One night I was shaking, cold and drenched in sweat. Kassashimei gently rubbed a cloth across my forehead and arms, then tipped a cup of medicinal tea to my lips. I admired her and the smile she gave me. She remained as confident as ever; and even though I knew she was worried, she would never let me see it. Auntie picked up a basket and left to purchase more herbs.

"Do you think it would have been better if I had died on that ship?" I asked.

She shook her head. "You're a fool to say things like that. The more nonsense you spout, the more I might consier torturing you with some songs from my shamisen."

"Do that, and I'm sure you'll make me sicker."

We laughed and held each other's hands. For a while, we stared at each other in silence and let the fire from the stove illuminate the longing in our faces. The quiet chatter from the people outside and the gentle buzz from the night beetles lulled me into a sense of calm.

"Kass," I asked quietly, "how did you overcome your sickness?"

She sighed, then pressed her lips against mine. My eyes widened and my breath stopped. We remained together, lingering in that kiss for what seemed like hours.

As she pulled away, brushing the hair from her face she said, "Terr, you can't die just yet. There are things you still need to do."

I lost track of the passing days, but I knew of a particular evening when I was woken up by the sounds of fire works and the festive melodies of strings and flutes. Kassashimei came barging into the hut making pleas with Auntie who was boiling more medicinal tea. Whatever she was asking for, Auntie protested, shaking her head incessantly. Shrugging her off, Kassashimei picked me up from the bed and slipped my shoes onto my feet. Against Aunties angry ramblings, she placed my arm around her shoulder and helped me outside.

Confused, but trusting, I continued to limp beside her down the center of the village where brightly colored stalls had been setup, drawing people in with food and games. The sounds of drums pulsed through the air while dancers dressed in elaborate clothing moved in rhythm to the beats.

"It's the summer festival," I said weakly.

"Of course it is," Kassashimei replied. "I told you there would be one when we got back."

She shifted my weight against hers and proceeded to guide me further down the road, taking in all the sights and sounds as we went. I looked up at the sky and watched fire works crackle against the light of the moon. Children laughed, running about with food in their hands and the prizes they'd won from the gaming stalls.

I was determined to not be a burden, so I pulled my arm from her shoulder and proceeded to walk as best as I could on my own. During my first few stumbling steps, she tried to catch me, but I gestured at her reassuringly and quickly regained my balance.

"You see? I knew all that talk about dying was just an exaggeration. You're fine."

Her tease left me grinning.

"Well I can't let you have all the fun by yourself now, can I?"

We spent the evening sampling every fried food and meat-on-a-stick that the stalls provided. Sadly, there was not much due to the war rationing, but it didn't matter. With or without the war, the summer festival remained just as joyous.

On some occasions I found it hard to keep the food down. Swallowing was as much a chore for me as walking, but Kassashimei made sure not to give me any pity. Sick or not, she was quick to point and laugh whenever I coughed out the food. Still, I was all too happy to laugh with her.

There were stage plays depicting intricate dramas and ceremonies, something I'd never seen before. Kassashimei pointed out the performers and explained the meaning behind their movements. A few times, I questioned the truth of her words, but she was all-too-ready to remind me that she belonged to a family of temple priests and that she knew what she was talking about.

The night carried on and we enjoyed ourselves to the absolute fullest. After the village fireworks had finished, we went out to a small hill to watch the capital in the distance start with their own fireworks display. Even though we knew that every town and city in the country that evening were commemorating the summer with their own festivals, it was strange to witness it being celebrated from two places at once.

I felt my mind constantly drifting away, like a lens from a spyglass unable to keep its focus on any one single thing. Though she remained next to me on that hill, I fought hard against the urge to sleep. I was afraid that if I did, I would never wake and that I would never see her again. Still, despite my every effort, my eyes closed on their own. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I was both relieved and shocked when my eyes opened again.

We were still on the hill, but we were kneeling, facing each other. She was whispering something under her breath, shaking a branch between us. Then she reached into her robe, pulled out a gold ribbon and proceeded to tie both our hands together.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Oh, you're awake. Help me finish this bow. It's too hard for me to do this with one hand."

"Kass, I asked you a question."

She gave an annoyed sigh. "Isn't it obvious? I'm performing marriage rites. At least where I'm from, this is how marriages are done. Except usually the bride doesn't do the duties of the priest."

"You're marrying us?" I exclaimed, pulling at the bow that bound my hand to hers.

"Stop it. Don't do that." She slapped the back of my hand. "We're not officially getting married. I just. . . I want to. . ."

"You want to what?"

"I want to see what it's like."

"You want to see what its like to be married?"

She gave a shallow nod. Her eyes, usually unafraid to look at me directly, had shied away. The lights from the village betrayed the blush in her cheeks. She then turned a stern, forceful gaze in my direction.

"Let me do this," she demanded.

For a brief moment, I'd become the shy one. I felt the sweat beading on my forehead and trickling down the side of my face. There was a fire growing in my chest, but instead of feeling its warmth, I found myself shivering. I couldn't tell whether it was because of her or my illness. It was probably both.

"Well?" She prodded.

I found it difficult to sit straight. My dizziness grew and her face blurred in and out, as if she'd been veiled in clear water and then suddenly hidden by the ripples. Though I struggled, my concentration waned as my efforts to keep my composure slowly drifted away.

"You're the strangest person I've ever met."

"That's not an answer."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little at how serious she seemed, as I was so amused, I lost a bit of my balance. Her hand pressed up against my chest and propped my body back in place.

"Don't laugh at me," she said with a pout on her face that left me still left me amused. "This is important."

I stopped and tried to be as resolute as I could. "Okay. No more laughing." I think I must have been smirking, because she was still pouting. "So do you really think the sun and the moon can share the same sky?"

She steadied my hand against hers and retied the bow that bound them together. "Of course they can."

My other hand reached out and helped her with the knot. "I never said yes you know."

"Yes you did. You just didn't use words."

I sighed.

After we tied the bow, she rasped the branch between us a few more times. The ceremonial chants she uttered seemed to draw on and on. The words melded together until it almost felt like she was singing. It was when she became silent came that I truly began to feel her sincerity.

She lowered her head and closed her eyes. "Do what I'm doing."

I did as she commanded and obediently closed my eyes as well.

"Now, according to my mother," she continued. "All we do, is lift our heads, and when we open our eyes, we will look at each other for the first time as husband and wife."

"Kass."

"Don't say anything. Not until the ceremony is finished."

"But before I do anything, I have a question."

"What is it?" she said wistfully.

"What if I want this to be real?"

For a while, the only thing I heard were the sounds of the ocean and the soft rustle of the trees. My anticipation grew. I felt the warmth of her hand against mine, heard the hesitation in her breath. After some time had passed, I wondered if she would ever say anything. And then, breaking the stillness, her reply finally came.

"Then all you have to do, is open your eyes and look at me."

They never opened. The weakness in my body had finally taken away my consciousness. I fell in a slump against her warmth as I felt my hand slip from the ribbon that kept me bound to her.

During certain moments, when I think of my children and grandchildren, I often find myself reminded of that night; and then I wonder: could Kassashimei and I ever have nurtured a family together? What kind of life would we have had if she had remained with me? But then, knowing who she was, I knew that it was impossible. Even so, after all these years, my feelings for her never faded.

Hanging in the open window of my study are a set of chimes, and tied to them is a length of gold ribbon. It was my way of making sure that whenever there was a breeze, whenever I heard them ring, my endearing thoughts of her would continue to endure.