Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere
She had not thought about the shadow or her father since his funeral last October. She shook at the thought, but she soon dismissed the apparition as part of her stress, a figment of her imagination. A product of her grief.
Her immediate worry however was her move back to the family compound. Her mother-in-law refused to speak to her afterwards, not even wanting to see her grandchildren. Whenever Chiemi was in the store, she imagined what her customers were thinking. Whether they knew or not.
“You were always a willful girl,” Haruye Okaasan commented.
“Willful? What does that mean?” Chiemi said with more than a little anger in her voice.
“I mean, you always did whatever you wanted, never mind how it looks.”
“How was I supposed to take care of the twins, the business, and my giri-no onibaba?” The commute was much longer, but it was worth it to get away from the constant mother-in-law nagging.
Haruye turned away from the obvious insult, grimacing at the same time. “Don’t call her that.”
“Well? But tell me, tell me!” Chiemi nagged. “Am I right?”
Her mother remained silent as she sat to pick up her mending. She refused to make eye-contact with her daughter.
“Okaa, Takeshi is a sickly child and needs extra care. Do you think that the onibaba can help? Do you? Do you?”
“Stop calling her that! She is not a devil woman.”
***
The newspapers indicated that the times were getting dangerous. On December 7th, the Asahi Shimbun reported the “victorious and glorious” attack on the United States at Pearl Harbor. The American Pacific fleet had been moved there, she recalled reading some time ago. Back then, Chiemi thought the Americans foolish for such a provocative move. She read of the estimated number of dead, but it meant nothing to her. It was just a number. Death is meaningless, whispered a shadow in the dark.
Leading up to the attack, the newspapers had reported an oil embargo by the US and a demand for the total and unconditional withdrawal from China. She sniffed at the idea and thought the demands and actions unreasonable. How will we survive without China? We need China’s rice, soy…oil. The US then froze Japan’s assets.
In rapid succession, Japan attacked and occupied the Philippines, Singapore, Hong Kong, and other South Pacific islands. The news flooded the minds of the population; everyone swelled with pride and patriotic fervour. No one could stop the Japanese Imperial Forces, invulnerable and unstoppable. It was a matter of self-preservation, according to the editorials. Japan was truly an empire now. Chiemi saw a wall forming around her country, fortified by the Divine Emperor, General Tojo, Admiral Yamamoto, and the combined might of the military forces. The Empire of Japan presented a formidable wedge against the US and European forces who wanted to harm Chiemi and the Japanese.
But others claimed that it would be disastrous for Japan to enter a war with the United States. Admiral Yamamoto, it was rumoured, said as much in high-level meetings. Pundits speculated that any conflict would last six months before Japan lost. Chiemi wondered why they weren’t arrested for treason.
Despite the embargoes, Japan nevertheless dictated terms with the Americans. They wanted the guarantee of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere: the linking of all of East Asia culturally and economically, led by Japan. The Roof Over Asia.
***
But Chiemi remained indifferent to what was happening among politicians and with the military campaigns, even as the war crept steadily into the Spring of 1942. She was appalled by the rationing which was still enforced and in fact intensified with time and situation. Rice became scarce, even to the wealthy, as everyone mixed in millet (mostly barley) to stretch the supply (encouraged by government propaganda). The same blend went to the soldiers. Japanese vegetables were still easily had, the domestic production had not waned…yet. But seafood was getting hard to come by. American submarine patrols curtailed deep-sea fishing. Fishermen were only able to harvest squid and sardines. She was worried how to keep her children nourished, especially Takeshi. Her breast milk wasn’t enough for both, but she reserved most of it for Takeshi. Whole milk was expensive, but she bought what she could for Kuniya. As for her and her mother, thank the Buddha for tofu and shoyu. Add a little dried baby sardines and everything tasted Japanese. Didn’t feel as deprived then.
Besides the food issues, Chiemi was concerned about the two men in her life: Hideki and Ito-san. But she had no say in what the two did. Neither listened to her. She scanned the lists of the dead posted on neighbourhood announcement boards or printed in the newspapers. She still harboured the notion that they were idiots for having run off to join the military. She didn’t want to see them dead, especially with Hideki’s change of heart. Stay safe, Hideki. Stay safe.
Concerns at home soon took over.
Even so, her father’s death after a while returned to play on her mind. It was such a mystery. And had he visited her in the night? The moving shadow had had to have been him. What did it mean? Perhaps he was telling her he was all right. There was no way to know.
He became another ancestor to venerate at Obon; a photograph accompanied by the tanka was placed in the butsudan (the family altar). From time to time, she sat seiza, meditating, in front of the altar in the Whisperin Oni Room and offered incense to remember him. She came to appreciate the ritual and the sanctity of that part of the house.
