The book Minato gave me proved…interesting. On the nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d light a small candle and study it. The visuals and text were incredibly detailed and it humored me to think that at one time, Minato’s father had spent late nights reading the same thing. This night, I came across another picture of the female genitalia. Glad that I was alone because this night I couldn’t help sliding my hand down below my waist as I read.

*** 

    “The woman is a mysterious creature. Folklore has it that she was created from the tears of Amateratsu. From the beginning of time, the woman has been regarded as representative of the spirit world, conduit, and mediator between the realm of the living and dead, and carriers of fertility. It is this fertility that we will discuss now.” His eyes fell to the drawing of the genitalia. He’d never truly taken the time to look at it before. In the past, he’d pried open legs and shoved his cock in, no questions asked or observations made. But, taking the time now, he lamented that he hadn’t appreciated it before. It was strangely aesthetic.

     The flesh on each side of the slit appeared puffy and hairless, the cluster of hairs gathered at the top of the mound. Legs spread, and the fleshy pink inner lips traveled from the top of the mound down to just before what appeared to be the anus. There clearly drawn was a bud of some sort, varying in size from tiny to about the size of his thumb. Down his eyes took in the spread open hole, fleshy and pink. Inviting. Licking his lips, he read the next section.

***  

    “Pleasuring the woman is not a quick endeavor. You must have patience. To make things pleasing for you, the orifice must be extremely moist. To stimulate the genitalia, follow the steps below. 

    1. The bud at the top of the slit is a highly sensitive area. When touched or licked, it causes extreme pleasure to the woman. While it is easy to go there first, sometimes it can feel unpleasant and unwelcome by the female. Start around the seed. Kiss the flesh, caress it, however you please. It is best to start lightly and build up pressure.”  The thought of licking it made his cock throb and there his hand went, going to stroke himself. 

    2. Take your time. Should you not wish to wait, the woman should please you with her hands. Have patience. Enjoy her. 

    3. Use your fingers. Be attentive to her breath, sounds, and the way she moves her body.

*** 

    He wanted to fill up her little hole with his fingers and stretch it out, prepare it for his hungry cock. The thought made his breath catch in his throat and he let go of his shaft, the urge to cum cutting his belly open. Panting, he glanced down at the pitiful bastard as it twitched and bobbed, wanting more. 

    4. Explore the rest of her body. The woman will reveal where she likes to be touched best. Listen. 

    Inhaling deeply, he blew out his breath and turned the page. Fuck him. The head of an erect dick pressed against the flesh of the depicted slit. 

    5. When you have satisfied her, she will be willing to welcome you inside her. It is at this time that her yin energy is at its highest and it seeks to devour your yang. A spiritual exchange is to happen. Once you enter into the orifice, intense light and pleasure will overwhelm you. This is when your energies mingle and conjoin. As you move your bodies against one another, you both seek enlightenment together. She the conduit, the gateway shall lead and guide you closer and closer. When pleasure has reached the pinnacle, your yang energy will flood her holy portal and it will tightly grasp you, absorbing your offering. 

    What a ride his imagination had taken and in his mind, he came inside of her, holding her still as he filled her, her moans sweet and clear. Without warning, he ejaculated with a surprised grunt, his head tossed back. Breath hard and uneven, he bit his lip as spurt after spurt of semen shot upward only to dirty his skin as it splattered wetly against his stomach and chest. Trying to catch his breath, he hummed quietly, eyes closed.

    “Fucking woman,” He whispered to himself, a tiny smirk teasing his mouth. 

    *** 

    The shunga definitely helped me develop my technique and deepen my appreciation for the female body. I no longer would view it as a useless object to get me off. Beatrice’s pleasure mattered to me and I was very dedicated to learning newer and better ways of maintaining her satisfaction. 

    When morning came, I woke up before the crack of dawn. My sleep the past few nights had been shit and all throughout the night, I’d dreamt of my birth home crumbling into pieces or being lit on fire. It gave me chills and I’d wake up with tears hugging the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t let my family home be destroyed. I’d sell my soul before I let that happen. Lucky for me, Minato was also awake, meditating. When finished, he turned toward me. 

*** 

    “Long night, Ichiro-kun?” Hair messy, he frowned, his entire body unhappy.  

    “You could say that.”

    “The morning blood flow. Guess that means someone’s healthy.” 

    “Fuck off and stop looking at it.” Minato chuckled and with a sigh, lifted his arms above him in a stretch. 

    “You look like you have a lot on your mind.” 

