This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles, Not Quite Dead Enough, and Unbound by the Sea for free.

The world was dead. My world. Heartbeats slowing, I resigned myself to believing that we were both breathing but…

His lips parted, curled back in a frozen cry. Did he die calling for me?

I’d failed us both. Hotaka, I’m sorry.

Above us I felt the hum of magic fade away just like my heartbeat. Thump… Thump… Thump… Thu—

From my ruined body pulled an echo of my soul, clinging to the last remnants of us both. I knew our bodies would wither away but we were more than that and maybe I would meet him again.

Why wasn’t he here too?

I was alone. I wasn’t even sure what I was. My body lay there in pieces, blood and feathers stuck to the stone, and yet I was right here watching. This was different from before, when I soared the skies or had taken the form a bird, or even different from sharing Hotaka’s body.

I just didn’t understand.

And where was Tsukuyomi?

“Suzaku.”

Like an eddy in the wind, I felt the whisper run through me. A call, a summon. Were the gods still watching me? I glanced around to see faces, grey and lifeless as I was.

“Suzaku, come with us.”

“Who are you?”

Pretty smiles betrayed a toothless mouth and stench of rot.

“We’ll take care of you.”

Blackened fingers reached towards me, urging me closer, and I couldn’t find it in me to try and fight them. I felt hollow, empty, numb, and as their fingers found purchase all became nothing.

What are you?

“We are you,” the voice called, giggling with excitement. “Come and join us. We like more.”

Their clouded eyes watched me with a vacant stare, smiling wider as they surrounded me. I could feel a miasma of power, of deathly old malice and the fury of the skies itself. It wound around me and their power became mine. Anger started to flood my senses, my eyes scanning the forest for anyone to unleash it on.

“Shinigami, begone.”

The sky rained, each drop burning my being. We screeched, trying to flee in every direction. Steel blocked our paths. The grey faces howled in agony as they were drenched and faded into nothing. And I remained.

“You,” a deep voice growled. From the cloud of fading grey a figure emerged. “Stay there.”

He was a curious man, dressed as a priest and yet wielding a naginata. The blade at the end of the pole curved into a wicked smile, smeared in black. I watched as he swung it at the rest of those grey faces, following by throwing water high into the air.

Eventually were almost alone. Only Hotaka’s body lay somewhere on the steps alongside the remains of my own.

The man stopped and beckoned me closer, closer to where we lay, blood staining the stone.

I don’t want to see it any more.

“Come,” he called. “I need you to see this.”

Reluctantly, I moved to the grisly spectacle; bloodied feathers stuck to the stone beneath us, and a mangled body still cried to the sky. Why did he need me to see this?

“What do you see?”

I hissed at him. “I see what I don’t want to see. Bodies and blood.”

The man reached out and poured water over them.

“Stop that—”

“What do you see now?”

Rage flooded my mind and I wanted to—the bodies were gone. I stopped. The steps which were dyed crimson now returned to their grey hue.

“Where did they go? What did you do?”

“I showed you the truth.” He turned to face me and bowed low. “My name is Kaima Namikawa. I don’t think you remember me, but, I know you, Suzaku.”

I stared at him, wondering how he could know of me. I’d never met him before. Black eyes stared back strongly, waiting for me.

“You still don’t remember, do you?” Kaima sighed. “Perhaps next time.”

“What do you mean next time?”

He ignored me, however, and walked over to the haiden to pray. I left him and turned my eyes back to the steps. I didn’t understand. Hotaka’s body lay there just moments ago.

Above us the sun began to set, ready to dip behind houses and turning the sky crimson. It was beautiful, and reminded me of being up there, soaring in the skies. It had been so long since I was higher than any human could imagine, viewing them all from above. Until Tsukuyomi came. Everything had been different then. And I’d met Hotaka. Hotaka would have died back then if it weren’t for me, but, now he is dead because of me.

I’m sorry.

I couldn’t save you.

Please forgive me.

“Suzaku.”

A whisper called my name.

“Suzaku, come with us.”

Grey faces surrounded me, beckoning me ever closer. Death and decay enveloped me, hidden behind those grey faces of fury. Inside I too became angry.

I am dead.

I am dead.

I am dead.

“We’re all dead. And it’s their fault! They killed us! They need to pay.”

They will pay.

“Begone, shinigami.”

Screams. Terror. Each face fled or evaporated to nothingness.

“No!” I froze, panicked. “Come back.”

“You don’t need them, Suzaku,” a voice called again.

I turned to face him, angry. “Bring them back.”

“No,” he replied. “They were shinigami, only here to bring evil to the shrine. Do you not remember?”

The man watched me carefully, naginata in hand. Blue hakama and a white kosode showed him to be a priest, although I had never seen a priest wielding such a weapon before.

“Who are you?”

He bowed. “Kaima Namikawa. I am a travelling priest who takes care of shrines such as these, long forgotten and abandoned.

“Forgotten and abandoned,” I repeated.

“Do you remember me now?”

“Remember? What do you mean? We have only just met.”

“Suzaku-sama, would you like to remember?” he asked softly. “I can perform—”
“No.” The words came out before I realised, coming from somewhere deep inside.

“Very well.” He bowed again. “Perhaps next time.”

Next time. Those words echoed in my mind.

“Next time?”

“Yes.” He didn’t offer any other explanation and turned towards the haiden to pray.

“Wait,” I said, following after him. “I—”

Kaima watched me patiently. “Perhaps you would like to pray too?” he offered.

I closed my eyes. Prayer was useless now. How many times had I called for help from the gods, all for them to ignore me. They were the reason Hotaka was dead right now. It was their fault the sky had rained blood as I fell and fell and fell. The gods were the reason I was dead.

“No,” I said, trying to hold back anger. “Prayer will do me nothing.”

Kaima paused, lips ready to fight back my words. He was a priest, of course he would defend his own practice.

Eventually, he managed, “the gods are fallible, just like us, Suzaku. Their power is great and their minds hold much more than we know, but even I know the gods can be wrong. They try their best, and that’s what makes me love them more.”

“It’s their fault,” I hissed. “They killed Hotaka.”

Kaima nodded. “I understand now. You are angry at this, and no wonder. Hotaka-san was important to you. That’s why you are here. But,” he added softer, “you cannot stay here.”

Why would I want to stay here, reminded of all this pain? I would return to the skies if I could, but, I wasn’t even sure if I had the ability now. Nobody knew what happened when suzaku died until it happened. Was I now cursed to roam the lands like this?

Kaima still watched me, black eyes piercing through me. I hated it. I felt so exposed and vulnerable and I couldn’t stand feeling those eyes exposing me further. I turned away and left him to his prayer.

Fire filled my belly now and I was determined to… to… fight? I didn’t know. My mind flooded with mist and fog and all thoughts floated away. Save one.

I would stay here, protecting Hotaka’s body, keeping all away.

I wasn’t ready to let him go.

The morning light shone brightly on the death at my feet. Grey stone stained red. Hotaka was dead and the remnants of my past body lay scattered around him. Vermillion feathers floated in the wind, ripped from my broken wings. I turned away, too numb standing here viewing such heartbreak.

I found myself in front of the stone komainu, their lion-dog mouths full of dried blood. Had they been protecting the shrine? They growled low at me.

“Leave. You bring death with you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I never wished to die here.”

“No,” one replied. “And we saw you try with everything and yet fail. You cannot stay here.”

I backed away, fear and confusion flooding my insides. I cannot stay here. I felt the words in my chest as if they’d been spoken before.

“He doesn’t remember, don’t be too rough on him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked them.

“Wait until Kaima arrives, and ask him to help you remember.” The komainu seemed to stand taller, eyes following a figure climbing the steps. “He is here now. Let him in. Let him guide you.”

I didn’t say a word as he continued to last step, then made his way towards me. Both komainu had gone silent now, though I could feel their intense gaze on us both.

“Suzaku,” he said with a bow. “I didn’t expect to find you here, you’re usually…”

I frowned. “I’m usually...?”

Kaima shook his head. “Don’t worry. Let me introduce myself, my name is Kaima Namikawa.”

“They said you were Kaima, and that I should let you guide me.”

It was his turn to frown then. “Who?”

“The komainu.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, komainu are very intelligent. Only the best for a shrine.” Kaima paused and carefully continued. “They speak of an offer I have given you each time, as I have been here before, many times.”

I snorted. “How can that be? I haven’t been here long. I only just… just…”

“Suzaku,” he said firmly. “Look at me.”

Black eyes watched me, so full of uncertainty. I felt like any movement would have him on guard. I almost wanted to reach for him to see what he did.

“Suzaku of the great skies, you fought a great battle here. I can feel your presence all over the shrine, sad and mournful. You lost a great friend.”

“I did. You walked straight past him as you climbed those bloody steps.”

“No,” he said quietly. “There is no physical body now, just deep remnants of your power.”

“No!” Anger flared inside me. I could see the blood from here!

“Tsukuyomi-sama,” Kaima called out. “You saved Tsukuyomi-sama. Ukemochi-sama was here too. He is grateful for what you did.”

I stared at him. How could he know this?

“Suzaku, something called me to this place. A great evil can be felt from the forest, and the river cries in horror. I have used the sacred water to cleanse this shrine, to get rid of the shinigami who started feasting, who started willing you into nothing. You must remember.”

Shinigami? I…

Grey faces. Lifeless.

But how…

A figure wielding a naginata. Water thrown.

These memories…

My name is Kaima Namikawa.

I am dead.

I can’t remember. Not like this. I was far too weak to hold on, far too dead.

“Do you remember?”

Memories assaulted my mind, seeing Kaima appear day after day, banishing shinigami, nudging me to remember. How many times has he done this now? How many times have I forgotten?

I don’t want to remember.

Hotaka. Someone needed to remember Hotaka and… and…

My vision grew dim. The sky darkened and faded as I was pulled far away once more.

“No.” Kaima growled. “I will not let you forget again. Tsukuyomi-sama! Please hear my call, I need your help. He remembers.”

Kaima’s voice grew quiet now. And I—

White light blinded me. I cried out and tried to flee but I was held fast.

“Suzaku,” a familiar voice soothed. “Don’t fight me.”

“Tsukuyomi?”

“I am here.” Slowly my vision grew until I could see his shape and he smiled at me. “Suzaku, you need to take hold of these memories, of your time here at the shrine. They are painful, but they are still yours.”

Painful? Losing Hotaka was more than that. We’d been together so long his presence became my everything. Together we had done so much. And now I was alone. Tsukuyomi and Kaima stood there but they could never be where Hotaka stood in my heart.

“Once you have done that, Suzaku, then it will be time to let Kaima purify this place. This shrine cannot stay like this, cursed with the evil of bloody murders. Death only brings more death.”

I looked up at him, the same god who had once given me a choice at a new life. “What happens to me?”

Kaima spoke now, standing tall. “I will burn your last remains in appeasement and you will pass on, to wherever loose souls go.”

Silence.

It should have struck me hard, with my mind fighting with every fibre. But, this time I just accepted it. My body was dead, Hotaka was gone, what was really left of me? This echo of my mind clinging onto Hotaka’s dead body? Perhaps it really was time to finally let go.

“Now that you remember,” he continued, “and can listen to us without fading away again, we can help you move on. Before now you were stuck in the moment, stuck with the bodies on the steps.”

I walked away from them back to those bloody steps. Only, they weren’t bloody now. The shrine looked different now, more worn and weary. It too had been battered from what had happened. No wonder the komainu were angry. From the steps my eyes turned to the surrounding forest, the colours now muted and bland from the brilliant greens I had seen with Hotaka’s eyes. I thought it had been a story when I heard it told around the campfire, how everything slowly faded as you fought death and lived again. Was it the price to pay for using magic?

I wasn’t ready to leave this place, my true home. But… What if I could find Hotaka again?

I wish he was here. I miss him.

Kaima padded closer, footsteps soft like the wind drifting by.

“Suzaku-sama,” he said, just as softly. “Hotaka’s life will live on through me. I will make sure his name is known far and wide. And yours. The great suzaku who aided Tsukuyomi-sama, who released him from Ukemochi-sama’s grasp.”

He paused for a moment, waiting for a response. I didn’t feel like talking.

“Amaterasu-sama is thankful too,” he continued. “She came down from the heavens in a blaze of sunlight, blinding Ukemochi-sama. And now the bond is stronger between Amaterasu-sama and Tsukuyomi-sama. The sun and the moon are in harmony once more.”

Together we stood, watching as the sun passed in the sky. Time seemed to fly past, faster than the wings that used to carry me. Before long, it started to lower on the horizon.

“Suzaku-sama?”

I turned to see Kaima. The dying light lit him warmly, despite the lack of colour. “Yes?”

“Once the sun has finished setting, I will light a fire and cleanse this place until it’s safe again.”

The moon—Tsukuyomi—appeared in the sky, big and bright as Amaterasu’s light faded away. Kaima disappeared into the darkness and I was alone. I had been alone before, when I was higher up than any human could understand. I had never missed it, not after I met Hotaka. I thought we would have stayed together until our dying breath, passing with our thoughts holding on to each other. It always left my heart warm to think I wouldn’t do this part alone.

Because, in truth, I was terrified.

Behind me, Kaima had lit a great fire. I could see the flames flickering and the shrine sighing in relief. All would be right again after a cleanse. Fire would purify the great evil that had occurred.

A deep pull from inside dragged me closer, leaving the fateful steps behind once more. Kaima stood, dropping vermillion feathers into the fire. My feathers. One by one the last remnants of my self were being burnt to nothing.

The moon grew brighter. A voice called to me.

“Suzaku, I take your strength and courage and will pass it along to Kaima. He will continue from where you have fallen. You’ve served me well, suzaku of the skies. Thank you.”

Another feather fell from his fingers, floating down into the embers. I wanted to beg him to stop, to let me have just another day. But my voice was empty. I could not speak.

I had no words left, anyway.

Just the cruel ache for my friend.

One last feather sat in Kaima’s hand. He turned to me, eyes full of sorrow. Don’t be sad for me, Kaima, we’ve barely even met.

“Suzaku, I will rename this shrine in your honour and bring it back to life. This will be my shrine until my last breath.”

Thank you.

The last feather fell, swirling in the plumes of hot air.

It was as if I could fly one last time.

My last journey, soaring into oblivion.

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This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Rain pattered down on the black roof tiles for the thirteenth day in a row. At first the drops had been small, just a normal day of rain, however now they fell fat, splashing upon landing. From the grass jumped a happy frog, relishing in all the water now pooling on the stone floor. It was always interesting to watch the wildlife and I often found my mind wandering from my duties to all the birds, insects, and even the occasional deer that came to visit the shrine. What were their lives like, roaming from place to place, unbothered by time?

I dipped out from under the protective tiles of the shrine’s roof and out under the somewhat protection of the umbrella. The bamboo frame was sturdy enough, and the paper had been oiled to repel the rain, but even the best umbrella wouldn’t hold up in this rain. And I had a long way to go. Down the steps I went, thankful the long teeth on the soles of my red geta kept me high enough out of the puddles… for now. They would only last me until the edge of town, after that they would sink too deep in the soft earth, and so I needed sandals. Today I was braving the weather to travel out to Aokigahara, hoping to finally stop the rain. It had come as a surprise to us all, especially as the rainy season wasn’t due for another three months; for it to last this long meant something was very wrong.

At the shrine we had spent every day praying to Amaterasu for her light and warmth to breach the rain. We’d used so much incense that my nose refused to smell anything now, and even out here in the fresh air, nothing hit my senses. I’d spent each morning with mirrors and drums, singing until my voice was hoarse and then evenings calling to any other god who would listen. All were silent.

In the meantime, people had braved the heavy rain to come to the shrine each day, speaking to the priest in hurried hushed tones. Yuurei had been possessing women in the night, speaking one word over and over: forest. And now it was my duty as a miko to investigate. What if it was Amaterasu trying to contact me? She had chosen indirect ways before, out of fear. Though it certainly made me worry when she did. What made the goddess of the sun fear? If it wasn’t her, the resolution would be simple, the priest would travel out to the houses the yuurei had visited and he’d exorcise them all.

Water spilt down the umbrella, soaking my red hakama and sticking the fabric to my legs; I’d only made it as far as the shrine’s exit dry. I stepped through the last red torii gate and out onto the town path, the weight of my duties weighing heavier on my shoulders. In the shrine I always felt lighter, being as close as I could get to Amaterasu without possession. Out here it was like being lost in the sea in a small boat, pushed around by large waves ready to drown me. Never had I felt further from her.

I stopped for a moment to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I was a miko of Amaterasu’s shrine, this was my duty to listen for signs of her, and also protect the town and it’s inhabitants.

A sharp wind whipped the umbrella from my hand and I let out a surprised shriek. The bamboo slipped through my fingers so easily, and it landed down with a hollow thump, the paper ripped. A bad omen? I stooped to pick it up and checked the rip. It ran down to the centre, following the bamboo supports and I sighed. I’d picked this white umbrella to match my kosode which had joined my hakama in sticking to my skin. Even the thick collar wrapped around the back of my neck tight. Nevertheless, I would keep using it. Even a little protection from the rain was better than none, and the skies above were darkening.

