and awkwardly, though only in fragments that were not entirely satisfactory so that she might become more curious. I continued to get nervous with simple sentences long after she was done with my skin.

I noticed her beauty now that I was strong enough to look into her eyes. They were beautiful in a way that projected comfort rather than judgment, her hair falling and covering her features seemed very much in keeping with her mysterious arrival. That beauty and grace shone from within; her clothes still bore traces of grass and mud, but they were so feminine and impeccable that it almost felt insulting they were in my presence.

During all the little moments she stayed there until there were no more points or questions answered. She let me speak without interruption, without hesitation or distrust, without judgment or accusation. We were there for many hours, the only constant being my attempts to continue, but it was too late. When the sun went down, she simply said one word: "pray."

If only he was so devout. Because as soon as the day was over with her, all hope had died. I tried to ask her my own questions, but she politely declined.

—Sometimes you have to be a little selfish Zenta-kun. And even though your words can't take me home, I promise to remember them forever—.

She turned slowly and gave a long look before smiling once more. When I only heard the sound of the river, I stood up. I stood for so long that I almost felt like I wanted to die right there. In reality, it could only have been a few hours, but my heart was full, a deep emotion had grown in my very nature for the first time.

That night my father beat me for being so late, but the fear from earlier had less effect. Because the water still felt deep with her touch. It didn't seem worth being lost or in sorrow, just because everything changed after that day. It took me several tears to finally understand those simple gestures and let them be something bigger than me. I just hoped to see her again, to learn from her; just a word a day if necessary, nothing mattered after I heard her name.

I would go to the same place every day after school, but after weeks she had not returned. It didn't take long for others to notice, but I kept it a secret. Late at night, I stayed there, sitting in the cold, my stomach choked and my mind often cluttered in disarray. To avoid further beatings, I made the excuse of going to get food. I didn't care about the risk or my lack of skill. I picked up a bow and arrows with no idea how to use them. It could have worked only as proof of my commitment and yet I had no intention of hurting anyone.

Finally, after a full month, my patience paid off. I had no choice but to start shooting, although I was afraid, on one hand, to use a gun, my fear of my father was greater. My first victim was a small rabbit, who could barely walk. I felt bad, but I found that their little bodies were good enough to keep me out of trouble. I got a little better each time until I found enough good places to do my part and wait for her at the same time.

In those moments everything seemed as if I had imagined it. When my nerves calmed down, I finally became an effective archer. This time every shot became a success, although I found no pleasure in doing so. I still felt for the animals, to the point that I trained myself to be as fast as possible. I took her advice and prayed every time I hit them. My father began to pressure me to go after larger prey, but I resisted despite risking his wrath.

By summer, it became my new career. And for a while, it didn't seem so bad. Time passed for another year, until one day, as I was standing from a distance to deliver another kill shot, she passed out of nowhere and made me miss.

I was speechless, my eyes wide as she suddenly walked by and approached the animal. She gave me a hard look that I could never forget. Contrary to all instinct, the rabbit didn't run away and looked at its enemy as she calmly held it against her arm. I moved closer too, as I wondered if she was real. But she was...the same beauty as before. As if not a single day had passed.

—Why, Zenta-kun—, she finally said, —This is not you—.

The creature slowly reached for her hand and forgot about me. My heart, all the power I seemed to have gained was gone, and my limbs trembled without energy and without any resistance to her presence. All my thoughts began to rush trying to make sense.

—It makes the pain go away—, I said, not quite knowing how.

Her eyes began to look different, with a brighter spark than before.

—No, the pain just fell somewhere else—.

The animal backed away slowly as I dropped my bow. I was embarrassed, but also resentful of my fate. I was now unable to redeem myself from it after all this time.

—I waited for you... I did not want to...—.

My voice finally startled the animal, but she remained silent. Not bothering to respond to a sudden outburst, she simply approached with as much gentleness as a creature like me could understand.

—You're still sad, you're still lonely, I'm not the answer to that—.

—I did this for you, so that I could be here... I wasn't here... I—, she smiled softly.

—I don't deserve to be in your mind, you think you belong elsewhere... you think you're not worth loving or crying for; you're just another burden, but you choose to help others. I have never felt anything when talking to another person. I feel their pain, their sadness, but not mine. And you ... when did someone start telling their secrets just to gain something else's?—.

I couldn't help but look down at her words, impinging deeply on me as the cold breeze flowed around our heads. Her sweet smile never failed to increase my despair. Her tender body wrapped around mine like a blanket for what seemed longer than I deserved. I had never been hugged before.

—I heard all about you, Kuroki Zenta, you became stronger one minute, and weaker the next. I wish I could miss you too, can you forgive me for my negligence?—.

I couldn't help but feel some pity behind her tender embrace. I didn't understand what she meant, but her words were honest.

