“I am sorry to hear that, Ono-san,” Hana said.
“Why?” Aritomo scratched his chin. “My wife was on her own journey and I am on mine. When her train arrived, she had to get on it. There is nothing to feel sorry for. I have lived a good life. I have been a son, a husband, and a father. To many of the people here, I am a friend. I have grown a garden and fed the hungry, and built a tent where strangers have found rest.What more can a man ask for? Arriving at one’s destination is never promised. Only the journey is. Waiting is part of that journey.”
Keishin nodded slowly. “You are a wise man, Ono-san.”
Aritomo shook his head. “Not wiser than any of those who wait here. We have been blessed with the time to think. It has allowed us to realize that life is about finding joy in the space between where you came from and where you are going. I may never get to where I want to go, but I can look back on my life and say that I did not waste a second of it being bitter that I was not someplace else. Happiness does not exist in a place. It lives in every breath we take. You need to choose to take it in, over and over again.”
Aritomo’s words warmed Keishin more than the bonfire did, finding and filling empty spaces he didn’t know he had. “I am grateful that I met you.”
“There is no need to thank me. I have met all sorts of people over my years at this train station. Some pass through quickly, some stay for a while. Everyone I have ever encountered, no matter how brief, has either taken something or left something behind. Rude people can rip the smile from your face. Kind ones can give it back. I have learned that there is nothing to be gained from stealing other people’s happiness. No matter how much you have stolen, it is not something that you can ever use for yourself.”
—
Hana lay curled against Keishin, molded into his chest. “Could you be happy here? Could a vegetable garden on a train station’s platform make you as happy as your neutrinos and stars?”
Keishin rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. “As much as Iwould like to pretend to be as wise as Aritomo, I know that I couldn’t be content here.”
“Why?” Hana turned to face him.
“Because I refuse to break my promise to you, Hana. We will find your parents one way or another. I don’t care how far away the field is, how difficult it is to get there, or how many Shiikuin chase after us. We will find them.”
“I’m sorry,” a woman sharing the tent with them whispered to Hana. She pulled her dark hair from her tanned face and coiled it into a loose bun. “I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation.”
“I…I apologize for waking you,” Keishin stammered.
“You said that you are looking for your parents?” the woman said. “And that the Shiikuin are looking for you?”
Hana paled.
“Don’t worry. I can keep your secret. My name is Keiko. I am no friend of the Shiikuin. I know how cruel they can be. I lost my father to them. He was sick and had fallen asleep at his stall at the Night Market, and the Shiikuin chased him into the river for it.”
“I’m sorry,” Keishin said, remembering the story that Hana had told him.
“There is another way than by train to get to where you are going,” Keiko said.
“There is?” Hana said. “But the map told us that—”
“No map would suggest this manner of travel,” Keiko said. “It is spoken of only in the darkest corners of the Night Market, and only by the most desperate.”
“Why?” Keishin said.
“Because people believe it to be shameful anddishonorable,” Keiko said. “But if the lives of those I loved depended on it, I do not think that I would care about honor.”
“Neither would I,” Hana said. “It is only a matter of time before the Shiikuin find us here. We do not have the luxury of waiting for our train.”
Keiko nodded. “The Forbidden Way will take you wherever you need to go, but it will not be easy.”
“We will do it,” Hana said. “When can we leave?”
“Soon. There is something that both of you must do first.”
“What must we do?” Keishin said.
“Drink.”
Chapter Forty-five
The Third Bottle of Sake