I quickened my pace onwards, gripping tighter to my umbrella, hoping I could reach the forest for more shelter. Despite it being early morning, the light grew dimmer and dimmer until only a fraction of Amaterasu’s light touched the area.

Head ducked, huddled under the broken umbrella, I passed houses and workshops and a few others braving the weather. They rushed with their own umbrellas, kicking up water in their stead. I didn’t stop along the path until I reached a quiet and cold smithy with a broken roof. Weather had battered it and rain quenched the glowing fire until the owner, Kurachi-san had to relocate elsewhere. His wife was one who had been possessed by a yuurei, the ghostly figure stealing her away from him. His luck had been as bad as mine.

From a bag at my side, I took out a pair of sandals and switched from my geta and tabi socks. I would leave them and the umbrella here for later, tucked out of view. I took the moment to shake off any water and brush back loose hair with my hand.

Although I didn’t have to worry about being possessed by the yuurei, like the other women, there were plenty of other yokai which haunted the forest. Lumbering oni lived on the sides of Fujisan and many had seen kitsunebi deep in the forest, well aware to stay away. Thankfully, we’d had no issues with kitsune, at least, none that we’d found. I’d need to watch my step both for yokai and the soft ground, as much of it had started flooding, unable to soak up any more water.

Fujisan towered high in the distance, the mountain an ever-present stability in my life. It was a sacred place for many, and I always enjoyed seeing it every morning as the sun rose. It would give me strength now.

On I moved towards the forest, the great boughs in the distance catching some of the rain and offering much needed shelter. I hurried along the worn path until a great oak stood. Dipping under it’s branches, I glanced around for anything out of place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but a cold chill ran down my spine as my senses tingled. I could feel the remnants of yuurei, ghostly tendrils that wrapped around tree trunks and beckoned me closer. The air around me grew thick and the sky was blotted out by branches as I continued deeper.

Snap.

A twig, a branch?

My heart hammered. I spun to face the noise.

Nothing.

I was too on edge.

“Ukie-san,” a breathy voice whispered in the wind.

From my kosode, I pulled out a hidden tantou, warm from my chest. I was taking no chances.

“Ukie-san,” it came again. “Closer.”

And I followed. Step after step the voice grew warmer, louder, until I ran. My chest grew bright with love, I knew who was calling for me. Wet earth slapped under my feet until I burst through to a clearing, startling birds scattering into the air.

Here the forest met the very edge of Fujisan, I’d been here before with the priest. Large rocks scattered the ground, freshly fallen from the mountainside.

“Go to the rocks,” the warmth whispered in my ear.

I kept my eyes on them as I neared, frowning as a familiar form sat so brilliantly in the grass, out of place, as if it had broken from the very side of Fujisan.

“This is Murasame,” Amaterasu-sama whispered. “You’ll need it.”

Bending down, I brushed the dirt and loose stones from the long scabbard. I’d never seen such a huge sword before.

“Amaterasu-sama, what am I to do with this? How do I bring it home?”

Silence.

I couldn’t leave it here alone, not after Amaterasu herself gave it to me. But, I also couldn’t bring this back without difficulty. The sword was longer than I was tall! My only choice was to carry it as best as I could.

“You really test my faith, Amaterasu-sama,” I muttered and rolled up the sleeves of my kosode.

By late afternoon, I’d made it back to the town. It was still raining. I’d actually become thankful for it cooling me down as my muscles burned with exertion carrying Murasame as best as I could. A horse trotted by, kicking up mud and adding it to the bottom of my once red hakama. A samurai sat on its back, head covered by a bamboo jingasa. It and his dark blue kimono both bore the three triangle crest of the Houjou clan. He came to a slow stop and looked back at me.

“Miko-san, do you need assistance?”

“Oh, um, yes please,” I called back over the rain, taken off-guard.

Slipping off the horse, he walked over, eyes following the length of the sword with appreciation.

“I need to take this to the shrine.”

“To the shrine?” The samurai hefted Murasame into his arms. “Is this a sacred sword?”

I nodded. “Sent to me by Amaterasu-sama herself.”

Together we walked, my legs wobbling, but I was determined to continue all the way to the shrine.

“If you are tired, miko-san, you may sit on my horse,” the samurai said as his horse followed us obediently.

“I’m fine, thank you. Although I wish to know your name, samurai-san, so I can thank you properly.”

He bowed his head and smiled. “Masatoshi Houjou. And yours?”

“Thank you for your help, Houjou-san. I am Ukie Shikawa, miko of Motosu shrine.”

Climbing the steps of the shrine made my muscles burn, and I so desperately wanted to stop. I was nearly home though, only a few more—

I hit the wet stone with a dull thump.

“Shikawa-san?”

“I’m alright I—”

“Here,” he said, laying Murasame down beside me. “Let me carry you up first.”

“No, no. Murasame is more important. I am soaked through anyway, I will take a small break.”

Houjou-san frowned but I straightened my back to try and stop him from fawning over me. This was hardly the hardest thing I had to do for Amaterasu and I’m sure there would be equally as many challenges in future.

“Please take Murasame to the priest, Endo-san.”

“I’ll return, Shikawa-san,” he said, and hurried up the slippery steps.

As soon as he was far enough away, I slumped in exhaustion. A coldness now filled my bones and my fingertips wrinkled with moisture. I really hoped Murasame was a part of stopping the rain, because why else would Amaterasu give it to me. I had no clue how a sword, and a large one at that, would stop rain, but I trusted her. Perhaps it was infused with her light, or maybe even another god’s. Michi-san would know. He’d been a priest for Amaterasu since forever. Even as a child he had been here, tending to the shrine. His father before him, and even his grandfather had also been here. It was lucky, in truth, that he also wanted to be a priest, especially after his mother named him Tadamichi, with the first kanji meaning loyal and the second meaning path.

Houjou-san returned faster than I expected, and bowed quickly to me before offering his arm. “Please, Shikawa-san, let me help you up the steps.”

It would be bad manners to deny him again, so I took the offered arm and we made our way up.

“Endo-san was surprised to see the sword, but he is taking it to your room for safe keeping.”

“Thank you,” I said trying not to wobble and fall a second time. “I will pray with it later to see if Amaterasu-sama will enlighten me as to its purpose.”

“Few samurai use an odachi,” he said gesturing to the swords at his hip. “A tachi is more useful and practical on the battlefield. And the wakizashi is for closer combat.”

“Yes,” I said laughing giddily. “I can’t imagine anyone swinging around Murasame. Except maybe an oni.”

I laughed, but the thought was terrifying as I imagined a huge oni wielding Murasame without issue. I was thankful they liked to live deep into mountains, only appearing to drag our livestock away, and the unlucky traveller. Those who lived closer to oni-occupied caves often left livestock closer to the entrance, hoping to appease the foul yokai.

“And the gods,” I added quickly, trying to move along my thoughts.

Houjou-san nodded, but stayed silent until we passed through a torii gate and dipped under the first roof. “The Motosu shrine is wonderful. Such a beautiful shrine for Amaterasu-sama.”

“It is much better when it’s not raining,” I said, releasing his arm. “I hope you can see it in it’s full glory. Right now… it won’t stop raining.”

“I had heard,” Houjou-san said, still looking around. “At first I couldn’t imagine it to be the truth, but now I am here I understand. Such a bad omen.”

“Yes.” I sighed. “Something is happening that I can’t fathom, something Amaterasu hasn’t spoken to me about yet. Now I have Murasame, I hope to figure it out. Thank you for helping me up the steps, Houjou-san.” I bowed deeply. “As well as bringing Murasame all this way for me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I couldn’t leave you out in the rain, and admittedly, I was interested in how a miko ended up carrying such a large sword.”

I smiled. “Please return to the shrine again, perhaps for tea. I would offer now, but I’m in no state to host.”

“I will return,” Houjou-san said. “My horse needs a rest, so I’ll be staying here for two nights.” He bowed. “Goodbye, Shikawa-san.”

Houjou-san dashed off back into the rain, nimbly disappearing down the steps as quickly as he appeared. I tried to ignore the little flutter in my stomach, it was just exhaustion after all. Certainly. Anyway, anybody else would have helped me too, whether for favour from the gods, or because they knew me. My clothes indicated exactly who I was and could be seen easily anywhere from town.

I needed to focus on my task. First, I needed to get out of my wet clothes and—and I’d left my geta at the blacksmiths. I’d need to return for them later. Once I was dry, I would then look at Murasame and pray.

And no thoughts of helpful samurai were going to distract me.

The next day brought as much rain as the day before, and the day before that. I knelt now in a kimono, tea to one side, and Murasame to another. The sword gleamed in the light, now gently washed of the dirt. Michi-san had been extra thorough with cleaning, although hadn’t taken the blade from it’s sheath yet. The tatami dipped beneath me gently as he leant forward and took hold of the handle.

“Now to see it’s true beauty,” he said, slowing drawing it out. He stopped halfway and pointed to the sharp edge. “Look at this Ukie-chan, the hamon is wavy. Kurachi-san would be really interested in seeing this.”

I nodded and sipped my tea. “Yes, we should invite him to view it… with the other samurai.”

I’d spent the night before in meditation and prayer, asking Amaterasu for guidance. What did she want me to do with this sword? Silence. The moonless night passed on until dawn broke behind more rain clouds, and only when I was ready to collapse with exhaustion did the faintest sound hit my ears. Find someone to wield it.

When I woke next, my head throbbed and my muscles barely listened to me as I tried to move. I ached all over, even muscles I didn’t know about burned with movement. Michi-san shone almost as bright as Amaterasu with excitement and I let him do most of the work. Together we’d agreed to ask the samurai nearby to visit the shrine, hoping one of them could wield Murasame well. To be chosen by a god for such a task was a blessing none of them would want to refuse.

“I will send for them.” Michi-san said pulling a shoji door open a crack. “I would wait until the afternoon, so we could reassure the people we are dealing with this. However, the rain is worse today. We need them here now. Lake Motosu has swelled higher than ever before. Farmers tried the fields again yesterday but have finally abandoned them. The earth is swamped and keeping away even the most stubborn farmer.”

“Amaterasu has never been so quiet, I’m worried. How are we supposed to keep going when we don’t know what this is even for?”

He turned back to face me and smiled. “With faith. Amaterasu-sama has not abandoned us. She needs us, and we are here. All we can do for now is what she has asked, while also taking care of the town. Remind them that Amaterasu’s light will dry away all this rain once she is able to shine again. The plants will grow stronger and our crops will be plentiful.”

I stared at the tatami. It was hard to hold on to my faith sometimes, but I would keep strong. Yesterday had been the first test, I knew. And Amaterasu certainly trusted me with such a sacred object.

“Let’s hope the samurai can wield Murasame,” I said, finally.

I returned to my tea and watched as Michi-san left the room. If I was to keep up, I needed to let my body rest, and so I would sit here with my tea waiting next to Murasame. I wasn’t going to let a sacred object be left alone for long anyway. Such objects are normally sealed away safe and secure and the odachi was here laid on four red zabuton in a row, cushioned.

Despite Michi-san’s words, worry still nagged at me. What if nobody could wield the sword? Carrying it was one thing, but using the blade was something else entirely.

My eyelids fell slowly as the tea warmed me from the inside and I found myself drifting to sleep. I needed to stay awake but the pull of sleep was too strong. Before long, I found myself standing on a grassy field overlooking the sea. Waves crashed against the shore, the rhythmic sound calming to my ears.

“Ukie-san.” I turned to find the sun on my skin. She smiled. “It’s been a while since I have been in your dreams.”

I bowed my head. “Amaterasu-sama.”

Her long black hair was tied back elaborately and wore a kimono of gold and red. I lost my breath.

“I can feel your worry,” she said, stepping closer and taking hold my hand. “I know I haven’t been able to speak to you like normal, I will explain fully soon. When the samurai arrive, pick the one who has a strong heart. Someone who can wield Murasame in my stead and will do their duty to me. I will trust your judgement Ukie-san, my blessed miko.”

“Will this stop the rain?” I said, feeling the dream dissipating. “I need to know.”

“If the samurai can do his duty, then you will feel my light again.”

Amaterasu let go of my hand and a chill crept into my bones. “Please. Don’t leave Amaterasu-sama.”

“I must,” she said, pulling something small from her kimono. Amaterasu held her hand out and opened it to reveal an omamori topped with a white string knotted up. The amulet was the same colour as her kimono. “A reminder, and all the luck you will need.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the gift and bowing low. “Amaterasu-sama.”

When I looked back up, she was gone. However the omamori still sat warm in my hand. I touched the silk gently and smiled. This was similar to the ones we sold at the shrine as good luck. But what better luck was that from a goddess? I tucked it into my kimono. I had a stronger purpose now, and I would not disappoint Amaterasu.

My eyes opened to the same room I’d drifted from. Murasame sit sat soundly beside me and rain still fell onto the tiles over my head. I couldn’t help but feel inside my kimono for the omamori, and sure enough, it was snug against my skin.

I drained the last of my now cold tea, and stood. I would retie my hair and prepare more hot water for tea for each of our guests, and by the end of the day, pick for Amaterasu.

I didn’t have to wait long before the first samurai arrived. Satake-san was from the clan to the east, journeying with his younger brother who knelt next to him. Both didn’t acknowledge Murasame at first, and enjoyed the tea prepared by Michi-san who had spread the word in the town. Houjou-san had followed soon after and my eyes lit up seeing him again.

“Shikawa-san,” he said, bowing his head. “I return, as promised.”

“Please, join us,” Michi-san said, gesturing to the tatami. “My friend Kurachi-san will be here any moment. In the meantime, would you like tea?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Then, perhaps some rice?” Beside Michi-san lay a tray with full bowls of rice and chopsticks. “The rain has made many extra hungry, so I prepared these just in case.”

“Here you are,” I said grabbing a bowl quickly and offering it to him. “Please keep your strength up Houjou-san.”

“I… Thank you, Shikawa-san.” He took the bowl gratefully and I smiled.

I carefully took a bowl of rice for myself and enjoyed the lingering warmth. Once the bowls were empty, Michi-san gestured to the reason we were all here.

“This here is Murasame, the sword you have all come here to see. The sword one of you will wield for Amaterasu-sama. She needs our help.”

Kurachi-san’s eyes lit up, and I could tell he was eager to take a closer look at it. “You can touch it,” I said to him. “It is a sacred sword, but we need you all to try holding it.”

Kurachi-san wasted no time in kneeling before the large odachi and running a finger along the scabbard. “The craftsmanship is beautiful, the patterns here in the wood would take long to craft. This is the work of an expert.” From there he gently grasped the handle and slid the blade out, just as we’d done. Michi-san knelt beside him, supporting the scabbard so the whole blade could be removed, until it lay across Kurachi-san’s lap.

“Midare hamon that looks like the large waves of the sea. This isn’t easy to make.” Kurachi-san frowned as he lifted it. “It’s heavier than expected, even for an odachi of this size.” He stood and held the long blade out towards the rest of us, eyes running down the odachi. “It’s also thinner than it should be. A sword made for one reason. A one strike kill.” Kurachi-san carefully lay it back down unsheathed and knelt back in his original place.

“Are you saying it will break after the first blow?” the elder Satake brother said. “How is anyone supposed to use that?”

“I can do it.” The younger brother jumped up. “I have more faith than Yata-chan has.”

Just like Kurachi-san, he lifted it and held it out to strike. His mouth crumpled into a thin line and his arms shook with exertion.

“You can’t do it, Goro.”

The younger Satake held on a little longer before conceding to defeat and laying it back down. He knelt back down with a huff.

“Perhaps you can lift it, Houjou-san,” Michi-san said.

Houjou-san stood and like the others, held it with care. My heart sunk as he held it out for a moment and lay it down again.

“Yatarou-san is correct, I do not understand how Amaterasu-sama expects someone to wield this. It’s too long, too heavy. It would unbalance anyone without the perfect stance.”

The last hope in my chest fell to tatters, but I knew I couldn’t lose it. Amaterasu must have a plan.

“Please—”

“I’m sorry, Shikawa-san,” Houjou-san interrupted and bowed his head. “During a battle there are many things to think about. We must rely on our swords and use them without hesitation.”

“May I try?” We all turned to find a new figure in the doorway, bowing his head. “I’m Norisuke Nakami, sorry I’m late.”

“Of course,” Michi-san nodded.

I watched as he entered and approached. He was dressed in a simple grey kimono and his black hair was tied tight on top his head. Despite his appearance, something nagged at my stomach. There was something wrong.

Nakami-san’s fingers brushed the blade and he pulled away with a yelp. “It’s hot?”

I scrambled closer, feeling protective of such a sacred sword and gingerly touched the blade too. It burned with the heat of a roaring fire.

“Get away!” a new voice hissed.

Light flooded the room and I buried my head in my hands.

“How dare you step into my shrine.”

Amaterasu-sama?

I opened my eyes to find her standing in front of us all, standing in the way of Murasame. I bowed deeply, pressing my head to the tatami.

“Amaterasu-sama? What is wrong?” Michi-san said in confusion.

“This man is not to hold Murasame,” she commanded. “He works against us.”

