They all yelled out thank you.
Hiro pointed at Kenji. “Keep in mind that this isnotthe Claws cocktail party. That will be a separate event tomorrow or the day after and it will be big and wonderful."
The Fangs groaned loudly.
Yoichi shook his head. "Oh, okay. Okay. Enough with you."
Kaoru scowled. “Seriously. No one fucking cares.”
Kenji sighed behind me. "Hiro. Put this to rest and leave it alone. She’s going to give you all that damn party."
Hiro shrugged. “I just wanted that to be known. This is not the Claws’ Party. We’re getting signature drinks and soul food inspired dishes.”
Reo frowned. “It’s been confirmed. Continue.”
Many started laughing while others poured sake into cups.
Next, Hiro's face went serious in a way I'd never seen before. All the playfulness was gone, replaced by something heavy and sad. "We lost many today."
Hiroko’s face flashed in my head and my heart broke all over again.
Hiro sighed. "We lost an amazing woman. Hiroko. She was strong, beautiful, and kind. She shouldn't be gone, but. . ."
My chest tightened so hard I could barely breathe.
People around the table bowed their heads respectfully.
Reo's eyes closed. His hand flattened against the table, and his fingers pressed into the wood like he was steadying himself against a current no one else could see.
I bowed mine too and felt tears start to burn behind my eyes.
Hiro started saying other names slowly and carefully. Other people who had died today that I didn't know but who had families waiting for them somewhere on the island. Men who would never come home again. Wives that were crying and holding their kids. Parents that would be devastated and unsure of how to bury their child.
My eyes clouded with tears that spilled over onto my cheeks.
Kenji pulled me in tighter against his chest and held me like he was trying to keep me from breaking apart.
Then they all said something together in Japanese that sounded like a prayer or a vow or both at once. Either way it was beautiful and soul shattering at the same time.
Kenji whispered, “Tora.”
I looked at him.
He gestured to my cup of sake.
I wiped away my tears and grabbed it.
They raised their cups high in the air.
I followed their lead.
More Japanese was spoken, and we all drank deeply.
And the sake burned like the grief had been burning me from the inside. Just like those hundreds of bodies in the pyre days ago.
Burning.
Scorching.
