Cupcakes, Cars & Swords

Chapter 4

Ichiro Tatsuya, affectionately called Ichiro The Great by some of his great-great grandchildren, had been nearing his one hundred and tenth birthday when his housekeeper found him dead inside his home. Before his death, he had not been the oldest person in the world (that honor went to an American lady in the United States of America), but he had been pretty damn close.

Despite his age, his family did not see him as an ancient and frail man who had lived his remaining years alone in the family ancestral home. He had never been feeble, even when his joints to began ache and interfere with his mobility. He’d always been healthy and strong, proud and robust, yet wise and kind, with a mischievous sense of humor.

This was how he had been prior to his death, and it was how his family wanted to remember him. Tatsuya’s children, all sons, had decided the best way to honor their father was to give him a funeral fit for a samurai, for that was what family tradition dictated.

The funeral for Ichiro Tatsuya shut down the town of Kakoudate for two days, something unheard of for the tourist attraction, leaving hundreds of tourists confused and curious. In every shop window was some sort of sign, each one announcing their absence due to the mourning of an honorable man.

The first day was designated for the wake: from ten in the morning that day to the early evening, family, friends and acquaintances lined up in front of the Ichiro home, waiting patiently to pay their respects to the now deceased patriarch of the noble family. Upon entering the front hall, they were greeted by three women, all dressed in black, who encouraged each visitor to sign the registry. Once that was accomplished, the visitor then paid their koden to one of the women, who secured the envelope in a small, heavy wooden box.

The mourners were then ushered into the home’s main room, a large and spacious area now filled with rows of folding chairs and an eloquently decorated family altar. A large, highly polished mahogany casket sat in front of the altar, displaying the empty shell that once held the lively spirit of Ichiro Tasuya. It was in front of the casket, on a flat, square cushion that the visitors paid their respects to the deceased by bowing, ringing a ceremonial bell, then burning more incense before offering a small prayer. Upon the completion of these rites, the mourner then stood and offered condolences to the surviving family members, seated just a few feet from the altar.

Kyuhyun sat in the second row of chairs, quietly watching the procession of people that continued to enter the room. It amazed him how many people had come to say good-bye to his wife’s great grandfather, how many of these people had been touched by Ichiro The Great. It made him proud to have known such an amazing person and to know that there were many others who shared that sentiment.

He continued to watch the people carefully kneel in front of the family altar, performing the requisite acts, before turning to the seat to his right. Misa sat there, her back straight and rigid as she stared absently at her sousofu’s casket. Like everyone present, she was dressed in black, but wore a silk kimono almost identical to her mother’s. Her hair been left down and loose, straight and shiny, her face carefully made up with the smallest amount of make-up. Although she looked the picture of a mourner, sad and almost despondent, Kyuhyun thought she was beautiful.

He reached over and gently took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze. “How are you holding up, angel?” he whispered to her.

Misa blinked, as if awakening from a trance, before turning towards him. She offered a small smile and sighed. “Alright, I guess,” she whispered back. “Although, I keep waiting for sousofu to pop up from his casket, scaring everyone and then laughing his head off.”

Kyuhyun chuckled. “Like the time he scared Ryu on his birthday?” he said, remembering the event. His brother-in-law had been celebrating his thirty-fifth birthday, when Ichiro The Great had jumped out of the kitchen pantry with a mighty yell. Ryuki had belted out a high-pitched scream that had his great grandfather laughing for hours afterwards.