A cold blade touched the back of my neck. I froze. “Let me leave this place and your miko will be unharmed.

The room went silent. I thought quickly. I couldn’t see Nakami-san’s legs, but if I lifted my head slightly, maybe I could—

Through gritted teeth Nakami managed, “you—” before the blade lifted.

I scrambled away to find him on his knees, grey kimono stained dark. Houjou-san pulled his sword out of Nakami-san.

“Thank you, Masatoshi-san,” Amaterasu said with a smile. “I would see no harm to Ukie-san.”

Yatarou Satake hurried to the door. “I’ll go get—”

“Stay,” Amaterasu commanded. “His life is of no consequence. Not now.”

My goddess stood proudly, the light around her dimming. Despite this, she looked troubled and worry marred her face.

“Thank you all for trying to wield Murasame,” she said, starting slowly. “And protecting it. I’ve had to stay secretive until now, because of him.” She pointed to Nakami-san who was looking between Amaterasu and the growing patch of blood at his belly. “I can’t show myself or interact with the world much right now. I can’t risk this going wrong, and he would have ran back and alerted the wrong gods.” Amaterasu sighed. “My brother, Susanoo, is creating all this rain. He’s out of control. Any time I get close to him he flees and creates more destruction. That’s what Murasame is for. I need one of you to strike him, to stop him long enough that I can get close.”

“Ukemochi-sama won’t let it happen,” Nakami-san said, laughing with pain. “They are ready for Susanoo to destroy the whole country.”

“Silence,” Amaterasu commanded. He listened.

Kurachi-san slowly walked past Amaterasu to Murasame, then bowed to her. “I will do it.”

What? But he wasn’t a samurai?

“I’ve spent most of my years making weapons, yet never using them. Plus, who would expect it to be me.”

Amaterasu took hold of his hands. “Then I bless you, Itami Kurachi. Please help me.”

I’d excused myself soon after Kurachi-san stepped forward. My mind raced. I couldn’t find rest at all. The whole thing had been chaos. Amaterasu’s plea, watching a man being stabbed right there… I could still feel the cold blade at the back of my neck. The shrine was a sacred place, one where these things weren’t supposed to happen at all. And with Amaterasu-sama right there! I’d kept my composure long enough to walk away before bursting into tears. I was scared, so scared. My body shook and I kept walking until I’d made it from the shrine to a small orchard that hid behind it. I came here when I needed to think.

The rain pattered on my umbrella like my tears falling from my cheeks. Just like the rain, I could not stop them. No matter how many I wiped away with the sleeve of my kosode, they always came right back. So I rested on a tree stump, not caring how much time passed, trying not to think of how close to death I could have been, and yet failing at that too.

Eventually I could see a figure heading towards me. At first I thought it’d be Michi-san coming to tell me to be strong, however I was greeted by a deep blue kimono getting darker with each drop of rain. Houjou-san.

“I’m sorry Shikawa-san,” he said stopping before me and bowing low. “You should not have seen what happened today and I take full responsibility.”

“No, no,” I replied quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “It is not your fault Houjou-san. Please stand up.”

“No, you were in danger and we failed you and Endo-san. And then you saw the consequence.”

I bowed my head. “Then I must apologise for being in the room when it happened.”

“But you—”

“If you are at fault, Houjou-san, then I am too,” I said, lifting my head. I would have looked him in the eyes, however he was still bowed deep. After a moment, he met my eyes.

“No wonder you are favoured by Amaterasu-sama, you have her strength.” Houjou-san smiled a little. “I shouldn’t have doubted the miko of Motosu shrine.”

Despite his words I still felt like I would crumple at any moment. Fear still had it’s grips deep in my skin.

“It’s always hard, the first time you see it,” Houjou-san, eyes now on the green leaves of the trees, bending with each raindrop. “Shikawa-san, while you were gone, we spoke about how to proceed now. We all decided it would be best if you stayed here at the shrine doing all you can to keep Susanoo-sama from figuring out the plan.”

“Ukie, you can call me Ukie.”

Houjou-san turned to me and smiled again. “Thank you, Ukie-san. Then, you can call me Masatoshi.”

Masatoshi-san’s smile left a warmth in my chest once more. I was thankful he had come out to find me, if I could have made this moment last longer, I would have. But, Amaterasu needed us to act. I’d spent long enough out here.

“I will do what Amaterasu-sama wishes, no matter what that entails. If I have to see death, I won’t avoid it. Fear shouldn’t keep me away from what needs to be done.”

Masatoshi frowned. “No, it shouldn’t. But you also shouldn’t walk blindly into harm. I… I wouldn’t like to see you harmed.”

“You’ll be there, right?” I asked, heat starting to tinge my cheeks. “Then I’ll be safe?”

“I…”

It was strange seeing a samurai so flustered and lost for words. He stepped closer and I could feel his heat radiating; it reminded me of the sun gracing my skin and giving me strength. Brown eyes looked at mine, and I knew. Just like my own heart thumping wildly in my chest, his did too.

“I plan to go up against a god,” he said quietly. “Something I have never trained for, but I will do as Amaterasu-sama asks. And I’ll do it for you. Then the rains will stop and you can rest.” He stopped a moment before his voice turned to a whisper. “It’s against etiquette and wrong of me to ask, but… no, I sh—”

Lifting myself up on my toes, I pressed a light kiss to his lips.

“Ah!”

“Yes.” I chuckled. “You can kiss me.”

Stunned, Masatoshi was speechless, before leaning down to return the kiss. I reached out and rested my hand on his broad chest, letting the umbrella in my other hand fall to the ground. His lips were warm and needy, I could tell he was holding back.

“If fate allows it, I will live and kiss you like this again,” he said once we parted.

I nodded and rested my head on his chest, wanting to be closer to him. He was hesitant at first, then slowly wrapped his arms around me.

“Nobody can see us here,” I assured him. “It’s just us.”

He kissed the top of my head. “As much as I want to keep it that way, we should return to the shrine.”

“I know,” I sighed into his chest. The last few days had been so long and tiring and to be held like this… “Promise me you won’t die, please?”

“How can I now?”

“Oh!” I pulled away and reached into my kimono and pulled out the omamori Amaterasu had given me. I held it out to him. “Here, Toshi-san, this will help you too. It came from Amaterasu-sama herself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, marvelling over the delicate charm in my hand.

“Yes, this way you can protect me, and I can protect you.”

“Thank you, Ukie-chan.”

I blushed deeper, this time caught off guard by him. I’d never had such a nickname before, at least, not since I was a child. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Now, let’s return.”

The plan was pretty simple. Susanoo needed luring closer, and once close enough, Kurachi-san would strike at him with Murasame. He would be hiding in his now-cold smithy until Susanoo approached. The only problem was bringing him closer from wherever he was. Amaterasu had remarked he wasn’t too far, as he’d been spotted at a nearby coastal town he’d destroyed. Now it was my duty to catch his attention. I planned to pray with Michi-san, begging for protection, and hoping to boost his ego. If that didn’t work, I would taunt him instead. It felt incredibly wrong to do so, but Amaterasu had assured me it was right.

The Satake brothers had dragged Nakami-san’s now lifeless body away and were going to stand guard to protect any townspeople. I could sense the fear in them, but who wouldn’t be afraid, knowing they would be up against a god? We were just human.

And Toshi-san was beside me, carrying Murasame. He didn’t want Kurachi-san to tire himself just taking the large odachi to his smithy, so he held it firmly.

Rain continued its everlasting pitter-patter but for once I didn’t mind. If all went well, it would be over soon, and we wouldn’t have to worry about flooded fields and Amaterasu’s light would fully reach us again. I smiled. I had faith and hope.

“Kurachi-san’s workshop is at the end of this path,” I said to Toshi-san, avoiding a large puddle. “He had to abandon it because of the rain, so it’s a little flooded.”

“It looks like many people have had the same issue,” he replied. “I never imagined how bad rain could be.”

“We’re lucky to not live right beside the lake. The water swelled higher and broke the banks.”

It was comforting talking as we walked along the stone path. As much faith and hope I had, I couldn’t help but be terrified too. But I wouldn’t let it set deep in my heart. I had to focus.

Thankfully, we arrived at the smithy fast enough and found Kurachi-san waiting with Michi-san.

“Ukie-san, I have the incense lit and ready. Kurachi-san found a dry spot for us.”

“Please,” he said gruffly. “You may call me Itami. There’s no need for formality here.”

“Agreed,” said Toshi-san. “If this goes well, I’d be happy to call you all my friends.”

Toshi-san offered him Murasame, and he took the handle and drew him from the scabbard. “I will keep it unsheathed so I’m ready at any moment.”

Toshi-san laughed. “Are you sure you aren’t a samurai? You remind me of my brother.”

“Now,” Michi-san interrupted. “We bring Susanoo here. Amaterasu-sama will be watching, but she will not intervene until it’s assured Susanoo won’t be able to flee again.”

I walked across the smithy to a cleared shelf now filled with three sticks of burning incense. The smell hit me deep in the chest, reminding me of all the times before when I’d tried to contact Amaterasu. Closing my eyes, I sent my mind outwards. I needed to drop any thought or feeling of Ukie and become only a miko. My only purpose was to connect with a god, to reach an existence that most people didn’t know even existed.

A metallic noise chimed. Michi-san had struck the small atarigane, keeping a part of me grounded to the earth. I was ready.

“Susanoo-sama,” I called, “god of the seas and bringer of all this rain. I pray to you now, beg for you to listen to me. Please grace me with your presence, I want to thank you for all this rain which will wash away our enemies.”

Silence.

“Susanoo-sama, I—”

I cried out as a wave in my mind crashed over my being. Coldness chilled through my body, but I held on tight. Deeper and deeper I fell in the water, drowning into dark depths. This was Susanoo’s mind.

“Miko, how dare you reach into my mind. I will bury you at the bottom of the ocean. With your last breath you will cry and beg and nobody will hear you. But I will know.”

Fear flooded my body and weakness crashed me to my knees. He was too strong. I tried to let go.

“Oh no,” he said, gleefully. “You cannot escape me now. You wanted to talk to me and I’m right here. I will be the storm in your mind until you beg and beg and beg for freedom.”

There was no escape, any attempt blocked by a maelstrom of power. How could a god be so powerful? I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t—

Chime.

I was still grounded. I still had a body.

“You… You’re a coward,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “A weak god. You won’t drown me, I bet you can’t even move my body, let alone drop it to the bottom of the ocean.”

Laughter. “We shall see.”

He broke the connection instantly and I was back to my real body. I dropped to the floor.

“Ukie-chan,” Toshi-san cried in alarm and bent down beside me. “Are you alright?”

“He’s coming.”

Outside, the rain fell heavier than I’d ever seen it fall. Water pounded the inundated earth, sending rivers flowing past us. The wind whipped past the doorway and howled through the street. It was what we couldn’t see that terrified me, however. Like a typhoon, a presence descended, and all I could sense was a deep dark blackness. I grabbed hold of Toshi-san, the warmth of his arm gave me a moment of safety.

Next to me, Michi-san had also collapsed to the floor. His eyes were shut, his mind elsewhere.

“No,” I cried out, “what are you doing? He can’t—Susanoo is too strong. I need—”

Wind stole my words away as one side of the roof was ripped away. A push and I fell backwards. The other half came crashing down, heavy roof tiles landing with a thump. I coughed. Dust coated my mouth. Looking up, I screamed. Toshi-san and Michi-san were buried under the roof, legs poking out from the rubble.

Standing in the broken doorway was a figure clad in a deep blue haori. Black eyes blazing with anger, he watched my every move. I knew exactly who he was. Susanoo. Where was Itami-san?

Susanoo stepped forwards and the rain followed him. “We are the sea and you will regret. I will drown you where you stand. Drown you like the many before you.”

A flash of light. Itami-san rushed forwards, swinging down Murasame towards Susanoo. The blade grazed his kimono as he stumbled backwards, slicing the silk open. He didn’t get a second chance. Susanoo sent Itami-san’s body flew sideways and into a barrel of water. Murasame clattered to the floor. No matter how much he flailed to escape, Susanoo held strong.

“Stop it, stop it!” I yelled at him, tears clouding my vision. “Don’t kill him.”

“You’re next.”

I hurried to Murasame. The odachi was too heavy, too long in my hands as I tried lifting it. Susanoo just sneered at me; I’d never seem a god so cruel, so ready to kill. I gritted my teeth. I had to stop him.

Sunlight burst through the rain, and for a moment I was blind. Amaterasu-sama. And if I was blind…

I lifted Murasame as high as I could. A strength filled me and it rose even higher. And with one strike, I let the blade fall. All my anger and faith made the strike hit true; I felt the blade slice flesh and Susanoo screamed.

Light gone, I fell backwards. Amaterasu appeared next to me.

“Begone, ara-mitama.”

Susanoo collapsed down to his hands and knees, panting and coughing. From his mouth dripped black. Breath after breath he spat more of it out until it writhed and grew into a beastly figure. Fangs grew from their mouth, which showed as they grinned.

“How dare you,” it eventually spoke, deep and guttural. “I was having fun.”

“No, how dare you use my brother,” Amaterasu growled, light blazing around her.

They laughed and stretched their arms. “I must thank you for letting me free, however. I may not have the seas now, but this world will feel my wrath. You may call me Amanozako.”

Amanozako took a step forwards. From the floor Murasame rose and Amaterasu took hold of it.

“Take another step and I will strike you down.”

She growled at Amaterasu, baring her fangs wide. Amaterasu raised the blade, but before she could strike, Amanozako fled out of the broken doorway.

“I-Is it alright to let her go?” I asked quietly.

“I will deal with her later,” Amaterasu replied. “Let me fix this mess.”

Around me tiles and debris lifted, revealing Toshi-san and Michi-san; blood splattered their kimono and they lay groaning in pain.

“Are you both alive?” I asked, not moving for fear of interrupting Amaterasu.

She continued to rebuild the smithy with ease, until her eyes shifted to Itami-san. I couldn’t bear to look at him, slumped in the barrel, legs hanging out. Amaterasu walked to him and gently lifted him from the watery grave. Light filled the room once more and all I could do was close my eyes. Every pain and ache slowly lifted from my body until all that remained was the warmth and love for my goddess. After a while I opened my eyes.

“You all helped free my brother from his ara-mitama, and I bless you all. The wild part of his godly soul turned into the foul beast that left just now, but not before making my brother rampage. I will need to undo all this destruction.”

Susanoo finally looked at us all, pain lining his face. “I’m sorry,” he said to his sister.

“I think you should stay here,” she replied. “Help those here and those you’ve wronged. I’ll return later.”

She left us then, taking her sunlight with her. I didn’t know what to think or do. None of us did. A broken god sat on the floor in front of us, kimono in tatters.

“I… I need sake,” Itami-san managed.

A few days later, I was sat in the sunlight, admiring the orchard. Sunlight. The rain had stopped soon after Amaterasu had left, and we’d been able to travel back without umbrellas for the first time in a while. The Satake brothers had kept their promise by keeping the townsfolk away, and although a few houses had been flooded, nobody else had been hurt. They’d returned home, much like the other samurai who has paused to rest in Motosu. But not Toshi-san. Every day he’d been to the shrine to visit me, checking how I was after everything. I knew though that one day he’d have to go back home, and it hurt my heart.

Susanoo-sama had also been gently guiding the water away, letting farmers return to their fields and soon the town was busy again. He’d stayed at the shrine, influencing things from afar, too afraid he would hurt anyone else. In time, I knew he would walk down the street like the rest of us, but it would take time.

And I would be here for that, helping him, ready to answer when Amaterasu called me again.

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This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Human lives were short. Considerably shorter than those around me, and that of myself. I’d once been one of them, cramming a lifetime into those short years. But then my eyes had been opened forever. How was anyone supposed to truly appreciate the world around them without all the time they ever needed?

Hundreds of years had passed since I’d been given a choice I greatly desired, and now here I was. I’d experienced many things: love, pain, war, death… And there was only so many times you could get close to a person just to watch them die before you closed off to the pain. I’d buried my heart with my past lover, and it was for the better. Once I’d spent all my time amongst the people learning all that I could, finding each and every thing intriguing. Now I mostly left them to it, watching from afar and noting down anything interesting. It was a conundrum. I needed more time to explore and experience what I wanted, however, the longer I lived, the harder it was to find fun. After years of wandering Yamato, I was becoming bored.

Others like me found happiness with the gods, catering to their wants and whims. But not me. I owed my new life to Inari, but I would never help her.

The gods played games with those beneath them and I wanted no part of it.

Instead, I had been travelling down the country, wanting to find the very edge of Yamato. Stopping in every coastal town, I’d eventually found a boat heading to the biggest port in Kagoshima, nearly the furthest point. Only Okinawa, islands out far away, were further.

The captain, a short man with tough weathered skin, boasted the swiftest boat any had seen, so I’d asked him to take me.

“Why does a young woman travel alone?” he’d asked, worry clouding his face.

“I am in search of my husband,” I lied. “He went off to fight and never returned. I need to see him one last time, no matter how long it takes.”