So, every morning, she kissed her babies, bid her mother farewell, and walked off along the dirt road towards town. The road rose slightly before descending to the trolley station. A thick forest of trees stood on either side, keeping the area cool and shady. The smells of spring greeted her every day and lightened her mood.
Once on the trolley, it was a simple ride to the covered shopping street of Hiroshima where the store, Taisho-ya Kimono, stood inside the Hondori. Her mother-in-law took care of the second shop within sight of the Ota River so that was a blessing. Chiemi would not have to deal with the onibaba (the devil woman).
Above all else, she worried about her mother. Since Otousan’s death, Okaasan had grown old. Her hair sprouted much more grey than her age called for, she walked with a stoop and chores became harder and harder. It didn’t help that the twin grandchildren were so mischievous, even at one-year-old. Kuniya, the one with the rascal smile, especially would get into things, fearlessly climbing on furniture and the like, while Takeshi, who had gained weight and was seemingly out of danger, observed and then followed. Invariably, they knocked things over, upset things, broke things. Okaasan and Chiemi chased after them trying to contain them at the same time. They both looked so beautiful, yet they possessed the hearts of oni.
Chiemi spent the day in the shop in relative peace. Though from time to time, something would happen to upset things. Like the time, she caught a woman shoplifting some material. Chiemi grabbed her by the shoulders, a simple task since she was so much taller than the thief.
The woman had a small bolt of patterned cloth under her arm as she made for the door.
“Stop, what do you think you’re doing?” Chiemi shrieked.
“Let me go! I don’t mean anything—” she insisted. “I can pay! I can pay!”
The voice was familiar for some reason and Chiemi turned her around. It was Mizuyabu Aiko, the candy store owner whose property was confiscated. Chiemi immediately let go.
“Mizuyabu-san? What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” she said nearly in tears. Aiko bowed deeply in front of her. “I didn’t mean anything. If I had known you were…I never would’ve—”
“You didn’t have to steal anything.’
“I’m…we’re so poor,” she confessed in a humble voice. “I can’t pay…”
It was then that Chiemi noticed how thin her friend had become, her arms especially, like sticks. Her face was haggard, pulled down by worry, poverty, and perhaps shame. She pushed Aiko towards the back of the store, past the displays of kimono and stacks of colourful cloth to a small table with two chairs against the wall.
“You sit here,” she commanded quietly. “I’ll make some green tea.”
Aiko smiled weakly and obeyed, sitting on the edge of the metal chair, holding on as if her life depended on not falling to the floor. Her face drooped with fatigue.
Chiemi tipped the teapot gently, her left hand supporting the bottom to control the pour. The set, decorated with bamboo fronds and enameled in a deep dark green, was delicate and pleasing to the eye. The cup elegantly received the pale green liquid until nearly full. The steam rose into the cool air.
Aiko at least looked relaxed as she picked up her cup, holding it gently with two fingers at the cool area at the top of the cup while her left palm cradled it. The moist, warm steam felt good against the skin as she closed her eyes and smiled approval.
“Now, tell me what’s happened to you since I last saw you,” Chiemi said.
“I thought I could make a decent kimono, so I’d look presentable for a job some—”
“No, you’re not listening. Since I last saw you…”
“My husband was drafted into the navy shortly after our place was taken.”
That was not unexpected, but she did have a question. “Isn’t he too old?” An odd question since her husband was not immune because of age.
“His time in the navy during WWI got him in.”
“Where is he?”
She fell silent.
“Mizuyabu-san?”
“He’s dead.”
“What…how?” Her face betrayed her surprise.
“His ship, the Izumi, was bombed and sank somewhere in the South Pacific…they wouldn’t tell me…last year,” she revealed with her head down. “We’ve been struggling ever since, my two daughters and me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Two men in uniform came to our door…they gave me a kotsutsubo.” A white funeral box.
“His remains—”
“No…no…not really. They couldn’t recover his body…so they placed a rock inside to represent his body.”
Chiemi fell silent, not really knowing what to say.
“At least, his navy pay was something…but now we have nothing. And you know how hard it is finding work,” she said almost out of desperation.
“Yoshi,” Chiemi said, “you come work here.”
Her face suddenly grew animated. “Really? Is this true?”
“I’m serious. I could use the help.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She bent over to bow. “You don’t have to—”
“Nonsense. As I said, I need the help. You go home and prepare for a full day’s work tomorrow. And take the cloth with you. You’ve got to look presentable…” she said with a smile.
Chiemi breathed out thinking of her mother. Had her father not provided for Haruye in case of his passing, she would just as badly off as Mizuyabu-san.