Chapter 29  The Last Walk

The ashes blew over the man, desperately scrabbling through the pile of rubble.

He was covered in ash, and his eyes were bloodshot, but he would not stop looking, until he had found her.

Finally, he saw a red shoe peeking out from under a fallen plank.

From beneath the plank, a hand stretched, motionless, blackened, its flesh charred, the red nail varnish chipped, and cracked, on the broken fingernails.

He lifted the plank and pushed it aside.

It was her.

A sob rose in his throat.

"Hina," he said. "Hina."

She did not answer.

He took her wrist, and felt a pulse.

Hope surged in him.

He lifted her carefully, and cradled her in his arms.

"Hold on, Hina."

He carried her past Eugene, searching through the pile of bodies in the rubble.

"I have found Hina," he said. "Look for Ae Shin."

Eugene nodded, his face pale and anxious.

Dong Mae walked down the alley.

Hold on, Hina, he whispered, hold on.

Every door shut quietly the moment they saw him approach.

The tailor was standing at the door of his shop, and saw Dong Mae approach with the woman cradled in his arms.

The tailor beckoned to Dong Mae, and ushered him into the shop.

"She saved me," he said.

Carefully, Dong Mae laid her down on the bed.

He wiped her wounds gently, with a damp cloth, soaked in water from a pan.

The water turned red.

He tried to staunch the blood, but it was futile.

She stirred.

He smoothed back her hair.

She opened her eyes.

"Gu Dong Mae," she breathed. "You came back."

He took her hands, and kissed them.

"I came back."

She was breathing fast, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"The tailor has gone to get the accupuncturist," he said. "We cannot take you to the hospital because it is heavily guarded by Japanese soldiers."

"It is no use," she sighed. "My body is a wreck."

He fought to keep his voice steady.

"You are as beautiful as ever," he said.

"Gu Dong Mae, are you flirting with me again?" she smiled weakly.

"Take me to my mother's grave," she said. "Give me opium, enough of it, to last till we reach it."

He reached down to take the red shoe from her foot.

"Leave it," she breathed. "Is it not pretty? I bought new shoes specially for the celebration."

"It is beautiful," he said, her foot.

"Flatterer," she laughed weakly.

"Will you take a walk with me?" she said. "Will you walk with me one last time, and hold my hands?"

He nodded, because the tears had choked his throat, and he could not speak.

Dong Mae walked slowly along the shore, with Hina on his back.

The waves lapped at his feet.

Once upon a time, they had walked like this, when she had drunk too much, and he had carried her on his back up a dark alley, and she had snuggled into his warmth, and fallen asleep on his back.

He gazed into the distance, and continued to walk, putting one foot ahead of the other.

"The sea is beautiful," she murmured, turning her face on its side to gaze at the shimmering water that stretched into the great unknown. "It will be even more beautiful in winter."

"Winter is not for a long time yet," he said.

"I love winter," she sighed. "It is my favourite season."

She moaned a little, and his heart lurched.

"I think I fell in love with you when the first snow fell," she closed her eyes, remembering how they had stayed locked in an embrace on that cold, wintry night, when the snow had fallen in sheets around them, and he had thrown his head back, and laughed, like a wild, beautiful, mythical god.

"We held hands, and walked in the snow. Do you remember?"

"I remember," he said, and a swell of wind suddenly rose, and the spray of sea water mingled with the salt of his tears.

"The American came back," he said.

"I am glad," she said. "Shake his hand for me when you see him."

"I will," he said.

"I waited for you all this time," she breathed. "My foolish heart hoped, and waited, even though I knew that it was Go Ae Shin that lived in your heart."

"I waited for you, even though you were a madman, besotted with love for her."

She laughed a little, and winced, and Dong Mae's tears flowed silenty, as he treaded on the sand, plodding with steady, determined steps, not faltering, not even once, his sandals leaving a trail of imprints behind him, marking the path that they had taken, as they continued their long, painful journey onward.

"I will not wait for you, not until the next winter; so until then, live on," she sighed, her voice so soft that he could hardly hear it.

He gazed unseeingly into the distance, his eyes b with tears, and fought for control.

"I am so very, very sleepy," she whispered, her voice a thin, feeble thread, her breaths coming in jagged gasps, as she sagged heavily against his back.

Dong Mae sobbed aloud, the tears wrenched from his throat.

"We are almost there, my darling; do not sleep yet."

There was no answer.