And the captain, believing me, had taken me the whole way, watching over me. I didn’t need his help, but appreciated his concern nonetheless. He’d been so sincere I couldn’t bring myself to change my likeness to his wife or the young miko he’d met at the shrine the day before, and spent the night with. His thoughts lay so close to the surface, nearly anyone could read them.

I had almost been surprised he hadn’t approached me during the whole trip, but after an evening of choppy seas and delays in reaching the port, he’d knocked at the door of the room he’d graciously given me. I didn’t turn him away in the end. He was sweet enough, and I wanted to experience how different sex was out on the waters.

Frankly, I wasn’t impressed. What I was impressed by, was how a sailor, far away from the source, could locate a tsunami and where it hit.

“It was a big one,” he said, laying on my bed naked and sweaty. “The waves rocked the boats pretty bad, but the waves weren’t too high.”

It was true. We waited in Shibushi Bay ready to dock and all the boats around us rocked and swayed more than normal. The captain had been impressed that I hadn’t vomited into a spare bucket, though I could hardly admit to my true nature.

“If I had to guess,” he continued, eyes flitting between my naked breasts and the floor, “it hit the coast around Suruga Bay to the north-east.” He nodded firmly and managed to look me in the eyes. “Have you seen the tall Fujisan? The great mountain by the sea. Somewhere in that direction.”

I had, actually. The snow capped mountain had been holy long before the humans realised. Despite my hatred of the gods, I returned to the mountain every spring. That was the birthplace of my current form, deep in the forest of Aokigahara, where Inari had awoken us all in our new forms. Other kitsune, the older and more divine tenko, watched over us, hoping we’d all follow in their footsteps.

Not me. I was nobody’s messenger.

Instead I’d taken to tricking the nearby oni, even imitating their form until they were frightened of their own shadows. I’d gotten bored too fast, however, and slipped away one night, choosing to wander the country instead.

“Don’t worry about the water,” the captain said, mistaking my quietness as fear. “Most of the time it is one big wave, so it should be over now.”

“I have nothing to fear.”

Once we finally docked the next morning, I looked out at the sea. Surrounding me was water as far as I could see, and a few islands dotted in the water on my far right. Sailors spoke islands even further than Yamato, ones dotted all over the ocean. One day I’d sail to them and keep going, never to return to Yamato.

For now, though, I was intrigued by the tsunami. The north-east was calling to me. Although a tsunami was uncommon, over my years I’d seen a quite a few. They wrecked the coastline and caused pain to those who lived there, however, it also created opportunities and new growth. If not for them, certainly for me. I knew this was not something to miss. The problem was, I needed to be there now and I was far away. The boats wouldn’t go back in that direction any time soon, they’d be too worried about being caught in stronger waves and smashed along the shore.

My new search sent me inland along the Kimotsuki river. I was in luck, travel on foot or by horse would take far too long, however the warm south was inhabited by the white-naped cranes and they were perfect. Walking along the riverside was peaceful in the early morning air, and it didn’t take long to find what I was after. The large grey bodied crane stuck out in between the lush greenery. It watched me carefully with it’s beady eye, ready to fly in a moments notice. Luckily for me, I was faster. Slipping off my geta sandals, I ran for the riverbank and launched myself into the air. The crane shot up, beating its white-grey wings heavily. My fingertips brushed the feathers as it passed me… and the next second it was me beating my wings in fear of the human. Up and up I flew, spooked, until the cool air surrounded my wings. Slowly I took more control, forgetting the fear and giving one purpose. Fly north-east.

And so onwards I went, flying over the land and people going about their daily lives. Lonely shrines, busy streets, and forests spanning forever. I would keep going until I saw it again, Fujisan. I wouldn’t stop these wings until we arrived.

Further and further I pushed the exhausted crane through the day, desperate for rest and food. I let my magic flow into the muscles and silenced them all, beating the wings faster, and soaring across the skies. Eventually, Fujisan peeked over the horizon and I relaxed a little. It wouldn’t be much longer now. I glanced at the coastline and even from up here I could tell it didn’t look right. Brown sticky mud and sand spread out smothering the land. The captain had been right. Water had flooded fields, destroyed towns, and no doubt, killed many.

I started to descend and more damage began to emerge. The nearby town had been obliterated, wood and smashed roof tiles littered the ground. Amongst the wreckage, the remains of a shrine stood out. A stone torii gate had weathered the assault, although now a fraction of its former glory. At its base knelt a figure scrubbing away the dirt.

Pushing the crane on one last time, we flew lower and lower until our feet touched the soft ground. A salty stench saturated everything and I wrinkled my nose, thankful we weren’t by the sulphuric hot springs, at least. Carefully, I split from the crane, gaining my own body once more. I ran a hand down its feathery back and thanked it for working so hard, sending more magic to help heal.

For myself, I changed back into the travelling woman. If anyone asked what I was doing, I would talk of my husband out at sea when the waters rose and crashed on the shore, hoping to find him. Many humans empathised when it came to loss and grief, it made them easier to overlook actions.

Now with my disguise ready, I watched as the crane flew off and walked along the broken path towards the wreckage of the town. The shrine was close enough and it wasn’t long before I could see them again, the figure and the shrine. It was a man who now bowed before a near empty platform. In front of him sat three bowls barely full. As I approached closer I could see they were full of rice, and the last one cloudy sake.

“Please Oo-Inari, this is all we could spare now our fields are gone and food is low. We beg for your aid, and Ukemochi’s. I can’t watch my town starve.”

Inari? How would she help here? And Ukemochi. The fields weren’t dry or slow growing, they were gone. Neither god would just gift food, even for their most devout.

The man stopped his prayer and turned to me. A light frown dipped his eyebrows and he watched me carefully. I bowed my head.

“You’re not from here, are you?” he asked as he stood. “Can I help you?”

“No, I am a traveller. I’m—”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing here. The whole area was washed away by the tsunami. We can’t offer you anything.”

I paused. He was rather blunt. His eyes betrayed sleep deprivation and with the lack of food, perhaps it was out of preservation more than anything.

“Sorry,” he continued, rubbing his face with his hands. “I am tired, hungry, and Inari-sama isn’t answering me.”

“They are probably answering so many right now,” I said, stomach churning in disgust at having to make excuses for them. “Though Inari is always difficult to speak to.”

“You pray to her too? She used to answer me all the time, but now… You’re right though, we aren’t the only place hit by the waves. And so many people are dead.”

“Who knows what the gods do when we can’t see them?”

The man watched me a moment. “You should know, kitsune.”

I stared at him in disbelief. There was no way he could see through my disguise, it had always worked and—

Poof I could feel my nose transforming back to it’s vulpine form. I cupped a hand over it, but it was too late.

“I was right.” He bowed low before me. “Inari-sama was listening after all, she sent you to me. I have luck after all.”

“Wait, how did…” I tried to brush away my embarrassment. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t use honorifics, and spoke in a way I’ve only heard from elders. So I decided to guess.”

“A guess!” I hissed. “How rude.”

“I’m sorry,” he said bowing again and again. “O-kitsune please grant me your favour and help renew my town. People are dying and I cannot help them.”

I huffed. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do now. The indignation had me wanting to abandon them all. As I deliberated in my head, the man bowed lower and lower until he was on the floor at my feet.

“O-kitsune, I beg your forgiveness. How else could I be sure without surprising you?”
I tried not to groan, of course he knew the kitsune weakness. Him needing my forgiveness was good, however, and something I could use. I wonder what I could have him do to repay me.

I wanted even longer, until the man was flooding the shrine with his tears.

“I will help you,” I said eventually.

Thank you, thank you,” he said, bowing again. It was almost becoming embarrassing.

“Please stop that though, you don’t need to. What is your name?”

He returned to his feet and did a final short bow. “Oujirou Sato, I’ve taken to leading Chigasaki as everyone is so tired. I’ve had little success as most are too frightened to leave the remaining houses. May I ask your name O-kitsune?”

Many men asked after my name, and in each town I plucked a new one to go by. Today I decided to go by Kichi. As a word it meant good fortune written one way or peril in another. Sato-san would have to learn which one I’d be.

“Kichi.” I smiled.

“Kichi-sama, would you like to meet with the survivors? I’m sure they will be pleased to see our praying has worked.”

“Sure, although I’d love to become more acquainted with you, Sato-san.” That made him pause. Inwardly I smiled. He was just like the rest, and such an easy target. I relaxed a little and lightly touched his arm. “Perhaps you could find me a task to help while you sleep? Sato-san, you’ll collapse down and then how will you help the others?”

He mumbled a reply that I didn’t catch, but I chuckled all the same.

“Are we going?” I asked.

Sato-san nodded and led the way from the remains of the shrine. I followed after, making a note of all the destruction. It was hard to believe any humans survived with how bad everything looked. Broken wood lay scattered under black roof tiles, all the way from inland down to the shore. A few houses had remained, I could tell they’d been hastily repaired with the remnants of other houses and loose pieces of debris.

After a few minutes we reached the closest building. It seemed to have avoided the damage of most, its neighbour taking the brunt of the water’s force. That lay in ruin now, with only a few wooden beams showing it had existed at all.

“This is where most of our people are right now. There is another house over there—” He pointed across the land to where a larger house stood. “—which is for the sick, and another beside it full of supplies and anything salvageable.”

“And the dead?”

Sato-san’s face darkened. “The dead we have laid on the outskirts, covered to the elements. We haven’t had chance to deal with them yet.” He sighed. “Everything feels wrong when we can’t act. People are too frightened of another wave to come out and start rebuilding, all too aware that even if there was another wave, it could take them too. None of this shore is safe from a tsunami. But, now you are here, things will improve. They will listen to you, and I am thankful for Inari-sama sending us a tenko.”

I paused. Tenko? He believed I was a tenko? Was his mind too clouded by faith and desperation? Or perhaps he hadn’t seen any kitsune before.

I didn’t correct him, however. Wondering if I could somehow play it to my advantage.

Sato-san slid open the door and entered, pausing only to slip off his shoes. “Okaeri,” he called, greeting everyone with his return.

“Tadaima,” came half-hearted responses.

People sat on damp tatami, some huddled together, others curled up asleep. I stopped. These were broken people. What did they have to offer me? All the times I’d tricked humans before I had pretended to stumble on food and sold it to them, or found lost belongings stolen by tanuki. But these people barely had housing, my normal tricks would not work here.

“Please listen everyone. I have been praying and Inari has blessed us. In her stead she has sent us a tenko.”

Hushed voices whispered until one spoke up. “A tenko? I don’t believe you Sato-san. Why would Inari listen to us now?”

Another deep voice spoke from the corner. “We should be praying to Tsukuyomi instead, he’ll bless us truly. Did you see the gift he gave Aichi-san? She’s not removed it since.”

“Please,” Sato-san pleaded. “She is real.”

I stepped from the hallway into the crowded room and bowed. “Nice to meet you all, my name is Kichi. Sato-san speaks the truth.”

A room full of eyes stared at me, looking over my well kept red kimono. None of them dared to speak out against me for fear of Sato-san telling the truth.

“Can you really help us?” came a young voice. In the corner of the room huddled three children, clinging to each other for safety. “Can you save our mama?”

“Perhaps,” I answered, “I make no promises. I would need to see all the damage here.” I faced Sato-san. “Can you show me the injured?”

“Yes,” he said, “I should check on them too and see if they need anything else.”

“Tell mama we love her,” the children called out and Sato-san smiled.

“I will Ai-chan.”

Leaving the house, Sato-san led me towards the two houses further out. The area was quiet and I was surprised to see nobody had dared start working on rebuilding. A tsunami was uncommon and two waves were even rarer. What had really made them afraid?

“You wonder why we aren’t out here working on the town? It should be obvious, just stand back up and rebuild. We’re a coastal town, of course we have seen waves before, even ones which crash up high on the shore. But never like this. They’re all frightened and exhausted. We’ve all lost our homes, families… Even the bravest men now cower. The waves that hit us were unlike anything we’ve seen before. The gods are angry with us, but we have no idea why.”

I’d seen coastlines battered over and over by forceful waves, obliterating anything in its path before. Towns wiped, fish thrown far and wide, rotting alongside bodies. However, gods had not created that destruction. If they were indeed angry, would they have obliterated so many towns at once? Even I doubted they were that callous.

“Are you sure?”

Sato-san nodded. “You heard what was said in there. Aichi-san saw them herself. We found her wrapped in the finest kimono, crying, wailing over her family and how the gods left her behind. You can ask her about it soon, she is staying with the sick right now.”

The next house looked sturdier than the last, although it too was patched up with wood held down by half-broken roof tiles. Outside a woman washed a large cloth in a bucket of water.

“Ohayo, Sato-san,” she said as we approached. “Are you looking for Aichi-san? She’s inside.”

Sato-san nodded. “Thank you, Haru-san. I’ve brought a guest for her to meet.”

The woman watched me carefully, but said nothing. I offered a small smile, understanding her wariness. Everyone here was exhausted, trying their best to keep their spirits high and reclaim the remaining remnants of their lives. I often saw how humans clung to the items around them, putting so much worth in every piece.

One time I was just like them. I enjoyed the feel of the kimono, the bite of fresh fruit, the smell of the seasons changing. I collected patterned beads which I attached to my obi, different colours for each season. That didn’t matter to me now. I almost couldn’t understand how I used to feel back then, all those years ago.

I didn’t miss it.

“Kichi-sama?”

Sato-san stood in the doorway watching; I broke my reverie and followed after him. The inside was more dire than I anticipated. People lay in the cramped space, barely any room between each broken body. Bandages wrapped around arms, necks, faces, someone had definitely lost an eye. And tiptoeing around them all was a woman in a simple pink kimono. Her black hair was tied back, though strands escaped and rested against her cheek. Despite the tiredness evident in her face, her eyes shone with a vigour.

I knew that look. She’d met a god. They always looked like that, thinking they were special and it was the best thing in their life. I had that look once. It died the moment I awoke as a kitsune. Poor human, if only you realised the gods weren’t what they appeared to be.

“Aichi-san,” Sato-san said, beckoning her closer. “How are they doing today?”

“They’re stable,” she said looking around the room. “All have made it this far, and all have strong spirits. We’ll soon be able to join in rebuilding.”

Aichi-san beckoned and guided us away from the injured and to a room filled with hastily built shelves. Each one heaved with supplies, bandages, boxes, and on the opposite wall a shelf half-filled with food.

“We salvaged everything we could, and I have sent a few helpers to keep searching, but I think everything else was washed out back into the sea.” Her voice dropped a low whisper before continuing, “we’re running low on good supplies. The food isn’t lasting long, much of it was spoiled by the water and mud. Haru-san is washing all the cloth we’ve found, though it’s not enough to go around for everyone. How are the others doing?”

“Scared. I’ve been trying to coax people out to help rebuild, but I think they’re too worried about being washed away. Hideki-san watched his wife drown, Shinji-san has lost his whole family and can’t sleep. Only Taro-san has been helping me and I know he’s worried for his brother who is in your care.”

Aichi-san sighed. “I hoped more would have been ready. We can’t survive like this for long.”

“Things will be better now,” Sato-san said with a smile. “Inari-sama has listened to our prayers and help has arrived. This is Kichi-sama, a tenko.”

Aichi-san’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

“Yes,” I lied. Or didn’t lie. My name truly was Kichi, but of course I wasn’t a tenko.

“Inari-sama wants us to survive, what else could this mean,” Sato-san said, blind to his own foolishness. “Please tell Kichi-sama about what you saw that night the waters came.”

“Oh,” Aichi-san blushed and glanced away. “I almost died that night. The water took me and I thought that was it. But it wasn’t. Susanoo-sama saved me and took me to Fujisan where Tsukuyomi-sama also appeared. He gave me the most beautiful kimono I have seen.”

They both made me sick. The gods didn’t give so easily. Both of them were blinded by their faith. Faith and desperation. I couldn’t fault them, and yet it would be their ruin.

I excused myself and stepped outside. In all my lifetime I’d only met Inari, though I certainly knew of the others gods. Inari had told me of how Amaterasu fought with her brothers, and how her own wife stewed in resentment at Tsukuyomi. One time I’d been by Inari’s side, ready to do anything for her. I was just as foolish as these humans.

I’d need to investigate the area to see for myself if the gods were still involved here. And if they were, I would leave. I wanted nothing more to do with them.

Over the next few days I did as any tenko would do, guiding people into rebuilding, offering advice, and blessing anyone who asked for help. It was all a lie. I didn’t know how to rebuild a village or what fields were best to plant crops in. Taro-san’s brother was feeling better, and both now worked on clearing and burning debris, Shinji-san still couldn’t sleep, but I’d exhausted him with work until he finally slept for a day straight, and Hideki-san mourned his wife though with some gentle pushing, he went into the forest to gather what food he could.

Others too came to me for more advice, once they finally exited their safe little home. Sato-san had only showed me one of three houses which was filled with survivors. It was no wonder he was overworked and exhausted.

In the meantime another house was being patched up, some faces began to smile, whereas others were fearful. Early in the morning it had finally been time to deal with the dead. They’d been placed side by side along with unusable wood and all burnt, each one purified by the fire. I’d been the one to start it, bathing them in my kitsunebi. I made sure it looked just like ordinary fire, though it’d burn all day and night without issue. It was one little thing I could do to help them.