—I just wanted to see you, to be with someone—, I managed to say., —I'm not strong, brave, or smart. That's why I... that's why people are so mean to me…—.

She turned away once from my eyes silently, with only sadness that echoed and brought to light the memories of a previous life.

—I can see it's only your physical scars that have healed. I have nothing to offer you—.

His every word felt like a knife slicing through my spirit once again. My mind lost its balance and my thoughts began to go numb, only remaining in a silence that was only broken into fragments when she began to walk. Her face, as well as his whole expression, was indecipherable to me, until it gradually turned to confusion.

—Come, follow me—, she finally said, —I have not been fair—.

I obeyed immediately, avoiding thinking about the words she said before. Only after doing so did my feelings of despair begin to subside. I put down my arrows, carefully following in her footsteps. She remained silent for several minutes, letting only the soft voices of the forest guide his way. She seemed to be soothed by the pure scent of the grass and the soft wind gently ruffling his hair.

Even the high-pitched sounds of insects, coming from all the trees rustling in the distance, sounded like a lullaby for this day. She had walked a significant amount, despite the frail appearance of her body, when she stopped on a small hill that rose between several trees, reaching one that seemed too sturdy to be moved at all. A giant cedar set strong behind a tombstone-like rock that acted as a shelter.

She stopped just in front of it, contemplating its shape and looking deeply at how it seemed to dance in every blizzard.

—Isn't it beautiful? —. I just nodded, still unsure of how she felt about me.

Perhaps it would be better if I didn't speak to her. Every movement and mannerism seemed a delicate language; one only capable, by its grace, of communicating through her gaze. She managed to climb between the parts of the stem that merged with the ground, all the way to the top of the tree, like a ladder to a small balcony.

I followed his same technique and was suddenly amazed by such a find. A feeling that no one had ever touched that place before. As if I was entering a space from another dimension, where I was a bird nesting in the middle of thick foliage. We both sat facing each other, breathing that deep air that is only filled with our spirit.

—Did you find this?—.

—Yes, this is a gift for you—, she finally smiled again.

—I've never been here before. It's so peaceful—.

—I know, that's why I like it—.

For a moment, my fears dissipated. I wondered if I was the first person she had shown this to. But then came another unexpected gift; an ordinary piece of wood, carved with little skill but enough dedication. It had a message written on it, with Kanji I didn't know.

一 期 一 会

—This is my wish, my devotion, and my hope—, she said, holding it up, —It means "to make something unique out of every moment". To make everything something that could never be replicated. A small life in itself. Doing nothing if necessary; anticipation and regret must flow. All together, like water gushing from an ever-widening river—.

I was self-absorbed with the way she expressed herself; her thoughts are a shadow beneath an image of perfect youth. Even now, even a year later, it was as if everything that existed was a bad dream. This little existence, this tree, was the only reason things had meaning.

—Why are you showing me this?—, I said.

—Because you are still forbidden to live. Either by others or by yourself.

—I don't understand...—.

—Here, take it—, she held it next to me and closed his eyes.

—Now repeat: "I, Kuroki Zenta, swear by my pride that I will love this moment as I will love any other moment life has to offer"—, I closed my eyes too, and repeated.

—"I will neither fear nor resent the idea of not living, for even death seems so much more pleasant than a life without worry or sorrow"—.

We held that position for several seconds, then nodded in understanding. I smiled, and after a long time, I felt happy.

—Your promise has not yet been sealed. You must close your eyes one more time—.

At that moment I would do anything she said. Knowing that she cared about me would be enough to make whatever sacrifice I felt necessary to prove my loyalty. I remained expectant in such a way that after that there is nothing I remember so fondly. I could feel his hand encircling me just by how the wind moved so gently around my face.

—Open them—.

So I did, to see her eyes of happiness shining through me. A small necklace dangled in front of my chest. It was nothing more than a Kuroyuri flower, but still, its beauty shone all over the place. Its purple colors had a scent that was a mixture of mint and honey, wonderfully combined, dancing together under my touch.

—Now you will have no excuses. After today, your duty has become clear. All your troubles must be forgotten and you must never...—, I made her stop.

I was crying. How can something so good turn bittersweet so quickly? No, it wasn't that. Those tears were actually a form of gratitude. She reacted surprised at first but quickly understood my inner pain. Because at that moment I realized how little it took to feel some joy, and also how short-lived it can be. I was crying because I knew that at some point that day would end, my time with her and the unshakable peace in the forest would become a memory.

As if fate wanted her smile once again for me, the sweet vision became omnipresent and grew larger, searching for an invisible truth beyond words. I was no longer alone. I can talk about my childhood without fear of losing anything significant, but on that day, some of the darkest shadows faded into thin layers, while countless other new emotions blossomed and slowly emerged beneath my fragile being. I had someone who cared about me, someone who could protect me; someone who could love me.