"Yan Hwa," he called, in desperation. "Lee Yan Hwa."

He faltered, and stopped.

"I have something to tell you - ," he cried.

Her head lolled to the side.

He stood in the sand, frozen, his body shaking with deep, wrenching sobs.

He howled.

It was a howl of a man in anguish, whose heart has been torn and ripped apart.

I died with you, Yan Hwa.

I died today, here, now.

Still weeping, he righted her, and with one hand, gently laid her head again against his neck.

"Sleep on, my lovely," he whispered. "Sleep all that you want. We will be there soon."

And he trudged on, a lone, lonely figure, carrying his precious burden, her cold hands gripped tightly in his, as if he would never let go, as they walked together for the last time; the final walk of their lives.

He went to the dojo the next morning.

They were all there, the members of the Musin Society.

They looked at him in incredulous shock as he slid open the sliding doors.

He drew his sword, and ran at them, slashing at them without mercy, until every last man lay dead upon the floor.

"Ten more days," Dong Mae mused, slumped against the wall, above which a painting hung. 

Ten more days, and they would be back.

"I will live ten days as if they were a year," he said, and lifted his eyes to where Hina had hung the painting of a beach on the wall.

"Ten more days, and I will see you again," he whispered.

He had realized how much he loved her the night the hotel exploded, and seen her running out with Ae Shin, seen her fly into the air with the force of the explosion.

He had thought of her, and not Ae Shin, when the explosion happened.

He had almost gone mad with despair searching for her, clawing at the rubble with his bare hands in a frenzy, desperately pulling bodies off one another, to find her.

He had sobbed with relief, and dread when he found her.

He had never been afraid of anything in his life; but he had felt a terrible, terrible fear in every fibre of his being  when he held up her wrist with his trembling hands, frantically searching for a pulse.

When he felt the faint throbbing beneath his fingers, he had almost collapsed with the relief.

He had always loved her, and he had not known it, until it was too late.

You poor, poor fool, he whispered, passing a weary hand over his clammy brow.

You fell in love with an illusion, while the reality was standing next to you, all this time, waiting for you.

For he saw it now, so clearly; it was as if the mists had cleared from his head, and he saw the truth spilling out, blinding him with its clarity.

Ae Shin had been the illusion.

She had saved his life, and in return, he had devoted the entirety of his life to her, and had given her the whole of his heart and his soul.

She had been everything to him; he had lived, and breathed, because of her.

But she had been just an ideal of the perfect woman, more abstract than form, perfect in every way; unattainable.

Forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, he thought wryly. Was that why he was so obsessed with her, so fixated on his feelings for her, unable to move forward, forever rooted to that moment in time, when she had saved him in the carriage, unable to move beyond that moment, forever frozen in limbo, yearning for a love so impossible that it had become greater than any other love?

For any other love would pale in comparison, any other love would be deemed lesser, and could never hold up against the grandeur and the splendour of an impossible, unattainable love.

He put his head in his hands, and wept for the foolishness of his illusion that had blinded him to the true reality of the deep, abiding love that had always been by his side.

She had understood him, and accepted him for who he was, and what he did, and why he did what he did; she had understood perfectly, quietly; in his foolishness, he had not recognized her for who she was: a kindred spirit, his soulmate; she had bared her heart to him, and like a fool, he had spurned her love for an illusion.

Dong Mae bowed his head in grief, and wept, for the wasted past, and for love found, and lost, too soon.

Eugene, Dong Mae and Hee Sung were at the bar.

"I will pay for the drinks," Hee Sung said, beaming. "It is good to see my old friends again."

He peered at Dong Mae.

"I heard that you were not well," he said.

"That is because I am looking at you," Dong Mae said surlily.

Hee Sung turned his attention to Eugene.

"You do not seem to be as well as the last time I saw you," he said.

"That is because I went to prison for three years, and am no longer a soldier," Eugene said grumpily.

"You seem well enough," Dong Mae glared at Hee Sung.

"I cannot but agree with you," Eugene said, scowling at Hee Sung.

"Kudo Hina died," Dong Mae said, his hands tightening around the glass.

"She was a great lady," Hee Sung said softly.

"The bravest," said Eugene.

The three men raised a toast silently to her.

"Ae Shin lives, but she is in pain, and relies on painkillers," Eugene said.

"Take care of her," Dong Mae said.

"She is in good hands," Hee Sung said, and smiled, a little sadly, at Eugene.

