Sakura Understands Reality

Raion was weeping. Not crying, weeping. The tears welled into His eyes from deep within His soul and trickled like life's blood so moisten His lips and beard. Sakura sat quietly and watched. All her being cried out to comfort her Sensei yet she knew the turmoil that filled His being was one to which she had no cure. His father had died, taken from this existence without warning and even He the most stoic of men was devastated.

She placed the small table carefully in front of her Master. Care needed to be taken to ensure the bamboo legs made no mark on the rice paper floor covering. She had prepared the tea in the adjoining anteroom not wishing to burden His eyes with her yet unacceptable clumsiness and only bought the small teapot and bowl He preferred. Pouring the slightly green liquid into the bowl was an art in itself. The volume needed to be exact, just sufficient to quench His thirst but never more than was needed. This she felt comfortable doing. Each previous pouring had been but a rehearsal for this moment when all her abilities would not shine in radiance like the sun but rather simply allow the moment to pass quietly, without disturbance to His intense mournful meditation.

Sakura turned the bowl carefully in her hand, wiping the brim with a silk cloth she had produced from the sleeve of her dark blue kimono. She had not considered wearing black, to do so would suggest a much more personal connection to the deceased than her position allowed. She edged forward from the table towards Raion. She had practiced this movement till it was smooth and almost silent yet still she felt the room echo with her tiny disturbance of the air. The bowl was offered hopefully, Raion seemed oblivious to all except His own thought. His dark pupils seemed lifeless, empty, jet black pools that could almost be bottomless pits of nothingness. She remembered reading of the black holes in deep space and wondered momentarily if this was how they appeared through the telescopes of the peering astronomers.

Raion's hand reached forward to take the bowl and lifting it to His lips drank the contents in one movement. The warmth seemed to color His cheeks just momentarily before the hand and bowl settled between His knees on the black hakama He wore. Gently Sakura retrieved the bowl from His grasp and returned to her position beside the table without her eyes ever leaving His face. She remade the tea constantly, offering her Master some after each fresh brewing. Sometimes He would react, sometimes he would not but her duty was in the serving not the drinking and she was thankful for her task.

The day passed slowly but without further disturbance. Arrangements were in place for the funeral and Raion had no responsibility till the morrow for anything but contrition. Sakura had told her parents that she would stay with Him for as long as necessary and they had accepted this duty without question. He was the center of her world and today more than ever before she was indispensable. His teaching, her training had no purpose unless used. It was not for festivals or holidays, not for tradition or show it represented the half of a whole that only could exist when conjoined. Today she was the base of Him, the thing that made His devout penance possible.

"Sensei you must eat."

Darkness was falling outside rapidly and not one crumb or grain of rice had passed His lips since yesterday.

"You cannot live on tea alone Sensei, please eat."

Raion's mouth opened momentarily as if to speak but then His jaw firmed and His lips closed into a line of negativity.

"Sensei I have bought you these."

From the sleeve of her kimono Sakura produced two O-mochi, rice cakes filled with bean paste. These she knew to be her Masters favorite and also something that would digest easily and be nutritious. She held them in the open palm of her right hand temptingly in His clear vision. He seemed unmoved, uninterested; she remained still, her arm outstretched. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes joined to become an hour, still she knelt arm straight, statuesque, yet He remained detached. The warmth from her hand was gently heating the cakes and the aroma of bean paste was permeating the air. Sakura felt her stomach cry out in concord with the scent and hoping her Master would concur continued her unmoving request.

Sakura found that this enforced stillness quite easy. She had become accustomed to hours spent in the enclosures of shibari and found this unfettered dalliance quite easy. Her muscles were hard, her body supple, she was prepared by experience for this occasion. It was nearly at the second hour His eyes finally focused on the delicious objects, the third hour before unwillingly He reached forward and taking one of the now body temperature mounds placed it in His mouth. He chewed, He swallowed and reaching forward took the second and nodded. Sakuras heart leaped feeling the cloak of purpose envelop her entire being.

Raion was exhausted. Sakura could sense her Master drifting in and out of consciousness and see the sudden jerks in His body needed to remain sitting upright. Knowing He would be unwilling to leave this room she decided now was the time to take action. She rose silently and walked to the adjoining room to retrieve a bed roll. She carefully flattened the mattress parallel to her kneeling Sensei and placed His buckwheat pillow at the head. Now it was simply a task of waiting. She sat quietly at the side of the roll until He slipped into unconsciousness then carefully lowered and guided His form onto the Mattress. Happily He did not stir.

Kneeling beside Him at His waist she carefully unfastened the bow tying the himo strings across his chest that kept His black haori in place. Gently rolling His relaxed body she removed first one arm then the other from the silk sleeves and finally was able to place the coat to one side. The hakama were knotted with some intricacy but her nimble fingers managed to loosen the twin ribbons and extricate them from beneath Him releasing the waist. The now loose baggy garment was easily drawn down His thighs, over His knees and finally beyond His feet.