Since then I’d noticed people were more open to me, and though still treating me with reverence, they also spoke of small matters and confided in me. Mimi-san was scared the gods were punishing her because she had lacked faith in their abilities. I’d tried really hard not to speak ill of them for fear of being found out, but my words of un-blind devotion, speaking of how even the gods could be wrong soothed her heart.

I’d been annoyed that I hadn’t been able to search for more clues about the gods intention for this place. Every time I opened my mind to feel for any lingering remnants another person interrupted me. At first it was irritating, though I couldn’t stay annoyed at them for long. They were slowly losing their fear and working on rebuilding, finally. I’d even been included on the gossip as some rested, speaking of each of the men. All except Sato-san.

At first I didn’t mention it, but more and more I realised the were avoiding his name.

“You speak so highly of all the men, though I can’t help but wonder why Sato-san’s name has never come up.”

Taut expressions. I’d hit a mark. “Yes,” one started slowly. “He is a strange one.”

“We appreciate what he has done,” another chimed in. “It’s just…”

“Yes?” I asked, trying to keep them going. “You can confide in me.”

“After the wave, he stepped up to look after us, but it’s not all about kindness. Being in charge is getting to his head. He’s taken one of the newly finished houses just for himself saying he needed it. As the days go on I feel he is getting greedy and not thinking about us all any more.”

I nodded, trying to appear wise in some way. “Perhaps I could speak with him.”

“He likes you very much,” the first lady blurted out. “He’ll listen to you. Oujirou-san gets jealous when we spend time with you.”

As I opened my mouth to speak, I looked up to see the source of our gossip wandering over. I hadn’t really noticed what they spoke of, I’d been too busy talking to everyone to have much of a break.

“Kichi-sama,” he said with a quick bow. “I am going to pray at the shrine, please come with me?”

The girls looked at me with sympathy and I feigned a smile. “Yes, I will.”

Together we walked from the growing hope towards the shrine that I despised. “Kichi-sama,” Sato-san started, voice full of pride. “Your time here has been invaluable. I wanted you to know you inspire us all to keep going, soothed our fears that another wave will take the rest of us away. And you have calmed the storm in my mind, trying to fix everything at once. From here the village is being reborn better with your help. Just this morning we found fruits undisturbed from the trees, ready to be eaten. Another blessing from our beloved tenko.”

Tenko. I didn’t need the reminder.

I didn’t respond to him.

As we approached the shrine, Sato-san lead me along a different path, one away from the shrine and towards the sea. I didn’t say anything, content to walk in silence side by side, until we stopped on a ridge. He said nothing as the sea rolled in along the shore and back out like the world breathing. Warmth surrounded me and for once I felt calmer. I hadn’t even realised how worked up I had gotten, my muscles tense and unforgiving. This wasn’t like me at all.

Sato-san stepped closer. “I thought this place might be better than the shrine. You don’t seem to keen on going there, of being reminded of your divine duties, and here you can have longer to think from everyone. I’m glad you were sent to us, you’ve helped them all. Thank you, Kichi.”

Just Kichi?

“You don’t mind,” he said quickly, “me calling you that? I don’t mind if you call me Oujirou. Sato-san feels too formal now, after all the time we have spent together.”

His black eyes searched mine, filled with hope and uncertainty. Despite the many years I’d spent around humans, doing as I pleased, this was the first time such a request made me pause. It was a simple thing, really, and I usually didn’t mind about honorifics. But this time… my chest lurched strangely.

“Yes,” I said, trying to ignore the feeling. “You can call me Kichi, Oujirou.”

He smiled then, brightening up his tired face. He’d slept only a few hours each night even with my urging for more, and always looked like he was going to collapse down any moment.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I should be thanking you, you were the one who brought me out here. I needed this.”

“You’ve been taking care of everyone except yourself. Admittedly, I know how that feels, and how much a break would help things.”

“Ah,” I said slyly. “So this is a break for you too. Good. You can’t keep going on like this. It’s not a weakness to rest. In fact, you should lay down right now.”

“But—”

“No, no.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “I am telling you to lay down and rest Oujirou.”

His eyes widened at my touch, but he did as I said and slowly knelt down on the grass, brushing away loose stones. I followed him down, kneeling beside him and brushing the silk on my legs flat.

“Here, you can use my lap as a pillow.” Oujirou tried to protest until I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me. “Now I will make sure you rest too.”

Slowly he lay down and rested on my lap, head turned from me, heavy with fatigue. Reaching up, I started to stroke his hair gently, lulling him into full relaxation. Together we’d both be able to rest now, in the peace we both deserved.

As he drifted off to sleep, I thought about the gods.

I believed in Aichi-san’s story, that Tsukuyomi, or another god, had visited her. That was obvious enough. But in the time since, he hadn’t returned. Nor had any other god. Closing my eyes, I scanned to the area around me. The land felt wrong, all churned up and mixed with traces of magic, as if the god had been imbued with every droplet. But no god had that much power.

Each god left a mark on the land that few could see; Amaterasu left behind blazing golden light and Inari’s was red. This was a blue so deep it was almost black. The tendrils of magic choked the area, swamping it in darkness. It swirled around me, drawn to my light, ready to overpower and snuff out my own magic if I let it. I shuddered. If a god could do this with such ease, what would they do to a kitsune like me?

I needed to leave. Oujirou wouldn’t be happy, nor would the other villagers but… And they were stronger now. They didn’t need me. I should return to exploring the land and finding new people to trick. It was all I needed.

I opened my eyes. Oujirou lay on my lap. The sun cascaded down on us in our moment of rest—and I wanted to stay here in this moment forever. I turned Oujirou over so I could see his face, see his tired eyes shut and at peace. My hand cupped his cheek and my heart stirred.

“Kichi?” he said sleepily, and I pulled away. “No.” Oujirou grabbed my hand and held it to his chest.

Beneath is his own heart thumped wild. A heart I would have to break.

“What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t look at him. “I have to go.”

He frowned. “Back to the others, or…”

“No. I need to leave this place, return south or wherever I go next.”

Oujirou was quiet, but kept my hand tight in his. “Why? Was it something I did? I don’t know all the rules about kitsune and—”

“No, no,” I soothed. “It’s not you. It’s this place. The god that was here… I am scared what they could do to me. The magic they have left behind is powerful. I just… I can’t stay.”

Oujirou sat up and faced me, eyes searching mine. “Then can I come with you?”

I shook my head. “You need to stay here and help rebuild. They look to you for leadership, although they tell me you took a house just for yourself.”

“I did, I, uh, I wanted to make sure you had a space, a proper space, as I saw even when you tried to rest the children bothered you.”

Oujirou looked away in embarrassment, or what he thought was embarrassment. Traces of guilt clouded his face, all too obvious to me. Perhaps they had been right after all, maybe the new power he held was changing him.

And yet.

“But I don’t need a whole house.”

He bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

I would need to watch him, just to make sure. It would be a risk, but I could escape the moment I felt more magic from a god. I’d need to be on high alert.

I hadn’t dared to look at the magic around me and him, blinding myself to the truth I could feel in my chest. If it came to it, I’d use his magic to escape.

“Perhaps I could stay a few more days,” I said, hoping I didn’t regret my decision.

A few days became a week, and then two, and then a whole month had passed. It was strange spending so much time around humans, so much that I almost felt human again. I smiled as the next house was completed, as Aichi-san declared another person well enough to rejoin the group now rebuilding stronger than ever. Oujirou had worked harder making amends to the people around him, and they now gossiped about him too. They still joked how he kept trying to get me alone, but praised his decisions.

“Kichi-san,” they said to me, one sunny day, “Oujirou has been working too hard again. You should take him to the hill to rest in the sunshine.”

My cheeks flushed. Our escape had been noticed and the women had dug the information from Oujirou after he’d returned that day. Since then we’d barely had chance for more than a few moments alone, even the ones stolen out of jealousy.

“I’m sure Oujirou-san is too busy for a break again,” I said with a laugh and returned to watching over the children. “As am I.”

“Let me take the babies,” another offered. “Go find him.”

They all spoke to me so friendly now, I almost began to forget my true nature. Kichi the kitsune was soon becoming Kichi the villager. Perhaps they never did believe I was a tenko and now accepted me just as any other.

After being ushered a third time, I stood up from the wooden porch I’d been perched on and left them to find Oujirou. I wandered between half-completed buildings searching for whatever he’d been roped into helping. Men worked diligently with freshly cut wooden beams, bring each house to life. None of them were Oujirou.

“Have you seen Oujirou?”

“In the new house,” one offered, pointing in the direction of the forest.

Most of the new houses were being built on stronger land, hoping that another wave wouldn’t rip them apart as the last one. I walked over, calling his name.

A door slid open and Oujirou stepped out with a smile. “Kichi, you’re here. Come and see, this is my new house.”

I narrowed my eyes a little, wondering why he wanted to show me. All the houses were the same design, something quick and easy to house the homeless.

Oujirou laughed. “I also have a gift for you.”

Entering, it was obvious enough what the gift was, as there on a low table sat a tokkuri and two cups.

“It’s too early to be drinking, Oujirou!”

Oujirou stood beside me. “It’ll soon be night time, you’ve lost track of time again.”

“Have I?” I smiled. I’d been doing that a lot lately.

“Here, sit down and I’ll pour for you. The other woman have told me you haven’t stopped working all day and said I should make you rest.”

“That’s interesting,” I said, giving in and kneeling at the table. “Because they sent me to find you to make you rest too.”

Oujirou found his way to the floor and poured a cup of sake before offering it to me. “I remember the last time we rested well, overlooking the sea. That was a good day.”

Taking the sake, I sipped it, savouring the taste and poured Oujirou’s cup. He lifted it to his tired lips and I noticed all the small changes in his face. His eyes were still tired, although a new light shone within them. A chill went down my spine, he almost looked as if he’d been speaking with gods.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I…” I took a breath before trying again. “It’s been a while since we were able to speak like this and I… I wondered what you’ve been doing since then. I said I would leave before, and I still might have to. There’s a look in your eyes...”

Panic set in and he grabbed my hands. “Leave? No, please don’t. What are your worries, let me get rid of them.”

I stared at the table. Should I tell him the truth? He’d been good to me so far.

“Remember when Aichi-san spoke to Tsukuyomi? There was a look in her eyes and I knew she’d spoken to him, that no lies came from her mouth. You have a similar look.”

Oujirou drained the rest of his cup and stared into my eyes. “Kichi, I wouldn’t do anything to harm you, or make you leave this place. I want you to stay. Not only in this village.” He reached up and placed a warm hand on my cheek. “I want you to stay here, in this house, with me. I’ve wanted it for a while now but I—you are busy and there wasn’t a time to ask and well… t-this is why I have sake.”

I blinked at him. He was telling me the look in his eyes, the ones of devotion and admiration, wasn’t to the gods, but to… me? I opened my eyes to the magic around us, steeling myself to the blackness I felt before, and gasped. I could see a purple miasma surrounding him, the magic of a human; the lifeforce which many yokai like myself were drawn to, that would feast on, if given the chance. It flooded the room and swirled around me, ready for the taking.

I quickly finished my sake. His hand still rested on my cheek and I reached up and placed my hand on his.

“Oujirou…”

“You can call me Ouji, if you’d prefer. I’d like that.”

“I-I just…”

Words failed me. For once my mind was left blank, scrabbling for anything to say. For so many years I had wandered and never found a place I wanted to stay. Not until now. And here was a man, knowing I wasn’t a human, and yet still wanting to keep me close.

“Do you know how many lives I’ve lived? How many years I’ve watched people grow old and die, and I still go on. It’s not easy.”

Oujirou nodded. “I know you’re a kitsune and I shouldn’t ask this of you, especially being one of Inari-sama’s divine tenko. But, my heart belongs to you and I would spend my remaining years by your side, wherever you go, if you’ll allow it.”

As a young kitsune I had fallen in love with a merchant. He’d won me over with gifts from far away places and ignited my need for travel. I’d watched each day as he grew older until his last, shattering my heart into tiny pieces. I’d tried again a few more times but nobody had ever replaced his love.

Oujirou reminded me of him, his tired eyes filled with warmth and his smile drawing me closer. I was the one who played tricks, I was the kitsune. And yet here he was playing tricks on me.

I was fine with having my broken heart locked away. I was fine going where I pleased, doing whatever came to mind.

And then this.

This.

His black eyes waited for me patiently, tinged with worry, expecting the worst. I could break his heart with just a few words.

But, my heart thrummed and ached. I didn’t want to break him.

Leaning closer, I pressed my lips to his, a soft kiss, but not a goodbye kiss. His fingers lightly brushed my skin, trailing down from my face to my neck.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed once our lips parted. “I wish to look at you every day until I die. I’ll never grow tired of your soft face.”

The magic around him begged to be taken now, filling the room with dark purple clouds. If I was to stay here, I would need protection, much more than I’d done before. All this magic, all his magic, it would be mine. As fingers explored further, gingerly creeping down my body, it grew even denser. I had to mute my senses just to ignore it.

Few humans could create such magic, I was in luck. And there was one way that never failed to make magic blossom to it’s fullest.

But unlike the boat captain, and the many more before him, I wanted this for another reason. I wanted to be closer to Oujirou, feeling his bare skin under my fingertips.

“You don’t have to be so coy,” I said, reaching for his obi and expertly untying it. “You can have me.”

I kissed his next words away, undressing him slowly as his hand roamed my body. At first his touch was light until my hand dipped between his legs and he groaned with pleasure.

“Let me undress you,” he pleaded between moans.

I grinned as I let go and knelt up, body waiting to be undressed.

“Kichi,” Oujirou said lust clear on his face. “You didn’t have to stop.”

Despite complaining, his hands quickly grabbed my obi. I placed mine on his. “Perhaps I should do it.”

Want and need begged his lips to tell me no, but gently, he let go. My own hands raised to my obi, pulling gently at the silky material, loosening it ever so slowly. I was in no rush. Seeing him twitch and groan and start to pleasure himself made my movements ever slower, until my own obi finally slid down my kimono to the tatami.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Oujirou grabbed my kimono, pulling at the silk and baring me, eyes hungry over my body. Fingers rolled over my skin, dipping between my thighs as his lips returned to mine. Pleasure began to spread as he kissed a trail down my body, blessing each area with his lips. Backwards he pushed me, until my back touched tatami and he continued his blessing downwards.

I sensed the magic around him again, flooding the whole room now. Running my fingers through his hair as his movements surged the pleasure higher, I stole from him. The magic was mine. The adoration was mine. The love… was mine.

It wasn’t just lust that drove Oujirou onwards, he’d moved on from his blessing, instead now sinking himself deep inside me, his face now close to mine. His eyes filled with so much desire, and yet love still drove him. Soft lips kissed mine, making my heart beat wilder than before. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

What had he done to me, to open my heart once again?

Tears pricked at my eyes and I nuzzled my face into his neck. I didn’t want him to see me like this. A familiar feeling clawed at me, a fear crawling to the surface. I held on tighter as waves of pleasure crashed over us, until I drowned in the ecstasy. Until we both drowned. Deeper and deeper and deeper.

We gasped for breath, holding on to each other as our hammering hearts slowed once more. Oujirou slipped down beside me in exhaustion and I grabbed his arm, needing his touch.

I felt vulnerable. It had been so long since I felt it, I almost didn’t recognise it. I was only vulnerable as a human.

Oujirou cupped my cheek and smiled. He opened his mouth to speak then changed his mind. I was grateful as I didn’t want to speak. Who knew if I even could right now, as my mind raced and spun out of control. Every sense around me was heightened, the feel of fabric, the smell of tatami, even the beads of sweat rolling down my body sent my mind crazy.

How could he do this to me?

I stared up at the wooden beams above, slowly my breathing and trying to take control. I was now full of magic once more, taking more than I could ever want from Oujirou. Never had I seen someone so full of it. Magic coursed through my veins and I focussed on that, feeling the calm presence flowing freely in my body.

I didn’t want to admit to myself, it was love. Not the warm feelings I thought it was, the need to be around someone… No. It was like with my first love. My heart beat for him and was broken, and now mended for Oujirou to take. I loved him.

Oujirou brushed strands of hair out of my face. “Kichi,” he started, smile widening. “Forever am I blessed that Inari-sama sent you to me. You have saved my life. I thought it was the end when the wave came, crashing and smashing and drowning us all. When I realised I was alive, alone, buried in the mud, I prayed over and over. And now you came to me. Now you make my life brighter.”

Should I tell him the truth? What would he think? All this time I had lied to him. I was no tenko, I was far from divine. I hoped he’d forgive me.

I closed my eyes and buried into his chest. Not now, I didn’t want to think about that now. I just wanted this, me and him, here together.

Oujirou stroked my hair gently, holding me close, and for once in the longest time, I felt safe.

The sea water rolled up the beach, waves crashing over and over; the sound had become hypnotic and calming. It was almost hard to believe that not so long ago these very waves had nearly destroyed everything in its wake; houses had been rebuilt, lives returning to normal. And yet I couldn’t help but check the area for magic every once in a while. The black tendrils which had rooted fear deep into me still covered the area, though had started to fade. My own magic had been strengthened over and over by Ouji, just enough to make even the most stubborn god pause.