    “Your mystical buddha tell you that?” 

    “No, common sense did. The bags under your eyes are horrible.”  

    “So is your face.” He shot back, voice sour. 

    “What are you going to do about it?” Minato asked, exhaling as a bone popped. 

    “Beatrice. Can she stay here with you?” Opening one of his eyes, he let his arms fall down to his sides. 

    “No, we’re going to take her to Yoshiwara.” Probably not the best joke because his entire face darkened and the look in his eyes sent a chill through him. 

    “Calm down, Ichiro. I’m just joking.” He didn’t budge and the man now rolled his neck. 

    “She’s welcome to stay here as long as she likes.” 

    “Good.”

    “How long will you be away? Whatever is on your mind sounds like it will take a while.”  He reached for his prosthesis. 

    “I’m going to my family home.” Understanding, Minato swallowed. 

    “I see.” A knock disrupted their conversation. 

    “It’s Beatrice.” The two men glanced at each other. Closing his robe tighter, he cleared his throat. 

    “Come in.” Sliding back the shoji, she peeked her head in. 

    “Am I interrupting?” 

    “If you were, I wouldn’t have told you to come in.” Pursing her lips, she came in and closed the door behind her. She’d put on a sleeping robe to cover her shoulders and body. To his gratitude because she also wore a light and flowy nightgown. Coming in, she plopped down next to him. 

    “Oh, good. You haven’t put it on yet.”

    “Beatrice,”

    “I keep telling you you have to clean it every day.” Her eyes turned to Minato’s humored ones. 

    “Minato, could you please bring me warm soapy water, a rag, and some gauze if you have it?” 

    “Of course.” Leaving them alone, he felt his heart thump hard against his chest. This would make the second time she’d been here when he had a hard-on and he was convinced she just had an affinity for it. He supposed it served her right. It was all her fault, anyhow. 

    “How’d you sleep, sugar?” She asked, reaching now to move his robe up a bit. 

    “Fine,” He answered, watching intensely as she slid hands around the stump carefully. 

    “Don’t lie.” She answered back, glancing up at him briefly before back at her task. It was obvious, it was there and still, she worked around it. 

    “Like shit.” He chose to answer honestly, inhaling deeply as she unwound the gauze.     

    “Me too.” At last, the last of it was removed and she blinked at the pinkish red staining the end of it. 

    “Ichiro,”

    “It does that sometimes. It doesn’t hurt.” Worried, she took a breath. 

    “Yes, it does. It keeps you up at night. That’s why you can’t sleep.” She answered, brushing the sensitive skin with her fingertips. He inhaled sharply. 

    “You don’t have to pretend. It’s just us.” He swallowed the truth and reached down, laying his hand on top of hers. Their combined heat soothed his residual limb. In the pale morning light and cool breeze, they shared a kiss, one of greeting and longing. He wanted more, she knew it by the way his lips lingered. But she pulled away. 

    “Here you are, Ms. Beatrice.”

    “Thank you, Minato.”

    “No problem.” Shoji once more shut she went to work, wringing out the warm soapy rag. Hands now away, she was able to take her time and clean the scar tissue, still leaking blood after three years. Not too much now to cause concern but it definitely confused her. He was all healed up so there was no reason for him to bleed after all this time. 

    “I’m going to leave today.” 

    “Where are we going?”

    “You won’t be coming with me. Not yet.” That got her attention. 

    “Mind explaining?” 

    “It’s something I have to do. As the only son.”

    “Your family.” He nodded, watching her fingers now pat the skin dry. Smiling, she grabbed the gauze now. 

    “I understand.” Silent now, she softly hummed as she wrapped. 

    “How long?” 

    “Six months to a year.” Her hands stilled. 

    “That long?” 

    “I haven’t been home since my departure in 1937. My mother was there three years ago. It’s been vacant now for that long.” She began to wrap again. 

    “I will not let my ancestral home be destroyed or neglected. It’s my responsibility to care for it.” 

    “I know…” She had more to say but she bit it off with her teeth. 

    “It’s also my responsibility to prepare a place for my wife.” Lifting her gaze, he laid his palm against her cheek. 

    “I want to bring you home. To our real home.” Her eyes grew misty with tears but she dared not shed them. Pressing her cheek into his palm, she just closed her eyes and gave a single nod. 

    “When it’s ready, I’ll come to get you.”

    “Are we going to wait till then? To get married?” 

