Why you can't walk away

Is there regret in mistakes? My name is Tobias. I’ve stood atop this mountain for decades, holding on and guarding the grave of the woman I loved. She may have rested by now, left this world and gone to the next in whichever it may be, but still, I sit here for her. Why?

Once upon a time, some years ago, my wife and I lived down the mountain, in a valley of our own, all to ourselves. We raised sheep and sold them as our living. I have a past. I worked for the army. I killed people, saw the light leave their eyes as I took it from them. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be a killer, but still, I was. She saw through the pain in my eyes and saw the light I had to repress for so many years. We married and lived a beautiful life, just us. This mountain was our favourite spot to visit. We’d take a daytrip and come for a few hours before descending. I’m still here, twenty years later where she lay buried. I can’t even remember the last time I went down. Why?

Once upon a time, we were married happily, but not without struggles. She struggled. I struggled. See she had a past too, a past that ate at her. She hadn’t been enough for herself for many years. She had disappointed her father, shamed her family and disgraced her lineage. She studied at a prestigious academy. Her family was one of the most prominent in our country. She didn’t take to the life, but she understood she had a responsibility to carry on the respect of the house, so she studied hard. One day, as the pressure mounted, she cracked and broke. She began cheating, and she was caught. Hiding answers beneath her sleeve, she’d glance back on them to save herself the memory space. Her examiner walked up, pulled her sleeve up and demanded an explanation. Unable to give one, she was kicked from the room, and from the academy. Now, she lays here, as I stand over the grave of one whose life was filled with regrets, as was mine. Why?

We met in the market square. I had just been honourably discharged from the military; she had been working for a year at a local restaurant. I was shopping for dinner; she was grabbing supplies. We bumped into one another, falling and scattering our materials on the dusty floor. It took me a moment, but when I saw her, I felt I’d seen a goddess. I stared into her eyes, and she stared into mine. We stumbled through words and introductions until ten minutes had passed. Her boss had come looking for her. She promised to come find me again, as I stood awestruck in the middle of the market, passersby’s bumping into me as I remained unmoving. Now I am unmoving over her grave. Why?

We met again in the north forest a week later. She asked if I was the same man. I said I was. I asked if she was the same woman. She said she was. She introduced herself properly as Kimiko, me as Tobias. We sat and talked about ourselves and about our hopes. We shared a fondness for art and theatre. We thought the same of the emperor but dare not express it to any others. We watched the birds flock and soar across the water and watched the clouds as they floated by overhead. We held hands and watched as the world went on without noticing us, something we both treasured. In that moment, we were both finally invisible, together. Now, I cannot hold her hand. Why?

We married five years later. We vowed to spend the rest of our lives together before placing the ring on each our fingers. We remained invisible for some time. Her family had abandoned her, moved on to their next of kin to carry on the legacy. I had very few friends after the military. Most moved, the rest wanted to stay as invisible as me. We both worked in the same restaurant she lived in and lived in a small home in the city. It was her idea to build our own home. We saved up for supplies for two years before beginning. Now the house lays abandoned in the valley, windows broken and sheep long gone. Why?

The winters were the worst. We worked through them save for snowstorms, but when the snow came it slowed our work down to a halt. I continued lifting through the winter while she would sit and watch on the constructed logs. I’d drop some wood, and she’d laugh at me. I’d laugh too before realizing it had landed on my foot. After two long years, we had built our home. It was small and cozy, just like we’d wanted. We built a pen in the backyard to raise our sheep. Kimiko had a talent for clothing. She created the most beautiful garments in the country. It was amazing, how her hands were capable of such beauty, while all my hands were capable of was ugliness. I had built our house, but I feared it was not to be her permanent home. If I’d known what I know now, I would have ran and never looked back. Why did this have to happen?

Our home was outside imperial jurisdiction. This came with certain freedoms, and certain risks. We did not have to pay imperial tributes sure, but this meant we had no imperial protection. It was a risk we weighed, as given the state of the empire, we thought it best to keep our distance. As things in the empire became worse, the emperor’s subjects became lawless. Gangs rose, pillaging and robberies became more and more common. Words spread of a crime syndicate organizing a conspiracy to overthrow the emperor. Kimiko and I, we were all for it. The bastard deserved whatever pain his people would inflict on him. Still, Kimiko was scared. She wanted to flee. She had a bad feeling about how close we were to the city. I should have listened. Why didn’t I listen?