I opened my eyes again to the fading blackness, feeling it all around me, all emanating from the sea.

Except, one area was black. Not the grey-black of the others, but the fresh black like ink.

“There you are,” Ouji said, sandals sinking in the sand as he approached. “I couldn’t find you.”

Fear hit my stomach and filled my veins with ice. Above, clouds opened up with fat droplets splashing on our kimono. Something was coming.

Waves crashed harder. I was rooted to the spot as the magic deepened. Not something, someone. Water parted, a figure emerged. A man with the deepest blue kimono.

Not a man, a god. I knew the feel of their presence, of the power they held. But this one felt… wrong. Black eyes turned to us. A hollow smile pulled at his lips.

Grabbing Ouji’s hand tight, I turned us around away from him.

“Ouji, run.”

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

The sun rose far too early on the summer mornings; I woke with the birds calling to each other and chicks still begging for worms in the tree above my head. I’d slept beneath a large oak tree that gave plenty of shelter from the rain. It was quite the find and I was pretty proud of myself. It wouldn’t work when the weather worsened, but winter was still far away. Unlike the others, I hadn’t been homeless for long, and it had been misfortune that left me outside each night and begging for food in the day. Like the others, however, I too walked to the nearby temple where the Buddhist monks gave out small helpings of food. It wasn’t much, but was enough to quell a grumbling belly. If I was lucky, my begging would get me some coins or food for the rest of the day.

Two days previous a young boy named Ryuu had been taken in by a local couple and often wandered past in his new kimono and sandals. That was the dream we all had, sat by the roadside watching the people come and go.

“Sakazaki-san says there was another theft yesterday,” I overheard the monks talking as I was passed a bowl, “it seems like we need to do more teachings about greed.”

“Again? I feel Sakazaki-san won’t have a job much longer if he can’t catch whoever is doing this.”

My ears perked up. Sakazaki-san was an official who worked in the town, one of many who worked with money. I didn’t know much about him, except his reputation for spending most nights drinking. Perhaps it was him who stole the money from himself.

I shovelled the rice into my mouth, emptying the bowl as quick as I could. If I could find information on the thefts, which could be easy enough if I sat begging in the right place, I could offer it to Sakazaki-san for money.

Thanking the monks with a deep bow, I left them all behind and hurried off into town. The streets were busy enough already with farmers heading for their fields, merchants ready to make sales, and samurai on top of their horses. I followed the street deeper into town where the government buildings sat bundled together. It wouldn’t be uncommon for beggars to sit here, though we were regarded as a nuisance. Most stayed further out trying to take advantage of the workers, and I often joined them there.

So with my back to the buildings, I nestled down on the edge of the street, half-tucked out of view. I didn’t want to anger those with power, just watch and listen. Surely someone would speak too loudly or too freely without realising, and that’d be my moment. And then I, Daichirou, would finally be able to not beg for one whole day or even more if Sakazaki-san was kind.

All day I sat in the same place watching people come and go. Even Sakazaki-san rushed by when the sun was highest, though for once his mouth was shut firm and no secrets spilt. By the time the sun started setting, I was grumpy, sweating, and very hungry. I didn’t want to leave the spot, however, in case I missed my moment. Then I’d be back to begging tomorrow and the day after and again until I was old. I would not leave until I had something.

The streets slowly became empty as people returned to their homes for the evening. I too had been one of those people once. My father had taught me and my brothers all he knew about making ink, the family business which his own father had started. I didn’t care for it at the time. Both of my brothers were much better than me at learning and so I let them get on with it. Instead I had spent my time in my room drinking and trying my hand at poetry with the ink they made. Eventually my father sent me to live with a distant uncle, who in turn cast me to the streets. I was too proud to go back to my father now. I owned one kimono which had a new brown pattern of dirt and had too many holes now to count.

That kimono was now damp with all my sweat and I loosened it. My stomach grumbled unhappily and for a moment I thought about going to beg at the temple. I couldn’t keep out of my mind that what if I left and the thief returned. It may be a foolish idea, but I just couldn’t risk it. I’d made up my mind.

Grumble-grumble-grumble.

I wasn’t moving at all.

Grumble-grumble-grumble.

Not even a little bit.

Grumble-grumble-grumble.

Maybe just for a little food. Even some leftover rice or half-eaten tofu. If I was lucky there would be a generous family nearby who would feel sorry for me.

I climbed to my feet and brushed down the dust from my kimono before setting off down the street; still keeping my eyes open as Sakazaki-san’s office was close. I imagined a thief running down as fast as his sandals would allow, keeping to the growing shadows of buildings. Perhaps his kimono sleeves were filled with coins, rattling as he ran, dropping one or two for me to find. I kept my eyes to the floor for any stray coins that caught the dying light. So far all I had seen were rocks, pebbles, and the tip of a rat’s tail as he ran away. I sighed. Up ahead were more rocks, pebbles, and a tea kettle.

Wait. A tea kettle?

I hurried over and bent down to inspect it. Had someone dropped it by accident, leaving it to roll here out of sight? It looked freshly made, a plain kettle with a small decoration on the lid. Picking it up, it felt lighter than the kettle my father owned. I’d never owned one for myself, although I was tempted to take this one. Finding the owner would difficult, many people came and went from the town each day.

Something nagged at my stomach, however. Why would a tea kettle be here of all places. It was heavy and—and I was reminded of a trick my brother taught me once.

“This is a great tea kettle,” I said loudly. “I will take it home and use it right now and drink tea all night long.”

I reached for the lid, ready to take it off and—

Poof!

In place of the tea kettle now stood a tanuki, his round brown eyes watching me with fear. In his dark paws sat a pile of coins. He was the thief!

The tanuki took off running. I stood there as he ran on his hindlegs as his belly wobbled side to side. I knew exactly where he was heading, tanuki lived in the same forest I’d spent each night sleeping in. It was exact why the other homeless wouldn’t sleep beneath the trees.

I chased after him, hoping he dropped coins. I wasn’t far behind as he ran on clumsily, keeping a tight hold on the coins. He stopped only to climb up crates and hopped up onto the tile roof where I couldn’t reach him. I kept running, hearing his claws scratching against the ceramic, until we reached the edge of town. From the roof he jumped down and disappeared into the forest as I panted out of breath, so close behind.

Entering the forest, I yelled to him, “I know you are here, tanuki. I know you stole from Sakazaki-san. I can go to him now and tell him it was you who stole his coins. He’s an angry man, he’ll be back here with swords and won’t stop until he finds you.” I waited a moment and took another shaky breath as my heart pounded with exhaustion. “But if you give me just one of your coins so I can buy food, I won’t tell him.”

The forest was silent. Not even the birds were singing now, with darkness sending them to nest. If I strained my ears I thought I could faintly hear drumming coming from deep within the forest. Could it be tanuki-bayashi? The sounds of tanuki drumming away on their large rotund bellies.

Thump.

A coin landed down at my feet in the dirt. From the tree above the tanuki showed itself once again.

“Take this coin and buy yourself food. But if you tell them about me bad luck will come your way.”

I bowed my head quickly. “Thank you, kind tanuki.”

And as fast as he’d shown himself, he vanished back into the forest. I didn’t care then however, as I had my coin. Tanuki surely didn’t realise the value in each coin, probably only knowing it would make them rich. As I plucked the coin from the dirt, I grinned. This would pay for more than just food, I could treat myself for many days with just this one coin. It would have to wait until tomorrow, however. Tucking the coin away in my kimono, I went in search of the tree I had slept under the night before.

The next day I joined the homeless at the temple for our bowl of rice. It was hard to keep the smile from my face knowing what I had hidden in my kimono. Just like every other day, I emptied the bowl and handed it back to the monks with my thanks. I’d spent all night thinking how I would spend my coin, from buying fresh fruits to the biggest piece of tofu I’d ever seen. I wanted it all.

Returning into town, I walked the early bustling market with my coin looking for the best food. Many stalls offered goods I’d once been able to purchase without thought and now wished for. One by one I checked each stall until the most beautiful words touched my ears.

“Would you like to try our sake?”

It had been so long since my lips had tasted the sweet kiss of sake, I missed it like a long passed lover. It wasn’t even an option to wonder if I should try the sample before it was back on my lips and the coin was in my hand. The seller even let me stand right there drinking after taking his money, enjoying the taste once again. Cup after cup, the time slipped by. Customers came by to sample the taste also and joined in my drunken adventure. Eventually the shop turned me away and I found myself crumpled up on a side street, head spinning. When it slowed down enough, I realised why. My kimono, once covered in just dirt and sweat, was now also joined by vomit.

I was too embarrassed to be seen in such a state so I slipped it off and folded it to carry to the river. The sun began to set again and I stumbled my way back out of town to the riverside, hoping nobody was around to see what I’d done. As I walked the path swayed side to side and before long I found myself face first in a patch of wild chrysanthemums. The red-orange petals dropped as I landed, reminding me of the wily tanuki. This was all his fault.

Eventually I managed to climb out of the dirt and threw my kimono in the river with anger. I should have known better than to mess with a tanuki. He owed me new clothes. After dragging my kimono up and down in the water, I squeezed the silk and folded it again. I’d need to hang it from a branch overnight and hoped it would be dry by morning.

As I went back into the forest I called to the tanuki. “Tanuki, tanuki, give me another coin. I need to buy clothes.” At first there was silence until I yelled out. “If you don’t give me another coin, I’ll tell Sakazaki-san that you are the thief.”

Appearing in the trees once more, the tanuki sighed and threw another coin down to me. “This is the last coin I will give you. Don’t come back.”

I bowed my head over and over before plucking the coin from the ground. It was gold just like the first and would pay for the most extravagant kimono if I wanted. Tomorrow I’d go back to town and pick the best and finally be rid of my dirty, holey, kimono.

Just like every other night, I found the tree to sleep under, stopping to hang my kimono up on the branches and hoping it’d be dry by morning.

The next morning was yet another day of heading to the temple and receiving a bowl of rice from the monks, this time with my new coin hidden in my damp kimono sleeves, along with the remainders of what I hadn’t spent the day before. The monks still spoke of Sakazaki-san’s plight, this time finding every coin in his office gone.

The tanuki had to be so rich by now, and yet he only offered me one coin. He was lucky I hadn’t been to Sakazaki-san and told him, I could have been doubly rich.

As I walked into town once more, it was tempting to get his attention as he hurried past me in the street, brow furrowed deep. He’d been foiled by the tanuki many times now and only looked like a fool. Even in the streets people began to whisper behind his back about how he couldn’t catch a simple thief.

Instead of walking through the market, this time I went straight to one of the best kimono-makers. My uncle had bought his kimono from her and I always admired how well it hung from his figure. I’d asked him to buy me something similar, but instead I was given his cast off which was far too long for my short legs.

“Irasshaimase,” she greeted as I entered the shop.

I puffed out my chest. It had been a long time since I’d been greeted so formally.

“I’m in need of a new kimono,” I said, bringing out my golden coin. “Something better fitting than the one I have now.”

“Is there a special occasion?” she asked ushering me further into the shop. “A wedding?”

“No, not yet.”
I smiled. Wearing such a fancy kimono could make me more attractive to the women. My uncle and father would be shocked if I returned with not only a new kimono but a wife too, and even a house of my own. I would need more coins, but I was better than the tanuki. He couldn’t say no to me when the secret was so close to being spilt. The tanuki owed me too. He’d ruined my kimono and reminded me all about the luxuries in life. And now I had to have them again.

Once I had finished being measured and paying for my new kimono, I went straight back to the forest, ignoring the pull of the sake seller beckoning me over to spend more. The trees were swaying in light breeze as I approached, as if they whispered to each other.

“Tanuki, tanuki,” I said. “Please come back.”

I kept calling louder and louder until eventually the tanuki peeked out from behind a tree. “What do you want?”

“Tanuki, you have ruined me. With your coins I tasted sake again and bought the best kimono to wear. Now I can’t stop. I want a wife now, and a house. Then I can drink my sake every night until I am old, and my wife takes care of me.”

The tanuki huffed. “And let me guess, you won’t stop pestering me until I give you more coins. You’ll tell Sakazaki all about me being a thief.”

I nodded. “Yes. I deserve the coins too. I know you stole all of the coins from his office and I’ll send him to you. He’ll skin you and sell your pelt to the blacksmiths.”

“No! No! Please,” the tanuki begged. “I’ll give you more coins. Please don’t send me to the blacksmiths.”

Grinning, I opened up my hands. “Then we have a deal.”

The tanuki seemed to deliberate on his decision before pulling out a sack. “Here, this should be enough to buy a house and a wife, just like you want.”

I grabbed the sack with glee and turned my back to the forest. Tonight I wasn’t going to sleep against the oak tree, hoping it didn’t rain. Tomorrow I wasn’t going to the temple for a bowl of rice. No, I was going to pay for a room and sleep in a futon, waking when I wanted, and eating only the best food.

A few days later, and fat with rich food and potent sake, I lay on my new futon trying to write poetry. Ink drops soaked into the tatami as the room span in circles in my head. I’d drank too much again, but who cared. I had money to do this. This was my house now and in two days I would be wed to a beautiful woman. She had been standing watching the river flowing and her gentle face moved my heart. I promised to buy her only the best things, that she would never need anything.

It was evening and rain fell in heavy drops. I could hear it bouncing off the strong tiles which now gave me shelter. My uncle slept in the other bedroom, I’d invited him over so I could boast about all I had done. He was finally proud of me and sent for my father and brothers. It had been great seeing his face, surprised that I now had such wealth and a bride-to-be and I couldn’t wait to see my father’s too.

“Daichirou Ushida?” A voice called from the main door.

On wobbly legs, I climbed out of my futon and answered the door to a stern face. “Yes?”

“You are coming with me to answer your crimes.”

I blinked in a stupor. “What do you mean? I am not a criminal. What have I done?”

Looking at the man closer I spotted chains under his kimono and a jitte in his hand. The truncheon was only wood, but I’d seen the police use it effectively.

“I have been told that you have stolen from Sakazaki-san’s office and spending it all on luxuries. Days ago you were just a beggar at the temple and now you have a house.”

“I…” How did I explain where the money came from? “It was a gift,” I lied.

“We will investigate this,” he said, watching me carefully.

In the air I heard a familiar sound, of deep drumming. I stepped outside and faced towards the forest. Tanuki-bayashi. The same sound I’d heard days ago. It froze me in place and filled me with fear.

“Ushida-san?”

Looking down, I yelped as my kimono turned to bright red leaves and fell to the ground. What? Still the drumming filled the air along with a deep rumble. I turned to see my house shake and wobble.

Poof!

Instead of wood and tile, my house now changed to sticks and leaves, and fell over with an undignified thump.

“What is going on?” my uncle growled, standing up from a pile of leaves. “Daichirou what did you do?”

Tears pricked my eyes. All of my luxuries gone in an instant. “It was the tanuki,” I cried. “It was all the tanuki’s fault.”

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Cold water enveloped my skin as I lowered my feet into the lake. Winter had come and gone, and the spring flowers bloomed brightly, yet the waters of lake Inawashiro still ran icy. A chill ran up my skin, freezing me, but it was exactly what I wanted. Soon my foot would pale further and I’d feel nothing as it numbed. Soon the pain would go, if only for a brief moment.

It was quiet today, my only companions were the snow-white swans lazily gliding through the water; they took one look at me before hurrying off. It was fine though, I was used to it. Many times I had sat here beside the lake by myself, staring out across the water, seeing Bandaisan towering in the distance. The mountain reached up into the skies with three peaks, each covered in snow. The village closest to it had beautiful onsen tucked away in the nearby forest. I’d visited them a few times, spending my evening soaking in the hot waters.

My foot had lost feeling now, and the ever-present pain dulled to a gentle throb. I’d done too much walking today, travelling from house to house, tending to cuts and illness. I’d even checked over a newborn that had arrived with the cord tight around his neck. Each family thanked me profusely for my help and thanked the gods their children hadn’t been born like me. I pretended not to hear their quiet words, and left as quick as I could. Here, out by the lake, it was just me and sometimes, even for a moment, I could forget about it all. Here with my foot numb and the pain leaving me alone.

I had been born with a deformed foot, one that curled beneath me and rolled further as I took each step. The whole foot turned inwards and no matter how hard my mother tied bandages to make it flat or pull it out to the front, it always curled right back. And so I’d learnt to slowly walk on it, crushing my toes beneath me.

The water broke and from it arose a dark shape. My hope rose for a heartbeat, crashing again as I realised it was a swan from earlier, diving under the water in search of food. What was I thinking? It was too early in the year to see the kappa again. They usually preferred the south at this time, finding warmer water for their families. Sometimes a few stayed behind, swayed by the promise of all the cucumbers they could eat, but they soon left when the snow started to pile up.

I’d been right here half sat in the water when I met my first one, a young kappa soon grown from his family. I was a child at the time, sitting alone and he swam right up to me as if it were the most natural thing to do, asking if I had a cucumber on me. It was a shock, seeing a being as big as me, with green scaley skin and webbed fingers. What surprised me most was how he could speak through a turtle-like beak in almost perfect Japanese. And it was just my luck that I had brought a little food with me, although not any cucumbers. I’d tempted him with a peach instead, and he devoured it slowly, biting and pecking with his beak.

