Free The Ohana by CW Schutter

burden released.
    Minutes later, Kazuko opened her eyes. Shizue’s eyes gazed down at her, her hands deftly wiping Kazuko’s sweaty face and pushing wet strands of her hair behind her ears. “I'm happy for you. You have a girl, as small and delicate as a cherry blossom. Shall I bring her to you?”
    Kazuko nodded weakly. Her eyes followed Shizue as she picked up a blue bundle from the laundry basket nearby. “A fine daughter,” Shizue crowed, putting the child next to her. “What will you name her?”
    “Mariko,” Kazuko drew her child closer to her.
    “Tetsuo san will be happy.”
    Kazuko kissed the top of her daughter’s head and whispered, “Our fate is tied to this cursed land, my daughter, but we won't give up. We can't give up.” Her eyes closed and she drifted into an exhausted sleep.
     
    Japan, 1918
    She should have been a boy. Her father told her mother that often enough. Willful, obstinate, rebellious, and intelligent, Kazuko chafed at the restrictions put on women and wondered if there was any place in the world where women had the kind of freedom men had.
    Kazuko felt closer to her amah san Sunae than anyone else in the world. Such an attachment was frowned upon as the rules enforcing conduct between the classes was strictly enforced down to the food they ate. But Sunae had bathed her, brushed her hair, and dressed her for as long as she could remember. Like most upper class children, Kazuko spent more time with her amah san than she did with her own mother. She could always depend on Sunae to comfort and tell her the truth. Sometimes Sunae brought her son Tetsuo, a strapping, strong boy with a shock of black hair sticking up from his head. His large expressive eyes, thick eyelashes, and full lips caused the village girls to giggle when he walked by. It annoyed Kazuko he got so much attention. But Tetsuo never looked at them.
    Kazuko couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t love him. He was her best friend, her companion, and as she grew older, she wanted to be his lover. It didn't matter to her their relationship was unsuitable. She didn’t much care about convention, anyway. She smoked cigarettes in secret and skipped classes with her tutors to run off to the village to take karate class dressed as a boy—until her father found out. To his chagrin, the sensei told him she was one of his best students.
    The qualities that would have made her a great son were unacceptable in a daughter. She was too spirited, too independent, too determined to have her way. When Kazuko wanted something, she stopped at nothing to get it. And what she wanted most was Tetsuo.
    Tetsuo assisted her father’s gardener, Hikoji. The gardens were a marvel. Hikoji created a starkly beautiful composition by putting together an austere yet complex arrangement of rocks and the treasured bonsai trees he cultivated. The focal point was the central courtyard rimmed with covered walkways and shoji doors leading to rooms covered with tatami mats. The rooms reflected the same minimalist elegance of the rock gardens. In the center court, the severe planes were softened by gently rolling hillocks atop a carpet of mossy grass and delicately flowering plants. Under the miniature stone temples and bridges, her father’s prized carp flashed brilliant colors of orange, gold, and iridescent pearl beneath the sparkling water lined with smooth, gray pebbles.
    Kazuko often surprised Tetsuo while he worked in the gardens. They stole kisses behind the tool shed and dreamed of running away to a place where they could be together all the time.
    Then one day Sunae brought her an elegant blue silk kimono, as serene as the morning sky. It was densely patterned with tiny dots arranged in a floral-type pattern. The kimono was an Edo Komon , popular with the samurai class since the Edo period. Kazuko stared at the beautiful kimono and exclaimed as Sunae began dressing her, “Am I pouring tea today?”
    “For your honorable father.” Sunae put a