Taking a second to remove the white geta socks from His feet she took the hakama and haori to the far side of the room and carefully folded both garments in the proscribed manner. The haori was simple, the hakama more complicated. She had little experience with the numerous pleats but had watched her mother perform this duty often enough to have a good concept. The folded items she placed in the appropriate cupboard in the back room, the geta in a laundry basket and returning to the workroom she regained her position at His side. She concluded He had not moved one centimeter.

Carefully she repeated her previous movements and removed her Sensei's black yukata. She noticed immediately He was sweating profusely and worried He might be beginning to suffer a fever quickly fetched a bowl of cool water, a wash rag and towel. First she mopped His brow, allowing the cool rag to rest upon his skin just long enough to coat His skin lightly with water before dabbing the excess away with the towel. This process she repeated across His face, under the chin and around His neck. Gently moving His arms away from His body she carefully passed the almost dry wash rag up the inside of His arms from elbow to pit then again using the towel dabbed away the residue. She noticed His face calm, take on the recognizable countenance of the Sensei she loved so deeply and sighed with satisfaction.

Raion's chest had a light covering of dark hair. Not heavy or wiry just finely outlining the contours of the hard chest muscles so clearly defined by His years of practice in the martial arts. She continue with the bed bath, enjoying the feel of His skin under her fingers and reveling in this moment of private adulation. His stomach was firm, the slight bulge at the waist from the good diet He normally partook doing nothing to reduce overall effect of physical prowess. The natural build of the Japanese man was often heavy at the waist. This aided the fit of the kimono or hakama and made the tying of the obi from a low front to middle back position perfectly suitable.

Her fingertip traced the livid scar left by an appendix operation on the lower right side of His belly and she carefully noted the still distinct stitch marks that flanked either edge. The wound was obviously very old and she wondered at what age He had suffered the major ailment needing obviously emergency treatment.

The pubic area was cleanly shaved. Sakura had noticed this before of course but was fascinated to see the faint trace of stubble that was showing. The texture fascinated her, the way the hair grew in one direction making it course to the touch one way and completely smooth the other. She was tempted to retrieve the razor from her Masters bathroom cabinet and remove this wayward growth but decided such would be both inappropriate and taking advantage in the circumstances. She sponged the pubic bone above His limp penis and the front of His upper thighs. Placing the tips of her fingers on the inside of His left knee she slowly slid them upwards and was pleased to see the thighs part a little at her progress. Finally when she felt them wide enough she removed her hand and rinsed the face cloth fully in the now tepid water.

Carefully she wiped the creases between His sac and thighs. His scrotum felt heavy and she wiped the skin whilst weighing the twin receptacle's of His seed in her palm. She reached for the towel to wipe the moisture away then wishing not to disturb Him decided on a better course. Bending at the waist she lowered her head and delicately licked the freshly cleaned area tenderly. She swallowed often to ensure that no saliva was imparted to His flesh. The effort was to dry not to moisten.

She noted that even in His exhausted sleep her ministrations had caused a reaction and His limpness disappeared and the full measure of His manhood presented itself to her gaze. She found herself drawn at once carnally but knew that this process was for His comfort not her pleasure. The rag became obsolete. She gathered His swollen head into her mouth and ran her tongue around the mushroom to cleanse and purify. She carefully pulled the foreskin to its lowest position to enable every part of this wondrous velvet dome to be in her purview. Taking a mouthful of water she ran the tip of her tongue from rim to base bathing His shaft before vacuuming the moisture back between her lips. The wetness tasted of Him and she felt herself moisten immediately. Joy of joys she saw a tiny bubble of precum form on the very tip and feasted upon it as if the most expensive fugu. Her throat sang as she swallowed His bounty and felt her body and mind accept her total unconditional submission to His cause.

The bowl, wash rag and towel were carefully placed as they should be, everything must be as He would wish to find it, nothing out of place. She lay the light summer covering lengthways at His side and only then released the obi that held her silk kimono in place. The garment was quickly folded and laid aside, topped by the immaculately gathered length of silk that was the pride of her obi collection. Her under kimono and shift followed till she stood naked over His still comatose form. Now he released her hair to cascade past her shoulders to fall almost to cover her breasts. Laying at His side she drew the covering over their parallel body's and lay still almost touching but separated by a gulf only He could close.

After what seemed an hour but probably was but a moment she felt His arm slowly reach out to gather her to Him. She lay the side of her face upon His chest, so lightly that it might have been a feather, and controlled her breathe so her exhalations would cause Him no disturbance. The day had been a strange compote of sadness and joy, a mix that was a bitter sweet facsimile of life itself. Sakura closed her eyes and waited for sleep. When it came it was peaceful and full of contentment.