Chapter Fifteen - Hiroshima

                I had hoped the trip to Hiroshima would be one of rest and relaxation. Given my currently tempestuous state of mind I felt I could desperately use some mindless sightseeing. Of course, I knew that wouldn’t be the case. Most of the trip would be an elaborate punishment game set up by Ichikawa Sensei as revenge for the years of hell he’d endured at the hands of his students. While, selfishly, I hated it, I also couldn’t begrudge him this minor victory. We had emerged, stiff-legged and staggering under the weight of our luggage into the station and had been whisked away by bus toward the hotel we were staying in.

The bus, however, proved to be unreliable and had broken down on the side of the highway. After another bus had been dispatched, we finally reached the hotel. For those hoping for a miracle of modern technology and comfort the hotel was most likely a terrible shock. For me it was simply another piece in the puzzle of Ichikawa’s revenge tour. The hotel was old and looked very much like the hopes and dreams of the proprietors was the only thing holding the building together. It was decorated in the traditional Japanese style, so our rooms ended up being an open room some distance from the only bathroom the floor had. The Tatami mats were old and smelled of mold and the meager furnishings consisted of two aging bedside tables lost and alone without the bed to be beside and a table lamp made of flaking yellow porcelain in the shape of a fish.

For the rest of that day and the one following we were dragged from war memorial to war memorial, finally ending at the crown jewel of Ichikawa Sensei’s master plan, The Genbaku Dome. The tour and grounds were appropriately reverent of the carnage caused all around it. The skeletal done still thrust into the overcast sky and the wreckage of the rest of the building or buildings surrounding it lay scattered all around. Amidst the surrounding modern buildings, it stood out; a moment frozen in time, standing tall somehow against the ravages of a incalculably horrid weapon who’s only purpose was to kill as many people as possible and lay waste to the lives of those unfortunate enough to survive.

Ichikawa sensei added his own layers of drama and melancholy to the tour, describing in graphic detail the horrid tragedies for those left alive after the bomb. The starvation, slavery, gangs, disappearances and eventually cancer, health problems and shunning which had gone on following August 6th, 1945. It was thoroughly, utterly, and painfully depressing. For the rest of the second day we shuffled silently from place to place around the Peace Gardens, solemnly listening to the tales of those who died and those who wished they had.

Finally, on the third and final day, the fifth since I’d heard anything from Aria (not that I was counting, of course) were we finally given free rein to have some time to ourselves. Taking the chance to escape from under the oppressive aura of Ichikawa Sensei’s morbid thumb we spread out like wildfire through the city.

“Excuse me!” A voice called from behind us. Emi and I turned to find a pretty, older Korean woman staggering toward us in what appeared to be exhaustion. We waited patiently as she paused, hands on her knees and breathing heavily, one finger held up as if to ask for a moment. Finally, she straightened with a noticeable wince and smiled. “Are you local?”

“Eh?” Emi and I asked.

“I am Korean!” She waved her arms wildly as if to graphically express the fact she wasn’t from around here. “I am run in Korea! I have God!” Plainly her Japanese wasn’t as bad as my Korean (which was non-existent) but Emi and I still stepped back a pace as if to afford ourselves an escape if she went crazy. The last thing I needed on my one and only day of freedom was a religious nutjob trying to convert me. I was barely Shinto, I thought, why should I fail at a completely new religion when I can continue to suck at the one I already had?

“Where do you have her?” Emi asked, popping another Takoyaki into her mouth. Mizuki and Momoka had wandered off in search of tea for Mizuki’s mom and had left the two of us to buy food and drinks.

“No!” The woman smiled warmly, waving her arms. I glanced at the little white sticker attached to her shirt. Hello! It read. My name is Minji Song, Sehwa Girls Academy! A student? I thought. Though she was quite beautiful, she didn’t seem young enough to be a student. Perhaps a teacher? “I have God I lost!”

“Oh! Emi grinned, yet another Takoyaki disappearing into the endless pit that was Emi’s stomach. “Good, then!” What the hell was Emi talking about?

“Lost and looking! Small people?” The woman put her hand at the level of her hip to indicate…dwarves?

Emi finished chewing her Takoyaki before launching into a language I could only assume was Korean. The woman’s face brightened noticeably, and she grabbed Emi’s free hand in hers, gratitude flooding her face. The woman and Emi carried on quite a lively conversation for a few moments before Emi smiled broadly and pointed to the southwest where we’d come from. The woman thanked us and bowed deeply before hurrying off in the direction Emi’d indicated.

“Where’d you learn Korean?” I asked after the woman had rushed off. Emi offered the plate of crispy fried batter balls to me and I snatched one gratefully.

“My grandma loves Korean dramas, so I picked up a little,” Emi shrugged. “We should sit down. My legs hurt.” Following Emi’s lead, I sat next to her, the green water flowing beneath the Enko Bridge burbling happily below the din of cars and busses passing by. I took a proffered Takoyaki and stared up at the cloudy sky, my breath puffing out in the cold air. My lungs felt strange, I thought, like they weren’t getting enough oxygen and I coughed, trying to clear my throat to no avail.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander for the first time since arriving in Hiroshima. I’d been purposely drowning myself in the sights and sounds and newness of Hiroshima and the trip, successfully pushing the multitude of confusing feelings and emotions aside and replacing them with living in the moment. Here, sitting within the bustling city my will gave way finally and everything rushed back in like a high tide.

