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He was numb. Twice now his life had been destroyed. Once by those he hated, once by those he loved.With a voice devoid of emotion, he spoke. "Somo, bring me my paper and ink. As well as my wakizashi and my katana." Tears fell from Somo's eyes hearing this, knowing what it meant, but he would not disobey his master's request. He would have felt honor at being named kaishakunin, or "second" in this ritual if he wasn't also overcome by grief.Somo returned wordlessly with a tray with Takashi's best writing implements, having taken control over his emotions so as not to shame his master. With bold strokes, Takashi painted his haiku, the perfection of the letters only marred by the tears that had finally begun to fall from his eyes. They were not tears of sadness at the loss of his beloved. They were tears of shame, at his failure to protect her. He never thought she'd need protection from those she loved, and who loved her.With the poem written, he peeled his kimono off his shoulders.. Cathleen's breasts started to heave and her tears flowed freely. She squeezed his hand harder, as if she would never let go."This is so hard," she wept, "I don't want to leave you. My heart already aches at just the thought of not having you by my side. Oh God, why do I have to go?"Jim held on to her hand. He wanted to simply burst out crying along with her. He wanted to grab her, hold on and never let her go. He wanted to tell the Army they had no right to drag his cherished from him, no right at all. But of course, he couldn't do any of those things. Instead he had to put on a brave face and tell Cathleen she must go where she is needed.The gaudy colored vehicle pulled into their drive and headed for the house. Cathleen jumped from her chair and threw her arms around him. She showered him with kisses knowing they would have to last him a while.The taxi driver walked up to the porch."May I help you with your bag, Ma'am?" he asked.Cathleen was busy hugging her precious husband and.
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