Days later, when he was reviewing his conversation with Ikuo, Fred Parks asked Ogi whether, on that day in the chapel, Gii and Ikuo hadn't planned out all their answers ahead of time-at Gii's instigation, mainly-and were pulling his leg. But Ogi was less inclined to think about that than the crystal-clear memory he had of Ikuo that day-a memory that in later years often came back to haunt him.
4
On his final day Kizu had clearly been growing weaker, but he had his pillows piled up high on his bed and, with the lightweight opera glasses Mr.
Soda had brought over as a gift when he came to visit, was gazing at the wild cherry blossoms on the east shore. Ikuo had been watching over him all night, and Dancer had joined them. The night before was a full moon with only a thin scattering of clouds, and Kizu had tried to view the cherries in the moon- light but couldn't see them so well, he said. Checking to see that he'd be all right for a few moments, Ikuo had walked down to below the dam where Gii and some of the Fireflies were parked and asked them to take care of something.
Gii had uncoiled a long line they'd used in the summer conference from a covered outlet at the foot of the outside wall of the chapel and shone a flood- light on the wild cherries on the jutting crags where the bilberries grew. Ikuo was happy that the attempt was a success. But Kizu had been too worn out to lift his head from his pillow.
With no way for Ikuo to signal Gii and the Fireflies by the crags, the young men could do nothing but remain standing next to the floodlight.
Concerned about how things were turning out, Kizu fell into a comalike sleep for ten minutes, then opened his eyes and asked three times whether the flood- lights were still lit. Ikuo looked out at the moonlit ink-colored forest and the cherry blossoms looming up palely in the floodlight and said yes. With the dark gray of the grove of cherry trees just outside the ring of light, the whole scene was one of great depth. But since there was no way they could even get Kizu's head raised up to look out a little, Ikuo asked if he'd like the curtains closed, to which Kizu responded in a listless, muffled voice-Dancer had skillfully helped him get up the phlegm-that it wasn't good to keep the young boys out there if they were still standing by the crags.
As the moon shifted, the surface of the lake was thrown into dark shad- ows and Kizu awoke from a lengthy sleep and asked Ikuo to pose for him.
Dancer acted shocked, thinking Kizu was hallucinating and thought he was painting, but Ikuo knew differently. An easel stood next to the bed, with one of the drawings Kizu had done for the triptych, a sketch of a nude Ikuo he particularly liked. Ikuo stripped off his clothes and struck the same pose.
Slowly tilting his head on the pillow, Kizu gazed intently at him.
"Can they see you from the crags?" Kizu asked, somewhat embar- rassedly, his voice again muffled.
"Even if they can, Gii and the others don't have binoculars," Ikuo replied.
"Can that… stand up, do you think?"
Ikuo looked down. It came to him what Kizu wanted, but he couldn't think of what to do about it. Quick-witted, Dancer got up out of the low chair, moved forward and got to her knees, held Ikuo's penis directly against her lips, and then put it inside her mouth. The penis immediately rose up mag- nificently, and with the momentum as she drew her open mouth back, glis- tening with a line of saliva, it smacked once against her small nose. Kizu, breathing lightly, watched all this.
"So that's what it was like… That's enough, you must be cold."
"No, I'm okay," Ikuo said, but, concerned about his shriveling genitals, he was relieved to put his clothes back on.
"Actually, I can't see too well. That's enough," Kizu said. After a while, he turned to the now-dressed Ikuo and kidded him with a question. "So- the two of you are pretty close now? I'm happy for you."
"Thank you," Ikuo said.
He was afraid Dancer was going to deny it, but she merely glanced up, saliva glistening around her half-opened mouth.
After dozing for an even longer time, Kizu woke again and said, in the same tone as before, "Ikuo-is it really so bad that you can't hear God's voice?
You don't need God's voice, do you? People should be free."
Ikuo couldn't just say what popped into his head. A dark yet gentle emotion permeated him, as if the darkness covering the black lake had risen up and seeped inside him.
"You say… God's voice… told you that… but I think… even with- out God, I want to say rejoice. To me, and to…"
Kizu let out a ragged breath, fell asleep, and then suddenly sat up and vomited dark blood and began to writhe. His upper body, supported by his strong waist, trembled like a caterpillar searching for a leaf. Ikuo was flus- tered, unable to react. Kizu's head fell heavily onto the window frame, and he nearly fell off the bed in the space between it and the window. "Professor Kizu!" Dancer shouted, as if scolding him. Kizu stopped moving and turned in their direction; his head plopped down on his chest, and he breathed his last.
Dancer called out again, leaning forward with her thin shoulders, but Ikuo had already made certain that Kizu was dead. He walked around the bed, pushed open the window, stuck the floor lamp outside, and waved it a couple of times. Because this was what Kizu had been most concerned about.
The light illuminating the wild cherry trees above the crags went out.
What looked like a black smudge appeared in the center of the now pale grove of cherry trees. Once again the top of the forest was under the moonlight, the smudge was soon gone, and a wind they couldn't feel down low rustled the light-reddish and milky-white heaps of flowers.
"The last thing he asked was whether it was really so bad not to be able to hear the voice of God," Ikuo said. "And just before he died he used the word rejoice. To himself, and to… something else, he said."
Ikuo scowled fiercely. Perhaps irritated at his own vague words, Ogi thought, large teardrops began to course down his face.
Ikuo shook his huge head, wiped back the tears, and said, "That was half a year ago… It's been a long year since the summer conference. I've thought about it a lot since then, and I agree with what Patron said. Gii's taken by this idea of a millennial reign, but Patron said he would lead the church as an antichrist. As a free man, I plan to stand beside Gii until he takes over the church."
"I've no doubt Gii is the sort of young man who can become a New Man, but he never told me he believed in God or stood on the side of the antichrist,"
Fred said. Then he closed his notebook and asked very calmly, "Has this become a church without God, then?"
On Ikuo's brawny features a truly beautiful expression arose as he pon- dered this. From the bottoms of the domes on the ceiling, snow melted in the sun and fell off with a thud. The large cylindrical space was surrounded by the sound of water. Between the question and the reply enough time passed that the direct relationship between the two grew fuzzy. When just enough time had passed for Ogi to feel this, Ikuo finally replied.
"For us, a church is a place where deeds of the soul are done."