    “We’ll marry you guys right now if you want.” The two of them jumped and turned to see Minato, Etsuko, and Auntie Junko all at the door, eyes peeking in. 

    “Get the fuck out!” He growled, making Minato and Junko jump up. 

    “I’m just saying…” Etsuko’s last word before closing the shoji, her laughter fading down the hall. She mirrored the nosey woman and started laughing. Leaning forward, she pressed her face against his chest. Weak now, he allowed a smile to soften his face and wrapped arms around her. Pulling her down against the bed, he watched as she caught her breath and lifted a hand to wipe her eyes. Cheeks warm, she looked up at him, his arm sliding across her waist. 

    “I must give and bring honor to my parents. I have to do everything properly. No matter how much I want you to be my wife now.” Pressing his forehead against hers, he whispered his reply against her. Lifting slow fingers, she laid her palm against his cheek. 

    “I understand.”

*** 

    I wanted nothing more than to drag her to the nearest temple and marry her. But, what good would it do? Where did rushing get the both of us? Our love did best with space to ebb and flow as it pleased. Rushing would disrupt it. In my heart, I knew her as my wife. My body burned to have the same revelation. And it would. The right way. 

    After a while, we both got up and dressed. A simple shirt and trousers. I ran a quick comb through my hair and opted not to attach my prosthesis. On my cane, I turned to be rewarded with the sight of her, standing there so beautifully. In a light orange-beige dress, she stood, her hands clutched nervously. The splice neckline showcased her delicate collarbones and neck and her hair had been combed and brushed back into a tasteful bun. On her feet heels of the same color. She was stunning. 

    I felt dizzy for just a moment and balanced myself on my cane, gripping the knob tightly. Swallowing hard, I stood straight and approached her. Reaching for her hand, I gladly took it into my own and she blushed, her eyes appreciatively gliding down my form. Smirking, I lifted her hand to my lips. 

*** 

    The group of them went into town. It gave him great pleasure watching her laugh and joke with Etsuko, her face alive and well. Holding onto each other, the two women chatted amongst themselves and he wanted to know what they whispered so discreetly.  Aunt Junko had decided to give her a tour of their village and she started with Ms. Minoki’s sweet shop. 

    The old woman greeted them with a smile and it flooded him with childhood memories. It was bittersweet, watching her eat the fruit-flavored dango that he and Mitsuko had enjoyed as small children. Smiling at him, she lifted one to his mouth and he accepted it, eating it with a pleased little sigh. Cheeks full of color, Etsuko pulled her away to explore the antiques upstairs. 

    He couldn’t help but feel a lingering heaviness. He wanted her to always know laughter, joy, and freedom. He wanted their marriage to work… he wanted it to last. But, more than anything, he wanted closure. She’d had gotten closure in Alabama. He needed closure too. She’d changed so much since the last time they’d been together, back in 1945 at Mukden. She’d been able to at least try to discover herself and what she wanted… whom she wanted to be. He needed to do the same. He needed to grieve and feel. Cry, weep and lose himself in the emotion. 

    As they headed into the Bitan district, he let her hand go, watching as she ran up to the bridge that spanned the distance of the canal built long before their time. When he’d shed everything then he would rebuild. He’d rebuild and reclaim.

***

    Within the next year, I took the time to find myself. Let parts of me die. Open myself up to whatever the healing process looked like. I let go of and created new rituals. I tried, with the morning sun and flow of blood, to welcome peace into my body. At night, I laid on the tatami, memories of my mother and father watching as I fanned the brutal summer heat away from Mitsuko as a baby. Some nights they crippled me and I fell asleep having wept into exhaustion. Others, they proved to be a comfort.

     It took me the longest time to even slightly recover from the loss of my mother. She was the first woman who ever had my heart. She was the first to love me with such unconditional and pure love. I carried my mother, father and sister in my heart for a long time. I still, after all this time, do. As the years passed, it has grown easier and easier and I finally feel at peace. The restoration of the house was the first taste of the closure I needed. It wouldn’t be until later that I would finally put them to rest and lay my grief aside.

    Clinging to what brought me comfort, away from the blood, flesh, and carnage that haunted my dreams, I started going to Aichi Temple. It served to focus my energy and mental stability. Praying to the gods and sitting amongst the deities of nature inspired me and helped me to renew my purpose. The identity of the soldier I laid there amongst the trickling waters of life and quiet rustling trees. I could let him die, finally. 

*** 

1949 

   Early February  

    “Excuse me,” The birdsong had been most calming and now, having found the moment disturbed, lifted annoyed eyes upward. A Buddhist monk, appearing to be around his age, had stopped on his passage, eyes looking down at him. 