That summer we became fast friends, Sou swimming around the lake with perfect ability while I clung to the land. I’d never learnt how to swim, too afraid my foot would drag me down into the dark depths of the lake. The other children splashed around carelessly, swimming out into the refreshing water in the heat. Although they never said anything to me directly, I knew they never included me because of my foot. I couldn’t join in the games of running and chasing and would only hold them back.

One day, the children ran around splashing as usual and another kappa appeared. This one was not from the family of Sou, and much older with his green scales so much darker they were almost black. And unlike Sou, who was friendly and kind, this kappa grabbed a young girl and tried to drown her.

Screams and shouts and thrashing flooded the air as water sprayed high, but everybody knows kappa are most adept in their home, the water. Nobody could out-swim them, not even Sou who raced after him and the flailing girl.

When Sou returned, empty-handed, the village was angry. Word spread up and up until it reached the shugo-daimyo who oversaw the area. It was the fifth child to be drowned and eaten and he would not allow another to be killed. From then on everyone spurned kappa who came close. Some were caught in fishing nets, lured in by chunks of cucumber, then slaughtered and thrown back into the lake as a warning to the rest.

Some pleaded to the shugo-daimyo, saying how it was only the rogue kappa causing issues, but he wouldn’t listen. In his eyes every kappa was dangerous and needed to be killed.

I’d cried when Sou told me he was leaving, and begged him to take me with him. But I was just a child, and he was a kappa.

I pulled my leg out of the lake. The pain from my foot had now moved to my heart as I remembered the only real friend I had made. It was years before I started seeing him again, and only in the middle of the lake out of view. In secret he taught me how to make medicine from the lake to treat fevers and how to set broken bones, and I in turn gave him cucumbers to take back home. Sou had worried about my foot and how I was to survive, but with medicine, all I’d need to do was walk from house to house. Only later did I become a doctor, as more and more people asked for my help.

Taking a bandage from a small basket, I started wrapping my foot, which slowly began to come alive. Pain lanced as I covered wounds that never fully healed from where my foot dragged. They’d open up again tomorrow as I checked on today’s patients, but I had this moment at least to forget it all.

I made my way back to the village with the aid of a stick as darkness crept in around me. Lanterns blazed with light as preparations were being made for the next festival. It’d been a bad winter with more snowfall than we’d ever seen, so everyone was excited to dance and be merry in the warming weather. However, I’d find myself isolated from them all. I didn’t need a reminder I couldn’t join in with the dances, ones my heart ached to be able to keep up with. This year, the shugo-daimyo would stay for the festival; he always visited one of the villages surrounding the lake during the spring, under the guise of helping, though it was obvious he was really checking on the kappa. Anyone sympathetic to kappa was taught otherwise.

And yet, I did not listen. I still met Sou in the middle of the lake once or twice a year, and he taught me more about medicine. When questioned, I lied, saying I was out harvesting plants for the various medicines, making sure to grab handfuls of weeds on my way back. No matter what anyone said, I would never give up my friendship with Sou. I’d rather die than be alone in the world.

I returned home and slumped my bag down on the floor with a sigh. It had been a long tiring day and I just wanted to sleep. My futon lay out, dishevelled and unaired; despite my age, I’d not had the luxury of finding a wife to love and take care of my home. I crawled under the blanket and hoped for enough sleep tonight, with the festival looming close and the shugo-daimyo’s arrival, anxiety chewed at my stomach. What if Sou tried to meet with me and was caught? I could imagine him trapped in tough nets, biting his way free, only to be dragged to the surface. He’d be weaker there, not just because of the water, but for the biggest weakness of kappa: their heads. On top the kappa’s head sat a depression of water, and filled gave the kappa vitality and strength, but if he lost the water… I’d seen too many kappa dying, their head-dish empty, scared what the gods would do to us for this. Fear ruled the village, and fear struck each kappa down dead.

As I fell into a fitful sleep, all I could do was wish the gods would change me into a kappa. I would be free to swim in the waters, carefree, and leave the bloodshed behind me.

The shugo-daimyo arrived early. Travel had been swift and favourable for his horses. The village was abuzz with activity and I was cooped up inside dealing with another injury. A neighbour had been hunting a week prior and had been bitten by an unknown animal. Rather than coming to me, he’d washed and bandaged it and carried on with his day. Even as the skin tightened and blazed with heat. he kept up with his daily work, and each day it wept pus and raged under a bandage. I held his hand gingerly, turning it side to side to inspect how far the infection had spread. It wasn’t a particularly deep bite, though I could work out strange marks that didn’t seem like a normal bite at all.

“Where were you when this happened?” I asked him, lightly pressing the skin around the wound. It had spread across the back of his hand, making movement difficult, and the reason he finally came to me.

“On the edge of the village. The light was dim so I couldn’t tell what did it. It was my fault though, I spooked it crashing through trying to find a quick place to take a piss.”

“Then you’re fortunate the bite was on your hand.”

I leant forward for a closer look, scanning down the strange pitted row of strange marks, trying to remember where I’d seen such a thing before. It certainly wasn’t the work of cats or dogs, their teeth punctured much deeper than this. It was too small for a horse bite, his whole hand would be swollen and red. I glanced to Katsuo who was silent. I could feel his nervousness shaking his limbs lightly.

“Kappa.” I said, watching him carefully. “You were bit by a kappa.”

“No, no,” he said, pulling his hand away from me. “I was nowhere near the water. It can’t have been a kappa. Plus, they’re all dead.”

“No they’re not. Or the shugo-daimyo wouldn’t be here.”

We were both silent then, both weighing each other out. I remembered where I’d seen that kind of bite before, as Sou had once bitten me by accident, leaving a distinct lines down my leg. He’d immediately dove into the blue waters and returned with a handful of weeds, and wrapped them around my leg.

“Ryozo, this will cool it down,” he’d said, black eyes full of worry. “Stop any infection.”

I’d found the whole thing fascinating, how weeds could help treat wounds. They weren’t just weeds to kappa, but great tools for medicine. After that, Sou continued teaching me more, happy I was a quick learner. It took me far too long to realise he’d been teaching me so I could find purpose in the village, instead of sitting by the lake, pretending my foot didn’t exist.

A few times I had thought about cutting it off completely as surely a stump would function better than a curled up ball of a foot. My mother forbade it, wailing into my kimono that I shouldn’t do such a thing. So I promised her I wouldn’t, and in return she tried again in adapting sandals to make it easier to move around.

Katsuo still stared at me and I smiled as I realised. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Tell anyone what? It’s just a normal animal bite.”

I nodded. “I can help this infection, and it should start healing pretty quick. With your payment I require a cucumber. I don’t have everything I need to help it right now, but tomorrow I can dress it properly. And then this animal bite will go away.”

“A cucumber? But—”

“I must go back to the source.”

Something shifted in Katsuo’s eyes then, like he finally believed my words. I didn’t take it personally, not with how strict the shugo-daimyo was at enacting his words. It warmed my heart to know it wasn’t just me who looked out for the kappa. It had been risky almost outright saying I was sympathetic to them too, but if someone really came for me I’d… Actually, I didn’t know what I’d do. What man knows what he’ll do when faced with death?

Would it be as freeing as I always imagined?

Katsuo nodded and wandered over to a basket filled with vegetables. “I have one now, picked fresh this morning. You can take it.”

“Good, then I can go out later. I’ll return when the medicine is all prepared.”

I left Katsuo’s home swiftly after that, urging him to bathe his hand in the lake in the meantime. The cold waters had always been good to me, and I had always wondered if the kappa had anything to do with it. What if they spurned us for our treatment of them? Fresh waters turned stagnant and deadly. It was something I should ask Sou, if I had the chance. Our meetings were always hurried to keep him out of sight.

I knew I should wait until the sun lowered in the sky, but the thought of seeing my friend again so soon led me almost straight to the lake. First, I needed tools and supplies. The lake was deep and I was certainly not able to swim down to pick weeds, so I used a long tool made of bamboo. Much like the tools that toiled the soil, this pulled the plants from the sodden ground. While waiting, I’d trim the plant down to just the leaves, and bring them ashore… or that’s what I told everyone. The tool did work, I’d tried it out a few times just to be sure, and I could use it if anyone wanted me to demonstrate, but really, I asked Sou to grab leaves for me. He made sure not to disturb the plants too much so they could regrow easily, and I didn’t damage the lake.

Once I’d gathered what I needed, I hurried towards the lake and in a boat as fast as my clubbed foot would allow. I hadn’t seen Sou in a few weeks and I missed his company. There was still a chance I wouldn’t see him today either, as the cucumber could invite another kappa instead. It’d happened before, and I met a young family trying to find a new home.

The waters were still today, there wasn’t much wind, and even the sun was out to banish the chills of winter. I’d passed many people out working, building a new irrigation system for the growing fields, and children playing at the water’s edge. Each of them paid me no attention as I walked past and now rowed out in my boat towards the centre of the lake. There I would be safest, and only there would Sou surface to speak to me.

Oars sliced through the water propelling me onwards. Here, gliding through the water, was the only place I felt fast and unstoppable and even able to race the winds themselves. No wonder the kappa loved the water so much.

Eventually I found the right spot to stop, the opposite village was just in sight and yet still a blur from this far away. From a small basket I pulled out a knife and the cucumber, slicing it into thumb length chunks and dropping them into the lake. Down and down they’d fall into darker waters, hopefully to be snatched up by a kappa.

I sat back and waited for the familiar tapping noise from the bottom of the boat; the signal Sou gave to make sure it was safe. While I waited, I looked up into the sky. Clouds covered the blue skies, trailing past slowly. If the clouds held onto their rain and passed us by, it’d be a perfect night for the festival to start. The shugo-daimyo would be eager for it to start, he was never a man for patience. I’d seen him a few times, preferring to stay out of his way and slipping into nearby shops. His reputation for strict cruelty was certainly well known, however, and soon everyone else kept out of his path too. There had been whispers that his armour had been made of kappa bones and his sword sheathed in kappa skin.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Sou was here.

Tap. Pause. Tap.

I peered over the side and a pair of black glassy eyes stared back at me under the water. I smiled. Taking the last chunk of cucumber, I slipped it into the water and Sou snapped it up instantly.

He surfaced and blinked away water. “Ryozo. It’s been many days since you last called. I missed you.”

“You too, my friend.”

“More lake weed?”

“I—uh, yes, actually. But you don’t need to go so soon.”

Despite my words, Sou dipped below the surface once again, leaving me all alone. In the meantime, all I could do was lower the bamboo pole, pretending to get the weeds myself.

Tap. Tap.

Sou’s beak pecked against the bamboo, pretending it was another chunk of cucumber. At first I thought he really did get them mixed up, but every time I lowered the pole he did the same, and I realised he was just joking with me. A pang hit me. Even now we had to resort to jokes and playing beneath the water. It made me ache to be in the water with him, away from all the eyes ready to betray me. I knew one day we’d be able to laugh and joke as we had done when I was a child, playing happily in the water. I promised myself every time I saw him.

“Here.” Sou dropped a pile of slimy leaves in the boat and held out his webbed fingers. “More cucumber?”

“I’m sorry, I already gave you the last piece.”

“Hmph.” Sou blew air through the nares on his beak. “Next time I will only bring you two leaves.”

“Only two? That’s cruel.” I laughed. “You know I can’t take too many cucumbers, there will be suspicion.”

Sou crossed his arms in such a human way, I laughed harder. He’d learnt that from me and was determined to use it every time in some way. He hated how other kappa didn’t understand, especially underwater.

“I have something for you,” he said, holding out a brightly coloured snail shell. “This one is not medicine. It’s for good luck.”

“Thank you.” The shell was small, only about the size of the end of my fingers, but shone with bright colours in the light. “I’ll treasure it.”

“I should go. Next time bring more cucumbers.”

“Wait,” I said, reaching into the water and grabbing his arm. He couldn’t leave right now. “Already? You’ve only just surfaced.”

“Yes. Young kappa have been going to the land. We’re not safe.”

I thought back to Katsuo and his kappa bite. If the young ones were testing coming to the surface, it was no wonder he was bitten. Of course, it was all bad timing with the shugo-daimyo arriving now.

“No,” I said sadly. “The shugo-daimyo has arrived already. It was risky coming out here now, but… I’ve been so lonely lately, Sou. I wish it could be how it was before, I wish I could stay with you in the water. I’m tired of this.”

Sou grabbed my hand and gently squeezed. “Ryozo, you are a human. I am a kappa. Only gods can change that.”

“So I should beg the gods again?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The gods can’t be trusted.”

Sou let go of my hand, despite me desperately trying to keep hold of it, and slipped under the water, swimming away from me.

Again I was alone, in my boat.

By the time I’d rowed back to shore and dragged my foot up the soft shoreline back to the village, evening was approaching. Along the main road raced horses, their riders showing off to the village women. One of them was the shugo-daimyo’s son, the younger Hosokawa-san, dressed in fine armour. Up and down he rode, kicking up dust far and wide. The village women were watching him with a mix of fascination and annoyance. I joined them, wondering if I had to wait until they finished their spectacle to go back to my house. It irked me and I just wanted to jump out and spook the horses, sending them running off out of my way.

I almost laughed as another had the same idea as me, running out into the road, a quick blur shuffling in the dirt. The short man was hunched over and… and wasn’t a man at all. It was a young kappa.

I needed to save him.

The horses galloped back down the road again, bursting through the dust cloud. No. I ran as fast as my foot would allow, tripping me; I landed face first in the dirt, only able to watch as the horse careened, trying to avoid the kappa. It was too late.

The horse cried out first, followed by a piercing yell and a deep thud. Hoofbeats continued as the horse raced away, leaving the rider in the dirt. He grunted, winded. Others hurried to his side, checking for injury, as I still lay in the dirt, alone. I sat up and brushed it from my face, watching the new spectacle. It was Hosokawa-san, wailing any time his bloodied leg was moved. A farmer raced off towards the village, no doubt looking for me. I was the one who dealt with most injuries, although the women dealt with childbirth, only needing my help when excessive bleeding occurred.

I climbed to my feet slowly, stopping only to scoop my tools and the drying leaves back into my basket, and started towards Hosokawa-san who was now shouting to those around him. As I approached, I saw blood staining his grey hakama black where his leg lay in an awkward position and his face had paled to snow.

“Kusano-san,” one of the farmers beckoned, “we were just going to find you—”
“—I will have the horse whipped—”

“—Hosokawa-san has fallen from his horse.”

“I did not fall,” he hissed between a grimace. “That stupid horse threw me. It’s untrained—”

“Enough,” I commanded. “If you can complain this loudly, perhaps the injury isn’t as bad as the blood shows.”

Hosokawa-san was quiet then, and I knelt down to inspect the damage. His leg bent and twisted under itself, hidden under the wide material of the hakama. He hadn’t realised it yet, but white bone protruded through a worn section, soaked in blood.

“It’s too dirty here to inspect your leg, my lord, but it’s definitely broken.”

Hosokawa-san huffed and winced. “How dare the horse do this to me.”

I stared at him. I wanted to tell him how it was his own fault, racing the horses on such a thin road, but I was just a villager, and he was the shugo-daimyo’s son.

“We need a cart and some people to lift you, my lord. That’s the only way back from here.”

“Fine. Get on with it.”

It took three men in the end to lift him into the cart, his leg still bleeding. Sou had told me of keeping wounds clean with fresh water, making sure no dirt fell inside, as it helped it heal faster. So when we finally managed to cart Hosokawa-san back to his room, I asked for a bowl of water and fresh bandages. His grey hakama were discarded with difficulty; although the garment was loose around the legs and only tight at the waist, the material had started to stick and it brushed against torn skin. Eventually when I managed to look at the entirety of the damage, I sighed. The bone had splintered into two pieces and pierced right through his skin below the knee. The skin of his lower leg had grown paler and cold, and soon it would start to die. If it hadn’t already.

The shugo-daimyo burst into the room, a tall man with a loud voice wearing the most lavish kimono I’d ever seen. He too wore grey hakama, the plainness at odds with the patterned kimono.
“Father…”

“What is wrong with my son?” he demanded.

“A broken leg, my lord.” I said, bowing my head. “It may need amputating.”

“Amputating? Can it really be that bad?”

I stepped aside to let him see. I’d cleaned the blood away and stemmed it with bandages, but the bone still burst out, covered with more bandages. Hosokawa-san had been given the best medicine to deal with pain, though even that was not enough to take it all away. It had, however, stopped his screaming.

The elder Hosokawa-san took one look and shook his head, no doubt seeing similar wounds before. Horses could be so dangerous when they spooked or bolted. I’d seen a few riders kicked with powerful hooves before, their black bruises spread wide and far. One swelled so big for days, it had to be lanced; that night, I’d witnessed my first death as infection took him.

“Is there nothing else for him?”

“I… I could try pushing the bone back into place, but I don’t know if it will work. I’ve never tried something like that before.”

“I will send for another doctor, then. He is only a few days’ ride away.”