"I will protect her to the end of my days," Eugene said.

The three men raised a toast, their final toast, to one another.

Dong Mae and Eugene walked together in the dark, moonless night.

"You are not well," Eugene said, as Dong Mae started to cough, dry racking coughs that shook his thin frame.

"Does the opium help?" Eugene asked.

"I see that nothing escapes your eye," Dong Mae smiled.

A wave of dizziness overcame him, and he fought to remain conscious.

Eugene helped Dong Mae into bed.

"Do not look so sad," Dong Mae said. "I will live - for the next ten days, anyway."

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Eugene asked.

"My body is broken," Dong Mae said.

He extended a hand to Eugene.

"She wanted me to shake your hand," he said.

The two men shook hands, and there was a deep sadness in both of their eyes.

Dong Mae sat at the teahouse, and waited.

It was the fifteenth of the month.

He wondered whether she would come.

It was almost closing time; he got up to leave, just as the server came, and laid a coin upon the table.

"It is from him," he said.

Dong Mae looked up.

It was Ae Shin.

She walked to him, and stood, dressed in black, with a hat pulled low over her face.

He took the coin, and said, "This is your last payment; you do not need to come to meet me anymore."

They looked at each other.

"I will take my leave, then," she said.

He bowed to her.

"I once told you not to fly too high, for fear that you might fall; but I was wrong," he said. "Fly high, my lady; fly high above the clouds, and soar."

She smiled.

"What you said, all those years ago, that I was a noble fool living in a fool's paradise," she paused, remembering, "They haunted me; the words that you spoke haunted me."

She bowed to him, and walked away.

She had been affected by his cruel words, and he did not know why, but it made him feel happy that he had left a lasting impression on her. The butcher's son had left a mark on the noble lady permanently, and it made him feel glad, somehow.

He smiled to himself.

Dong Mae stood at the dock, and waited.

The ship docked, and a group of men descended from it; they were dressed in black, and carrying swords.

They came to a halt when they saw the man standing in their path.

"You came a day late," Dong Mae said.

"We have a surprise for you," the leader of the men said.

The men dragged a bruised and battered body to where Dong Mae was standing.

It was Yujo who lay there, dead, his face covered with dried blood, his body broken.

"He combed the length and breadth of Japan, looking for you," the leader laughed.

Dong Mae clenched his fists.

He drew his sword, and swung at them

I will take as many as I can with me, he thought.

I will take as many as I can, before I fall.

He fought with all of his might, but his weakened body was no longer what it used to be, and he faltered, and a sword came from behind, and slashed at him.

He fell.

He lay on the ground with his eyes open.

It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining, and there was not a single cloud in the sky.

It was a beautiful day to die.

He drew his last breath, and smiled.

A great peace descended upon him, and lifted him up.

He was floating, disembodied, watching his body from a great height.

He saw them tie his hands and bind his feet with ropes, and pull.

He saw them drag his broken, battered body across the stones, and the dirt.

From high atop the bridge, he watched them parade his body through the streets.

He turned.

It was not important any longer.

None of it mattered anymore.

He turned, and saw her, standing in the distance.

She was waiting for him.

He felt joy flood through his being, and lightness gladden his heart.

He ran to her, young and strong and free.

She held out her arms, and he fell into them.

"You came," she said, smiling.

"I would have come sooner, but I had to wait for ten, nay, eleven days, to pass," he said, laughing boyishly, with the exuberance and the exhiliration of youth.

"You said that you would not wait for me," he held her to him, and laid his face tenderly against hers.

"I lied," she laughed, throwing back her head.

She was so beautiful that his breath caught in his throat, and he was moved to tears.

"I thought that I would never see you again," he said, tears running down his face. "When you died, I died, as well."

"I know," she said softly, caressing his face tenderly.

"I loved her, in that other world," he said, holding her hands tightly, "I loved her all of my life, but when the hotel exploded, and I could not find you, I realized - I realized that it was you that I love, but I was too blind, too foolish to see it, until it was too late, and I wanted to tell you that it was you that I love, but it was too late, for you had left me." He was crying, weeping brokenly.

"Hush," she said, soothingly. "I know; I understand perfectly."

She drew him to her, and wiped away his tears with her palms, and held him close.

"My dear, my love, my Dong Mae."

"My darling, my love, my Yan Hwa."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," he said tenderly, smiling through his tears, and held her close.

They walked away slowly into the horizon, hand in hand, smiling at each other.