“Ototo-shi is dead,” Ikasu said. “It is time.”

He and Makoto traveled then. It took them four days to reach Bethany. Ikasu waited at the outskirts of town while Makoto went to get Onna and Okusama. The sisters came.

“If you had been here, he wouldn’t have died,” Onna said.

Okusama squeezed Onna’s hand tightly.

“What you say is true,” Ikasu said.

“You could do something, even now. Couldn’t you?” Onna asked.

“Your brother will rise again,” Ikasu said.

“Will he live with the Gods?” Onna asked.

“Do you believe that I am the way?” Ikasu asked.

Onna slapped Ikasu across the face. Ikasu looked at her, but said nothing.

“Even now, it is about you and your God. What about Ototo-shi? He loved you!” Onna said.

“Onna, enough!” Okusama said.

Onna turned and glared at Okusama, “No, it isn’t enough! You know he could have saved him! Why come now, when he’s already dead?”

“I couldn’t come any sooner,” Ikasu whispered.

The pain in his voice startled Onna. She looked at him closely and knew that he believed what he said. How could she hate him when he loved Ototo-shi as much as she did? She gently kissed Ikasu on the cheek where she had slapped him.

“Forgive me,” she whispered.

Ikasu hugged her and whispered “I love you and your family more then myself.”

She believed him. She stepped away feeling angry and sad and confused. Why had all of this happened?

“Okusama?” Ikasu asked.

Okusama knelt before Ikasu’s feet and wept.

“If you had been here, Ototo-shi would still be alive.” She covered her face and spoke into her hands, “But you loved him and will show him into the Kingdom of Rest.”

Ikasu took Okusama by the shoulders and gently bade her to rise. He kissed her and held her tightly.

“If God had allowed, I would have been here at your side,” he whispered into her hair.

“I know,” she whispered back.

“Forgive me that he had to die.”

“I forgive you.”

Ikasu drew back from her. “Show me where he rests.”

“He’s been dead four days,” she said.

“I know. Please, take me to him.”

Okusama nodded and led him to the burial tomb. It was a small cave with a large flat stone blocking its entrance. Ikasu approached the stone and laid his hands on it. The stone was cold. He sighed softly and pushed the stone. It trembled and rolled slowly away. The stench of death spilled from the cave’s entrance.

“Ikasu!” Okusama said.

Onna covered her mouth as she gasped in surprise.

Ikasu leaned against the cave’s entrance and looked inside. He gazed down at the ravaged body of his friend and wept. He knelt in front of the cave’s entrance and quietly prayed. Behind him, people from the village gathered. Word of his arrival had spread as he had known it would. They would be curious to see how he reacted to the death of his friend and to see if the Guntai would come for him. He waited for more of them to come. An audience served his purposes. He sobbed quietly and whispered a second prayer, but not to his deity; this time to his friend. He hoped that Ototo-shi could understand and forgive him. He wiped his eyes and rose again to his feet.

“Ototo-shi!” he called into the cave.

Several people behind him gasped and others began to whisper amongst themselves.

“Ototo-shi, awaken and arise!” Ikasu called again.

This time the whispering was louder and a few people dared to scoff at him. It didn’t matter, they would see soon enough. Ikasu didn’t call to his friend again; he knew that he had been heard and that Ototo-shi would be slow to obey. The longer he stood at the cave waiting, the bolder the people behind him became. Several called him mad and laughed at him.

Then a figure stepped from the cave’s shadows, hovering at the edge of the morning’s sunlight. It was Ototo-shi, but his identity was only clear to those who had seen him in the final days of his illness. His skin was pale, almost without color and marked with deep red and purple sores that even now oozed a clear yellowish fluid. It was not the state of his ravaged flesh that caused many to scream, but the intelligence and understanding that glowed in his eyes. Now a different murmur began within the crowd.

“Ikasu…” Ototo-shi moaned.

Ikasu took Ototo-shi into his arms and wept against his matted hair. Quietly, he murmured his love and grief to Ototo-shi. He wasn’t sure Ototo-shi could hear him, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak any louder. How could he admit what he had done? How could any here understand?

“Ototo-shi, be healed.”

Ikasu laid his hands over Ototo-shi’s wounds, beginning with those marring his face. The wounds dried and closed, leaving the skin pale and blemished with pink scars. Soon it became clear who was standing before them and that he had been raised and healed. Now the crowd clamored. Many screamed and yelled with fear and outrage. Others simply ran away. But many sought to touch the pink scars that were left behind. Their many hands reached between Ikasu and Ototo-shi, separating them from each other. Ikasu let them take him. They were gentle and reverent as they touched him. Many asked him questions and asked for blessing, but Ototo-shi spoke to none of them. He stood motionless, letting them touch him freely. He silently stared into the eyes of his savior.
Ikasu stared back, unsure and afraid.