She hadn’t contacted me since before we left. What was I supposed to make of that? Should I have contacted her first? Should I have brushed aside my frustration and anger and bitten the bullet, so to speak, and contacted her? The idea of swallowing my pride and reaching out didn’t sit well with me. Yes, I was stubborn. Yes, I could have been over-reacting, but I didn’t think the responsibility was mine to make the first move toward whatever reconciliation I wanted. Of course, I was the one who wanted one so should I be the one to make the first move? I gritted my teeth as my thoughts spun round and round in my head like a CD, looping repeatedly.

“What’s up, Kasumin?” Emi asked, stretching her thin legs straight out in front of her in a bid to stretch her sore muscles out.

“What do you mean?” I feigned ignorance, staring at the buildings towering around me.

“I am a smart person,” Emi declared, chewing earnestly. She paused as if trying to remember what she was talking about. She finally seemed to remember what it was and continued. “I can tell something’s bothering you. Is it because this trip has been depressing?” I shook my head no. “Are you hungry?”

“Nothing’s bothering me!” I huffed. “Let’s just go find Mizuki.”

“Is it Aria?” Emi was staring at me intently.

“No. Yes.” I sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You’ll feel better if you talk,” Emi prodded gently. “Like my mom always says, ‘Emi, you can’t pour sugar on everything.’ Ha. Joke’s on you, you old hag. I can and I will!” She clenched her fist in some imagined triumph.

“What?” I gazed at her, trying to figure out what point she was trying to make.

“What?” She stared at me impassively, popping another Takoyaki into her mouth for emphasis. I sighed and shook my head as the city rushed past me. What was I even thinking trying to talk to Emi about any of this?

“It’s not a big deal,” I shook my head slightly to clear it. “It’s my own weird problem and I’ll get over it.”

“It’s because of what she said at my birthday, huh?” Emi phrased it as a question, but it most certainly was a statement. “She didn’t get what she should have been apologizing for, right?” I stared at her in surprise for a moment before slowly nodding. “You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” I waved my hands as if to ward off her assumption. “Whaat? What are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious,” Emi fixed me with a steady gaze and popped another of the rapidly dwindling Takoyaki into her mouth.

“What is?” I mumbled, playing with my fingernails absently.

“I’ve been watching you for two years, now, Kasumin,” Emi replied.

“That’s…kinda creepy” I frowned.

“Right?” Emi giggled.

“It doesn’t gross you out?”

“Eh? What grosses me out?”

“That I…” I hated when she was like this. I shouldn’t have to say it out loud. “…you know…”

“What?” Emi cocked her head to the side, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun which had decided to make a brief appearance at that moment, bursting through the clouds.

“That I’m a…lesbian,” I finally sighed, saying the word out loud for the first time. It felt awkward and strange, like putting on a coat for the first time I wasn’t entirely sure fit.

“Are you going to infect me with lesbian cooties?” Emi asked, staring at my face intently.

“Probably not, no,” I replied.

“Will you rape me in the bath?” Emi continued.

“Maybe,” I grinned at her. Emi popped another snack into her mouth and glanced skyward in contemplation.

“I’d be ok with that,” she said with a smile. “Look, Kasumin is Kasumin. Whether you like girls or boys or robots or…well, not robots. That’s not ok. I saw this anime where there were these girls fighting in giant robots and I thought; ‘maybe they’re giant sex robots’, but that doesn’t seem ok to me. Robots need to be given sentience first. I mean, they need to be able to consent, right? Otherwise, that’s weird, you- “

“You’re losing focus, Emi,” I pointed out.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” Emi waved her free hand breezily. “Anyway, who cares if you like girls. At the end of the day, you can’t help what you like, right?”

“Thank you,” I dropped my head and sighed. I knew Emi would support me. Mizuki probably would, too. But Emi would never look at me differently, whereas Mizuki might for a bit and I didn’t want that. I could handle most things, I thought, but to be looked at like a freak of nature wasn’t something I was prepared to deal with. Especially from Mizuki.

Of course, I could be wrong about Mizuki. She’d always supported me in whatever I did, but things like sex usually left her uncomfortable. Especially if it was sex outside of the norm. She would one day have sex, I supposed, hopefully not with Yuto. Please, God, let it not be with Yuto. The very idea of that creature coupling with anything made me nauseous. But, for Mizuki, it would probably always be something she did for someone else, not for herself and I seriously doubted whether she’d be able to wrap her mind around the idea of two girls being together sexually.

“No need to thank me,” Emi shrugged. “You do need to talk to her, though, Kasumin.”

“I knowww,” I whined, kicking my foot against the sidewalk in frustration. “What would I even say?”

“Hmmm,” Emi tapped a finger on her lower lip. “Just be you. You’ve been you for a long time. You know you better than anyone. The thing you can’t do is let the things bothering you fester. Every manga I’ve ever read goes like that. Things start out twitchy, then they draw closer, then there’s a misunderstanding or, if the mangaka’s really twisted, a bunch of them and in like five pages everything’s off the rails and the friends get caught in the wash and soon there’s armed camps and then some portal opens from another dimension and there are giant slime lizards pouring through with the burning need to wipe out humanity and the friends can’t do anything since they aren’t friends anymore. Talk to her, Kasumin. For humanity’s sake. I don’t want to be a giant slime lizard’s pet.”

“What?” I stared at her, dumbfounded. What the hell kind of mangas are she reading?

“What?” She replied. I scowled.

“We did this before.” I pointed out.

“I’m just saying, if you don’t talk to her, we’ll all get eaten by the lizard queen,” Emi finished. She held her arms out wide and I smiled, letting her fold me in her embrace. “Good girl. Good girl.” She petted my hair while popping another Takoyaki into her mouth with her free hand. I smiled, her warmth and oddness surrounding me like a blanket.