But What Would It Be Without You?

Down they went and back into the van they climbed. A short drive later, they reached the shukubo, where a monk greeted them. It surprised Kureha, but she appreciated having a host.

“Come in, please,” said the monk as he beckoned them into the lodging.

The walls were simple and wooden. Tatami mats marked designated sleeping areas. Sliding doors divided the spaces from communal to private. A single shared restroom was at the end of the hall. The friends unpacked the van and made their way into the dwelling without speaking. All the while, the monk stood by. He seemed to be alone.

“Are we the only ones here?” asked Arata.

The monk nodded.

“My brethren made the sacrifice a few weeks ago, along with the many others around the world. I was chosen to stay behind in case any more visitors came along. You are my first guests in two weeks,” he said with a bow.

“Please let me know if you need anything,” said the monk.

Riku turned slightly.

“Can we stay here a few days?” he asked.

His eyes were tired. The question seemed as much for the friend group as the monk. No one objected. The pit in Kureha’s stomach grew and threatened to consume her. She set about unpacking her belongings to distract herself.

The monk nodded in agreement.

“We have a few items for dinner if you are hungry,” he said as he left the room.

Now that they were alone, something felt off within the friend group. Kai wanted to speak but couldn’t. No one moved. Kureha felt the pit inside of her growing even more. As she unzipped her bag, one of Riki’s manga slid out. Seeing it broke her resolve.

“Why do you want to leave us?” Kureha whimpered.

Everyone seemed simultaneously gracious and shocked that she asked. Riku shook his head.

“I don’t WANT to leave you. It will be better this way, though,” he replied without looking away.

“I’ll never forgive you,” she snarled in complete seriousness.

“Kureha…” Kai whispered.

“No! I won’t. Even if I die bitter and closed off. I won’t. When you leave people behind, it isn’t some simple break! I was never the same after my mom left! And look at all of us since our parents left!” Kureha shouted.

“Kureha, they are killing weak people in the streets in some countries. This is only getting worse as the end gets closer! What if you all need to run?! You can’t run with me still around! I will not let you all meet an even worse end because you are stuck with my stupid body!” Riku shouted back.

Shiona gasped at his words.

“Riku, that’s why you want to go?!” she cried.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly as he looked at her.

“I couldn’t even carry those kids the other day. I panicked and dropped my cane, and could barely crawl. What happens when something real and much worse comes?” he asked the group.

Kai blinked his eyes clear.

“I’ll carry you,” he pleaded.

Riku met his gaze.

“I’m strong enough. And Arata could help. We could…” Kai’s words stopped as he looked away.

“Please,” begged Riku.

His voice was desperately broken and yearning for release.

“You have no idea what it’s like to spend every day of your life feeling the burden you put on your family. On watching your friends run off without you out of excitement, and feeling lonely, but also wanting them to never stop running.”

Shiona wiped her eyes. Riku softened when he looked at her.

“But not you. You always hung back and walked with me. And you did too, Kureha, in the latter years. I am grateful for that but sorry you couldn’t run when you wanted. I want you to be able to all run again. Especially if it’s running for your lives,” he said in somber defeat.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll just kill myself with you,” Shiona said in utter resolution.

It startled Riku.

“No, you can’t do that…” he said.

Her gaze was icy.

“But you can because you have a better reason? All of our days are numbered, and my heart is full already from these weeks we’ve shared. But my heart will be shattered without you. If you truly plan to go through with this, I am going with you. Oblivion now or in a few months; it matters not to me,” Shiona said.

Kai nodded in agreement. The words terrified Kureha. It felt like the group was snapping in half. No matter what awaited, she wasn’t ready to die yet. Her light was not yet ready to be extinguished, but without her friends, it would fade substantially.

“Please don’t go,” was all she could whisper.

“Please,” added Rin.

Arata forced himself to speak.

“I love all of you. Please don’t leave us. Riku, please don’t go now,” he pleaded.

“You will all be fine without me. I was just a part of the whole. Kai and Kureha were the glue that always held us together. When Kureha’s mom left, and then Kai moved to Osaka, that’s when everything started to change. That’s when we drifted apart.”

Kai shook his head in frustration.

“Riku, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re smart about everything except yourself! There isn’t a glue, or one person that matters most. We are all equally important for different reasons! We need you as much as we need everyone else! Now, if you are at peace and want to leave, I will force myself to be accept it with time. But if you just want to leave because you are scared of being a burden, I will never accept that! And I’m with Kureha. I will never forgive you,” said Kai.

Arata and Rin nodded. Riku hesitated then finally looked to Shiona.

“Please,” was all she could mutter.

Tears ran down his face in frustrated exhaustion.

“I need time. I need some time to myself,” he replied as he picked up his bag and excused himself to another room. 

That was the last word anyone in the group spoke for several days.

Following the confrontation, the friends all spent the next week existing as human islands. Mornings were spent assisting the monk in tending to the temple facilities and trails. Riku took to hiking the Gassan path daily. Kai did as well but made sure to go at different times than his friend. Kureha found herself frequently alone with the monk.

Spending time with him was simultaneously relaxing and infuriating. Whereas he moved with lightness and reflection, Kureha felt heavy and exhausted. No matter how much she searched and prayed for peace, it never arrived.

“Why are we told our entire lives to just accept change and sorrow?” Kureha angrily asked the monk one morning as he stretched,

“Why Shikata Ga Nai? Why Hojoki? Why are we just expected to go along with sorrow after sorrow?!” she cried.

He started to speak and she realized she didn’t care.

“Actually, don’t answer. I don’t need a Dharma. I need someone else to fucking scream at the sky with me for once, even just fucking once,” she sighed.

The monk raised his eyebrows with a slight smile.

“Literally anyone but you, no offense,” she said as she rose to exit.

Even though Kureha knew he had wisdom and teachings that would likely help her find peace, and the concepts she had just attacked had helped millions of people find relief in a cruel, ever-changing world, Kureha’s heart held no room for their teachings that day. Her heart was cracking, and if she were to soon lose Riku, and maybe even Shiona, the break might be enough to destroy her.

So she decided to fall onto the mossy ground and weep. No one was around to comfort her, and to her surprise, she didn’t want them to find her. The sorrow that was pouring from her heart and eyes was hers alone, and as her sobs rattled from her tired ribs, she welcomed the long held grief in hopes that that might bring peace. Sadly, even after an hour of exhaustive cries, Kureha did not feel any better, and came to the realization she may never feel better again.