    “What do you want?” He replied rudely, mouth twisted up. Unphased, the monk drew closer until he sat on the ground next to him. 

    “You are growing through your suffering. Your aura is especially bright today.” 

    “Who are you?” The man smiled, humor now dancing in his eyes. 

    “I am just a passing monk.”

    “That apparently does not mind his business.” He retorted, turning away from him slightly. 

    “You have inugami in you. I’m sure you know this by now.” 

    “What do you know of inugami, monk?” 

    “I may be Buddhist but I am Japanese too.”  He closed his mouth and clenched his jaw. 

    “You have had to war with what you are naturally gifted to protect. You’ve endured much suffering.”

    “Stop talking as though you fucking know me.” There in his voice lay warning. This bastard was a second away from pissing him off. He sounded like Minato… trying to be mystical and holier than God. It was starting to piss him off. 

    “I mean no disrespect, friend. I merely am reading what your aura wishes to share with me.” Still, he said nothing, eyes on the gorgeous mountain views ahead of him. 

    “It is time for you to find your enlightenment. You’ve more than earned it as a reward for the trials you've gone through.” 

    “Tell me then, great monk of the universe. How will I find it?” He didn't hide his sarcasm and the monk again, smiled. 

    “It is not how you will find it. It is what you will do to gain it.” At that, eyes turned to meet the man who appeared to now be meditating, arms and hands relaxed and in a pose.

*** 

    Little did I know that that man was no ordinary monk. He found his enlightenment not by seeking his Buddha alone. No, he used the act of sex to commune and fellowship with his god. It was a concept that was completely foreign to me and it was something I could not fathom.

*** 

    “You’ve done well in controlling your yang energy, friend.”  Lips pursed, he found the man now standing naked there away from him. At the public bath, the Shinto and Buddhist practitioners desired to cleanse their physical bodies in preparation for a divine meeting. The man glanced down at the result of the morning flow of blood there jutting up between his thighs. He didn’t ask about nor did he glance too long at his residual limb and soon lifted his humored gaze away from his member. 

    “It has been locked inside of a gate of holy red twine. Presumably by your own meditations.” 

    “Fuck off.” He simply replied, brushing past him. The man didn’t gaze at him with lust, no, what made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up was the otherworldly stare that seemed to pierce him. It was as if he were in the presence of a god. 

    “You desire to consume the yin energy of a kitsune. Have you any idea how to usher her into reception?” At that, he froze. 

    “What did you say?” 

    “You, friend, must accept that the body and the womb of a female is just as divine as the phallus and testicles of a male. The revelation of this will enable harmony. That is what you seek, right?” It gave him chills, the words of the man, who now as he turned had walked away and lowered himself into the bath. 

    “Learn join suhai.” 

    “What is join suhai, monk?” 

    “The body of a woman is like shaved ice in summer. It is cold and shocking. And yet, it tastes sweet and cools the heat from the brow, mouth, and loins. Respect the womb and it will give you many offspring. With equal worship and dedication, there will be harmony, peace, and balance.” With all of that said, the man finally disappeared underneath the water. His words stirred his shaft and he glanced down at it as it jerked. Perhaps this bullshit held some weight to it. Perhaps, the book Minato had given him was right.

*** 

    As time passed, I began to keep the information I’d learned and the techniques of female pleasure I’d never before heard of safely tucked away. I hungered for her with unparalleled intensity and I finally wanted to bite into the fruit that I’d watched grow so patiently. As the heavens heard my prayer, the spring of 1949 came quicker than I’d expected and soon, she was to be within my grasp once again. 

*** 

    Her stomach had been in knots all morning. She’d received his letter a couple of days ago and she had been in such disbelief that she’d read it over and over again. 

    Come home. I am waiting for you. 

    Ichiro

    Short, sweet, and to the point, she‘d been unable to stop her excitement. It hadn’t taken her long to pack her belongings. With everything in the third rickshaw, they were off. Like so many years before, swirling green trees, leaves, and people breezed past her, living now in a slower mode of motion. 

    “Are you excited, Bea?” Etsuko held her hand and she tightened her grip on it. 

    “I’m ready to see him.” The older woman smiled and left the comment unanswered. 

    It had been an entire year since they’d last seen each other. In that year, she’d done a lot of growing. A lot of failing. Crying and healing. She felt like she’d finally left the cocoon and flown on her own wings. 

