His Gentle Frame
“SAY, YURI-CHAN… LET’S CLOSE UP EARLY TODAY AND go out for a bit, okay?”
One morning, Tsuru offered to take me out to run a couple of errands with her.
The sun was high, and it was hot enough that I could feel my scalp burning even through the straw hat Tsuru had lent me. I didn’t ask where we were going—but judging from her expression, it wasn’t going to be anyplace fun. We turned off the main road onto a small, quiet side street, and after walking a few more blocks, we came to a stop in front of an old, abandoned temple that had clearly seen better days.
“They’re buried here…” Tsuru explained. “I come every month to visit their graves and pay my respects.”
I wanted to ask who she was referring to—but as I watched her gaze up at the temple with squinted eyes in silence, I couldn’t bring myself to say a word. Finally, and with heavy footsteps, she passed through the gate and made a stop at the temple’s main hall to offer her prayer before continuing on to the adjacent graveyard.
I followed behind her in silence, weaving through the worn, weathered gravestones. Flowers had been left in front of a few of them, though they’d all long since dried up and withered away. Most of the graves had been left completely neglected, I noticed—it seemed folks in this day and age had more important things to worry about than visiting the deceased.
Eventually, Tsuru came to a stop in front of a specific grave marker that featured several names on a single plaque.
“This is it,” she said. “My whole family’s buried right here.”
That caught me off guard—until I remembered what she’d told me when we first met, that her family had died in a recent air raid. She wrapped up the withered flowers from her last visit in an old newspaper, then used a linen cloth and some water from the bucket she’d brought along to clean the stone slab. She was wiping it down so carefully and methodically, it almost reminded me of a jeweler polishing a precious gem. It was heartbreaking to watch.
“Here,” I said in a soft whisper. “Let me help.”
Tsuru smiled and handed me the whisk broom, and I got to work sweeping up the dust and fallen leaves around the grave.
“Thank you, dear,” said Tsuru as she wiped the marker dry. “I’m glad I got to bring you with me this time. Usually, I only ever visit alone.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, so I just gave a little nod. The thought of her being left by herself in the world, forced to visit her family’s gravesite all by her lonesome, saddened me beyond words.
Once we had finished cleaning the grave, Tsuru crouched down in front of it and lit some incense with a match. She handed me a stick, and I set it on the incense plate in front of the plaque. Tsuru then did the same thing herself. I watched for a moment as the wispy trails of smoke curled upward into the air, then closed my eyes before placing my hands together in prayer.
I could hear the leaves rustling in the trees all around us as the insects sang their song. With my head lowered, I felt the hot sun on the nape of my neck. When I finally opened my eyes again and looked up, Tsuru still had her hands clasped together. She hadn’t moved an inch or even blinked. She just stared right at the grave with eyes so lonesome, I couldn’t help but avert my own.
“…Sorry for the wait,” she eventually said, rising to her feet after quite some time. “Let’s get going, then, shall we?”
I nodded and stood up with her. I was actually starting to feel a bit lightheaded. Placing the items we’d brought back in the empty bucket, we walked side by side down the road back the way we came.
“It was my husband we buried there first, after he died in the war,” Tsuru explained. “Then our daughter and grandchild, who died in that air raid I told you about.”
“…Right,” I said, unsure how to respond to this.
“Such a tragedy… My daughter had a lot to look forward to, you see. Blessed with a happy marriage to the wealthy heir of a large business the next town over, and a healthy child, to boot… But then their house was swallowed up by the flames in the firebombing, and the three of them perished together… I had to ask her late husband’s family to share some of their remains with me so that I could bury them here as well.”
Tsuru’s eyes were still dry at the moment, but her voice was hoarse and wavering. I could tell she was on the verge of tears.
“I’m glad they died together, at the very least,” she said. “There’s nothing sadder than an infant losing its mother, after all.”
I didn’t, couldn’t respond to this.
“Glad” they died together? I wasn’t sure I could agree. It was still a tragedy of equal measure, regardless, in my view. If it hadn’t been for that air raid, Tsuru would have gotten to watch her granddaughter grow up and spend the rest of her life watching over her daughter’s family with a smile—rather than the sad, lonesome look I’d seen her wear as she was tending to their grave. As the crying cicadas assailed my ears and the sun’s harsh rays beat down on my skin, I bit my lip with chagrin.
“Oh, come now,” said Tsuru. “No need to look so sad, my dear.”
She took me into her arms and squeezed me tight, then rubbed my back. Feeling her seemingly boundless warmth, I couldn’t help but break down and cry, my tears dripping down onto Tsuru’s shoulder.
“…You’re a good, sweet girl, Yuri-chan,” she said. I shook my head.
I wasn’t sweet at all. I was a foul-mouthed contrarian who’d hurt a ton of people, not least of whom was my own mother. I was about the farthest thing from a “good girl” anyone could imagine. And yet, Tsuru still warmly accepted me exactly as I was.
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault, dear,” she said. “There’s no use in crying over what’s already come to pass. Besides, I’ve got you now, don’t I? I’m far from lonely… Thank you for being here with me, Yuri-chan.”
“No, don’t say that…” I sobbed, hiccuping. “If anything, I’m the one who should be thanking you… You took me into your home, you gave me a job and a place to rest my head at night, you keep me fed…and I haven’t uttered a single word of appreciation… Thank you for everything, Tsuru-san.”
As I spoke, I thought of my own mother. Here I was, expressing my sincere gratitude to a woman I wasn’t even related to, and yet I’d never once shown a lick of gratitude to my own mother. I’m so sorry, Mom, I whispered internally.
“No need to be so formal, dear,” said Tsuru. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already family to me… The only family I’ve got left now…”
I felt like I could see Tsuru’s eyes finally beginning to water.
I thought back on the names I’d seen engraved on the grave marker—the names of her dead family members. Oh, I see now—perhaps I really was something of a surrogate daughter to her. Not that I minded playing that role for her one bit; I knew her kindness and consideration toward me was the real deal, after all. If I could at least help ease the sorrow of losing her whole family in this stupid war, I was more than happy to play the role, assuming it was within my power to do so, of course.
Just then, I had a random thought.
Why was I so open to the idea of being Tsuru’s surrogate daughter, but so conflicted and put off by the idea of being Akira’s surrogate sister?
After that, Tsuru had to run another errand over at an old acquaintance’s house, so we made our way back over to the edge of town. We passed near the old army airfield and the base where Akira and his squad mates were stationed. It was a bit of a hike from town, so I couldn’t actually see the base itself, but I did see fighter planes taking off and landing from time to time, and I heard the sound of their engines revving up as they raced down the runway.
Tsuru was paying a visit to an old classmate from her elementary school days—a sweet old lady by the name of Takano. I introduced myself when she opened the door, and she politely smiled back at me. Tsuru handed her the kimono and pickles she’d come to deliver and received a bundle of fresh fruits and vegetables from Takano’s relatives in the countryside in exchange, which she then handed to me.