Kimiko wanted to move away. She wanted to go to the outskirts, rather than to live closer to the in-land where the riots had been. She didn’t feel safe. I promised her I’d keep her safe. I had survived wars; what would a couple of punks do to me? It wasn’t me who would be vulnerable. I didn’t want to abandon this life. I had a beautiful wife with such amazing talents, and together we raised cattle in a home of our own creation, far away from the influence of the empire, but close enough to watch their descent. It was my greatest joy, to watch the government who had hurt me fall. At least, that’s what I thought, until my true joy left this world. Why couldn’t I see?

When the knock at the door came, Kimiko was horrified. The crime syndicate had gotten worse. The empire was bad, but mobsters and criminals ruling with terror was worse. We hadn’t realized how bad it was until they were right in front of us. I told her to hide in the basement. I unlocked the door.

“Can I holla at you, old man?” asked a man in a suit with two large men with katanas on their waists.

I asked what he wanted, and he explained who he was. This was the man who had killed the emperor. I thanked him and shook his hand. He asked me what my home was doing in a place like this. I explained how much I hated the emperor, so I’d built a home to raise cattle on my own away from imperial influence. He smiled and explained there was no need to fear anymore, and that he I should return to the city. It would be far more prosperous than before, he told me. I thanked him for his offer before attempting to close the door. He held it open, and explained it wasn’t an offer.

He asked if I was the only one present. I told him yes, just myself and my cattle. He asked if I could look around. I told him no; this was my home, and I had been the only one here the whole time. It would be indecent to me should he step in. He agreed, pushed me down, and had his men search, explaining he couldn’t afford for empire loyalists to hide out under his nose. Kimiko’s family was in good standing with the emperor. I knew what it would mean if she was found. He pulled out his katana and held it to my neck. I explained there was no need for this, to which he disagreed. I kicked the back of his knee with my right foot, disarmed him and held his katana against his neck. There were perks to being indecent, I suppose. His men heard the commotion and came back inside the home. I told them to hand their weapons to me and to never come back. They did as I said before I released their boss. Swearing vengeance, they left. Why hadn’t I left sooner?

That night, Kimiko and I departed. We left everything save for clothing and food before living off the land for two days. I carried the man’s katana with me and told her to carry one of his men’s as well. We made it all the way to the river before he caught up with us. He’d personally come. He could have sent advisors after me, could have sent any of the thousands he now controlled, but he wanted this to be personal. Only one of him versus one of me. He saw my wife and made an offer, if I went back with him, she would live. I told him he was in no position to make offers. We duelled. He was skilled, but I was fierce. I knocked him to the ground, Katana out of hand. With my fury, I severed his left hand. Kimiko squealed. I turned out of fear she’d been hurt, but all I saw was my wife horrified by what I was. Why had I let her choose me as a husband?

The man grabbed his katana while I looked away and cut open my chest. I screamed and harrowed louder than I ever had in the war, so loud the doves living in the trees nearby flew away. He ran to her. She raised her katana, but he deflected it. He stabbed her through her heart, hoisting her up, showing his strength and pride in his kill. I bled out slowly, my vision blackening as I watched the light leave her eyes. Why?

When I came to, I was in a hospital in the city. My chest had been stitched up and my bleeding stopped. I was slowly coming to when the man walked into the room, offering me a position in his military. I refused, swearing on my life to never lift a sword again. He told me it made no difference to Kimiko now, so what good did it do? I told him it was all I had. He nodded and explained that, if I wanted, there would always be a position for me in his operation before he left. I recovered in that hospital for two months, completely paid for by that man. When I was strong enough to leave, I left. I found Kimiko’s body beside the river, decomposing and bloodied. No ravens had eaten her flesh. I suppose they recognized the beauty of her. I carried her body for three days back home before carrying her body up the mountain. I buried her in our favourite spot and decorated her grave with any garments of hers that laid abandoned in the house. I never touched a sword again, but I stayed to protect her grave. I still stay to this day, huddled through the winters so many years later.

Why did I not leave when she wanted us to? I’ve been asking and answering this to myself for twenty years. I am a spiteful man. My body and mind are capable of such ugliness. I wanted to see it all go down. I wanted to see the empire burn. Now Kimiko, my beautiful, talented, smart, funny, adorable and caring Kimiko has paid the price. No matter where she is now, no matter how her soul has moved on, I cannot. I sit here, alone and invisible, forever, because this is what I deserve. My actions killed so many, and when I thought I had escaped that life, when I found the person who could see the light in my eyes, I stuffed it out because of my pride. So here I will remain, seeking eternal atonement. My name is Tobias. I’ve stood atop this mountain for decades, holding on and guarding the grave of the woman I loved. She may have rested by now, left this world and gone to the next in whichever it may be, but still, I sit here for her, and I will sit here forever.