*** 

    “I HATE HIM.”  Sobbing, she curled up into a ball and lifted her fingers to cover her face. 

    “Who, Bea?” 

    “Every man who has ever touched me without permission. Every man who broke me.” A soothing hand rubbed her back. 

    “Do you hate Ichiro too?”

    “….yes….”

    “Why?” 

    “Because he’s a part of them… him…he’s just as responsible.” She breathed through the emotion, letting it rip her apart. 

    “I don’t know why I fell in love with him…” Words came to be too much and instead of words, she let her tears speak for her, all of it screaming loud and clear one thing. Free me. 

***

    There were so many nights that she couldn’t sleep, haunted by nightmares of the past. Of Ruby’s cut-up body in the jar of formaldehyde coming alive and talking to her. Of her baby opening its eyes and screaming. She’d wake up screaming, seeing her brother and her father hanging from the same branch outside her house, the house they had to flee. 

    Sweat would soak her and she’d force herself to stay awake for hours and hours, afraid to go back to sleep for fear that she’d wake up on the operating table of Unit 100, surgeons lowering the scalpel to cut open her chest. 

    She’d cry out for Momma, for Joe, even for Ichiro. She’d cry out for them to come to save her… pull her out of the pit of hell she found herself back into. And while she’d cry, scream and break into a million more pieces, Etsuko was there. She’d hold her, rock her and brush back her hair. She’d run a warm bath for her or heat some milk with lavender and camomile flowers.  

    It had been a year of anger, fear, and grief. A year of discovery. Restoration. Reclamation. She knew she had a long way to go and knew that she’d need continual therapy. But, she had done it all… given it all. And now, now she was at the point of wanting to receive. She wanted to receive all the good that God had for her. She wanted to receive love, life, and happiness. 

*** 

    “What are you doing?” Looking up, she found Etsuko peeking into her room and screamed, diving underneath the covers of her futon. 

    “N-Nothin’…why don’t you ever knock?” The woman grinned. 

    “Don’t be ashamed. I keep telling you that.”

    “I’m…I’m not.” 

    “What do you think?” 

    “About what?”

    “Your power?” Swallowing, she felt the sting of embarrassment nearly burn her alive. It felt weird and she couldn’t even believe that she had even done it. But curiosity had led her to reach for a handheld mirror and open her legs, bringing the glass upward for her to see. 

    “It’s kinda pretty in a way.” 

    “It’s very pretty. It’s special and meant to be adored. Don’t forget it, little sister.” The sound of the shoji shutting closed made her breathe a breath of relief. Lifting the futon away from her, she pressed a hand against her chest. Reaching for the thrown aside mirror once more, she opened her legs and stared at it again. It was strange. Looking at herself this way. Her eyes took in the various colors that made her…her. Mound full of thick coily hairs, down a little, further laid her small little opening. Throat tight, she drifted fingers down to lightly examine herself. 

    She was soft down there… kinda slippery too. Her outer lips were puffy and smooth. Her inner lips seemed to travel down the entire length of her, a slight brownish pink. In awe, she angled the mirror a bit more to reveal more. The thought of Ichiro’s girth stretching her open made her quiver and she quickly closed her legs, her heart slamming against her chest. That was enough… She wouldn’t be satisfied until his fingers replaced hers and her thoughts became real. 

*** 

    Cheeks blushed and she turned to look out at the houses as they now changed. She wanted to receive him, finally. She wanted to accept and take his love in all of their forms into her being and hold tight to them. She needed him and it was okay to admit that, now. She wanted to reintroduce herself to him and to his heart. She wanted to introduce her body to him, trusting that he wouldn’t abuse it.  The rickshaw began to slow down, bringing into view a wooden itabei of scorched cedar lined the entryway. 

    “Ready?” 

    “Yeah.” 

    Twisting heeled feet outward, she was helped from the rickshaw. Heart in her throat, she took a step forward. The fence seemed to extend and expand endlessly, healthy trees framing the sides. The mon was shaped like a sturdy black helmet of sorts and it made her mouth drop in awe. Walking up the old stone pathway, she gawked at the beauty of it all. This was Ichiro’s birth home? It was magnificent and screamed affluence. Coming through the gate, she turned and felt her heart stop. Standing by the door he stood, a cigarette in his fingers. Etsuko, Minato, and Auntie Junko all stopped too. 

    “Ichiro…” Lifting his eyes, he blew out the nicotine-filled smoke and smiled softly. 

    “Welcome home, Bea.”