I paled. “My lord, your son doesn’t have that long. We cannot leave the bone out like this. It has to stay inside the body, or he’ll worsen.”

“We’ll wait. Make sure he won’t be in pain.”

The shugo-daimyo gave no room for response and turned to his son, who’d fallen into a fitful sleep. After watching him for a moment longer, he left without a word. How was I supposed to treat him like this? Sou had taught me all about broken bones and how quickly they could weaken a man to death. If only he could be here now, he’d know how to help. I couldn’t even risk going out to the lake and asking him, not when the shugo-daimyo would want me right here with his son. Instead all I could do was try to keep him alive long enough for his father to realise his mistake.

By evening, Hosokawa-san had paled further to a sickening grey. He’d lost a lot of blood which still slowly wept from the bandage and I had to keep switching it for another. I wasn’t sure how much longer he would last like this. Inside, I was angry, so angry, that the shugo-daimyo would let his son slowly die like this. He would soon be past even my help, if he wasn’t already. There was only other one way to save him now, one I knew the shugo-daimyo wouldn’t even entertain.

I’d already sent for him to come and see his son again, hoping to plead for him to change his mind. Instead, he enjoyed the festival, sending word just to keep doing my best. But my best would never be good enough. I’d learnt how to heal in small hidden lessons in the brief moments I could talk to Sou. I’d picked up more by healing wounds of the villagers, but cuts and bruises were nothing like this.

Hosokawa-san stirred. I took the damp cloth from his forehead and rinsed it in the bowl beside his bed before returning it. Fever was setting in and his skin was hot to the touch, sweat soaked his kimono and it clung to his skin. It would be a long night, I was sure.

The shugo-daimyo had been accommodated in one of the bigger houses, the occupants now staying with their neighbour. This room was bigger than most, although it only had one futon. If I was to get any sleep, I’d have to rest on the tatami. Sleep, next to a dying body.

From outside I could hear the drumming of various taiko, followed by other instruments, growing stronger as the festival boomed. I closed my eyes. The gods couldn’t bless me, but perhaps the festival could draw them near and they could bless Hosokawa-san. The beat of the festival travelling to his heart, keeping it going. It wouldn’t take much for them to save him, and I’d heard of them blessing others before. In my mind, I cried out to any who would hear me. I’d been annoyed with Hosokawa-san before, and his racing up the street, but I never wanted him to be injured.

I couldn’t kneel here any longer; my mind was swimming in guilt and pleading for help. I was useless here. It felt like my skin was crawling with restlessness and I needed to just do something other than be here.

If the shugo-daimyo wouldn’t save his son then I would. He’d be angry and I wasn’t sure what he’d do with me after, but I would not sit by watching this man die.

I slipped out of the house without being seen, everyone had flocked to the festival thankfully on the other side of the village. Bright lanterns hung from each house, leading the way towards the lake, and I followed them. My foot ached with a deep stabbing pain and it took all my concentration to ignore it and keep going. The moon was high in the sky tonight, the light would reflect on the water and guide me out into the deep waters. I didn’t have any cucumber to draw Sou, or even any kappa, out to help me, I didn’t know who would even have some. They still weren’t fully in season, only a few had grown enough in the colder weather.

From the village I made my way down to the soft land around the lake. It was always harder to drag my foot down here, the worn sandal digging in deep. The sand was worse, and I sunk deeper and deeper. However, I didn’t go for the sand this time, I walked down the small pier where boats were tied up. Lowering myself into the closest one, I took the oars and started the long journey towards the centre again. I’d splash around if I had to, anything I knew would grab the kappa’s attention… though, I had warned Sou about the shugo-daimyo arriving earlier. What if he had left this part of the lake to travel north already?

I pushed the thought away. I wouldn’t think of it.

My arms burned with exhaustion as I pushed on and on, gliding through the water. The opposite village couldn’t be seen in the darkness, so I had to guess when I was anywhere near the middle. On and on I rowed in the darkness, following the moon for a guide. Any other time, being alone on the lake alone would be peaceful. Any other time I would have been too scared to row out into the nothingness. And yet here I was.

I let go of the oars. I couldn’t row any further. My muscles would barely listen to me begging them to row on and on. Here would have to do. Now I just needed a kappa to find me. I started by sticking my hand into the water and splashing around, hoping to catch any of their attention, and then moved on to splashing with the oar. But nothing.

“Please Sou, I need you.”

I pleaded with the water, but it stared back black and quiet. I knew they were down there, somewhere in the lake, out of my reach. Would I need to climb into the water? I sighed. I couldn’t swim. If I entered the water then I’d need help.

“Ryozo, the water is not for you.”

“Sou?” I turned and Sou stared back at me, face bobbing above the surface. “I need your help. I thought you had already left.”

“And I thought you might need me.”

“Sou…”

“What is the problem?” he asked, eyes scanning me all over, no doubt worried it was me that was injured.

“I am treating a leg wound, the bone came out and I don’t know how to put it back in. He’s feverish and getting worse.”

Sou stared at me for a moment and blinked away the water from his eyes. “And you want to save this one?”

“Yes. I don’t want to watch him slowly die when I could help.”

He nodded. “Good. Ryozo is finally wanting to be a human, not a kappa.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t just teach Ryozo medicine to learn. I wanted you to be happier with others. Where is the person?”

I sighed. “In a house close to the shore, I can’t go as fast as you, but we can keep you out of sight. The festival is still going, we only need to worry if someone comes back to check on him.”

Sou went quiet. I knew it was a big ask of him, that he could be in danger coming out of the water. If the shugo-daimyo or any of his men saw Sou, they’d attack him on sight. The villagers… I wasn’t so sure what they’d do. I would never let any of them hurt Sou, however.

“I will do it for Ryozo,” Sou said eventually, clacking his beak together. “And they will see how good you are.”

“Thank you, dear friend,” I said, bowing to him. “I know I shouldn’t ask this of you.”

Sou slipped under the water, barely disturbing the surface. From behind, the boat started to shift and move, and I realised Sou was leading us ashore. Above me, the stars and the moon watched us as we sped towards the village, my heart pounding in my chest. I both feared for Sou’s safety and yet I couldn’t help but feel excitement. Rarely had I seen Sou use medicine himself. And so by the time we’d made it to the house, keeping Sou in the shadows, my heart raced faster than ever.

Hosokawa-san had deteriorated in the time I’d been gone. His breathing was laboured and his chest struggled to rise.

“He will die without my help,” Sou said, taking one look at him. “This is difficult for me.”

“The shugo-daimyo wouldn’t let me try to heal him, he hasn’t even seen how bad his son is right now. He’s too busy at the festival.”

Together we slowly removed the bloody bandages until Hosokawa-san’s leg was bare once more. A sharp shard of bone poked out from bloodied skin at the shin, and the rest of his leg was deathly cold.

“It’s bad,” Sou said, running his webbed fingers down the leg. “No blood here at the bottom. It’s dying. Bone is in many pieces.”

“Can it be saved?”

“No. It must be removed. What tools do you have?”

I stared at him. I was right, the leg couldn’t be saved. Even if the other doctor was to arrive here in time, he would say the same. The shugo-daimyo was gambling on his son’s life.

Sou watched me patiently. “Tools?”

“Oh, sorry I…” I reached into the bag I shoved in the corner of the room. After we first arrived I’d asked a farmer to run to my house and grab anything that could be useful. Thankfully, he’d chosen well by bringing anything in sight. “I have a knife, bandages, thread for wounds. Will that be enough?”

“Hmm. No saw?”

“No. I’ve never amputated before.”

“Today you will learn.”

First we had to prepare the room, bundling the futon up so Hosokawa-san’s lower leg was lifted. In the meantime, Sou had given him something to chew on when he would inevitably wake up due to the pain. My medicine wasn’t strong enough to make him sleep through it.

Outside, the taiko still drummed away, the rhythm now aiding our movements. One step at a time.

“He will not like what I will do. You must hold him down until I am done.”

I nodded. “I will make sure he doesn’t move and that no-one enters.”

“Good. First I need to take off the leg. After, I will stop the bleeding with thread. Then we seal it with more thread.”

Sou moved quickly into place after that. I took my place beside Hosokawa-san’s chest, ready to hold it down if I had to. I wasn’t sure how Sou managed to take the leg without a saw, but I trusted my friend.

Smack.

The sound was sickening, a wet crunch. Over and over Sou hammered at the bone with his beak, blood spraying into the air. Hosokawa-san woke, groaning against the braided leaves between his teeth.

Peck. Peck. Peck.

Sou did not stop.

My hands pressed firmly to Hosokawa-san’s chest as I kept telling him it’d be over soon.

Peck. Peck. Peck.

Each peck made him shake now, a mix of pain and shock. He screamed, barely muffled. It was the only thing showing he was still alive.

The leg landed with a thump.

Sou’s face was now red, not green, even the last drops of water sitting in the dished depression on his head was filled with blood. He made quick work with the thread, his webbed fingers barely stopping as he sewed. I felt useless kneeling on the tatami, unable to help Hosokawa’s pain, unable to help Sou finish the amputation. It would be over soon, though, I was sure. Even out of the water, Sou could still move fast and strong, fuelled by the water on his head.
It was too empty now though, and I could see my friend’s movements starting to become sluggish. I quickly soaked a clean bandage in the bowl of water and reached towards Sou.

“One moment, my friend.”

Sou paused and I filled the dish-depression enough for him to continue. It wasn’t the freshest of water now and I worried it would make him ill. He nodded to me in thanks before continuing.
The moon had moved further across the sky by the time Sou was done. All sounds of taiko were now silent, the festival finally finished.

“I’m done,” Sou said, starting to sound weary. “Ryozo, bandage what is left.”

I switched places with Sou, bringing over a pile of white bandages. The remaining stump was pink and puckered as the skin knit tight together. On the floor lay the remains of his lower leg, cold and dead.

“I need to return to the lake. He needs a medicine only made from lake plants.”

“Be safe, Sou—”

“Kappa,” a voice hissed. “Get away from my son.”

The shugo-daimyo stumbled forwards, the smell of sake strong on his breath. He drew his wakizashi and pointed it to Sou; the short blade rested firm in his hands, ready to strike.

“Stop! Please. My lord.” I pushed Sou behind me and bowed to the elder Hosokawa-san. “I invited the kappa here. He was the only way to save your son.”

The shugo-daimyo’s eyes turned to his son, widening as he noticed the fresh stump resting on the futon.

“I told you to wait for the doctor.”

“He would have died, we saved his life.”

“Kappa don’t save lives. Move aside.”

I lifted myself from the bow and looked him in the eyes. “No. I won’t let you hurt him. Sou has never—”

The tip of the wakizashi pressed to my chest. But I would not move.

“Then you can die as well.”

“Ryozo—”

The shugo-daimyo pulled back his arm to strike as I held my ground… however missed his strike as drunkenness sent the blade to the left, stabbing the air.

“Fa...ther…?”

His attention went back to his son who flitted in and out of consciousness.

“My son. I will kill these who would harm you. If it weren’t for them you would be able to ride again.”

Screams. Outside came voices calling for help, calling out a word I dreaded to hear. Kappa.

The shugo-daimyo stopped and listened. “More? Time for my blade to be bathed in blood once again. Both of you get outside.”

He stepped aside to let us pass, but still kept his blade at the ready. I glanced back at Sou. His black eyes were unreadable, though that was also normal for him. Outside I had more of a chance of survival, so I took it. I slowly dragged my foot giving Sou more time to recover and escape back to the water. Together we all made it outside where the screams continued. Stopping in the doorway, I gasped as the streets were filled with kappa of all ages. Elder kappa hissed at any humans wielding blades while the younger ones ran around causing chaos. Horses were untied and ran around in a panic, a house burned brightly with fire, and more kappa were emerging from the lake.

“Kill them all,” the shugo-daimyo roared as he saw the scene. “Don’t stop until every last kappa is dead.”

“No,” I yelled. “They are—”

“You,” he continued, bringing his blade back to me. “You will die now. I command it. Get on your knees.”

I knelt. I would die for the kappa if it truly came to it. I believed that much in their innocence. Sou had taught me as such, one lesson at a time. I would not abandon my friend, or any of them.

“Ryozo.”

He called to me, unsure if he should be helping me or his kin. He should help them, not me. I was ready to die. To be truthful, I had for a long time now.

I calmed my breathing, the cool blade now resting at my nape.

And then came a sound. Piercing. I cupped my hands over my ears trying to block it out. I glanced around. The kappa had stopped and all screeched high into the air, their beaks all wide open. The sound brought everyone to their knees, all at their mercy.

Sou stopped his screech and picked up the wakizashi the shugo-daimyo had dropped. It sat awkwardly in his hand as he held the handle, his webbed fingers shorter than those of a human.

“No—”

The blade landed its mark and the shugo-daimyo’s neck burst open, blood spurting high. Again he struck until his head dropped with a dull thump, removed from his neck. Immediately the screeching stopped, and then they descended. Kappa rushed to the body, pecking and biting and ripping it into nothing. As if he never existed.

And then, they left. Each kappa heading back to their beloved lake.

Around me, other villagers climbed back to their feet, hands still protecting their ears. Everyone too shocked to say a word.

“He is dead. He will kill us no more.” Sou took one look at me before heading back towards the lake.

I lay not knowing what to do, whether to chase after Sou or succumb to the exhaustion pulling at every muscle.

Deep down, I knew letting him go was the best thing. Kappa weren’t as strong out of the water and their skin dried too easily.

I also knew that Sou would be back, because he was my friend, the only one I had.

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Delicious warmth flooded my body as I knocked back another cup of sake. It rested on my fingers, the cool ceramic at odds with the heat the sake brought. My server was a young man with a face as flushed as my own. I’d poured for him only twice, but I always served the strongest sake here, even the smallest cup could drown humans into a deep drunkenness. He’d done well keeping my own cup topped up each time I emptied it. Usually by now I’d have to do it myself.

“Would you like me t’pour for you ’gain?” he slurred, body swaying.

“Please,” I said bowing my head slightly. “Although I feel you have finally reached your limit now, my friend.”

“No, no, ’f course not.”

I laughed. I could tell he was trying to keep up with me, but his drinking would never best mine. I was, after all, the goddess of sake. The most I ever found myself was flushed and tipsy. Sometimes I envied that humans managed to be so merry with alcohol they just passed out there and then.

“Sato-san, if you don’t stop now I fear you’ll pass out here on the tatami before you return to your room.”

He leant in closer, “ahh, but that means I’d sleep in your company ’til you leave a poor man such as m’self on his own.”

Sato-san’s breath smelt strong of the sake we’d been drinking all evening, and yet... something more. Something rotten. I smiled and glanced away. Sato-san’s life was in the balance, but he didn’t know it. Blind to the growing rottenness inside his chest, a blackness that would take each breath away until he gasped for life. I’d seen it before. This is why Sato-san had come to me, without realising it. His devotion had lead him to this very room, where I had a choice. And I certainly couldn’t help every person; I wasn’t even supposed to interfere this much. Humans had to learn to cure illnesses by themselves.

I took Sato-san’s warm hands in mine and held them tight. “I won’t leave you alone.”

He stared into my eyes and nodded. I would save this one. I shouldn’t but…

The tiniest mote of energy passed between our hands, heading for his chest. He would still suffer the illness somewhat, but he’d survive. And in the meantime he could stay here where it was safe and warm. I wasn’t about to save his life for him to wander out in the snow and lose it so soon.

I could hear Ukemochi’s voice in my mind, berating me once they found out what I had done again. It wasn’t our place to interfere so much, we weren’t supposed to and yet… how could I not? All these lives like bright stars, creating a life, gone in a blink. Their fourty-fifty-rarely-sixty years just a grain of rice next to the everlasting length of a god. So what I gave him another ten years to live? Those could be his happiest years.

He wouldn’t know it was me, I never gave myself away. I was careful enough. He would only know my comfort and safety. Only the best for my devoted.

Sato-san smiled. “One last drink, in the company of the most beautiful woman.”

I laughed again. “Alright, you flirt, one last cup.”

My fingers wrapped around the ceramic tokkuri and I lifted it to pour sake into his last cup. Clear sake rose to the rim and Sato-san brought it to his lips.

“Kampai. Blessed is Inari who made us such a wooonderful drink.”

“Kampai, Sato-san,” I said quickly lifting my empty cup.

He drained the sake instantly, with a bright smile across his face as he savoured the taste. I was glad to see him so happy.

Behind us, the shoji door slid open. “I’m sorry for the intrusion,” a light voice called. “There is a new man in the entrance.”

“Oh?” I placed my cup back down on the low wooden table before patting Sato-san’s arm. “I’ll be back to keep you company soon. Why don’t you sleep for now?”

He almost complained, until he glanced down at the tatami and gave in. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Standing, I straightened out my kimono and turned to the door. A short lady stood there, waiting for me. Ayaki. Her black hair reached her shoulders, covering a red puckered scar across her neck. She’d fallen from a tree as a child, catching sharp branches as she fell. Her mother had prayed all day and night for her to live and I’d shown pity. Now all grown up, I assured her work and a room all to herself, for a small price.

I saved that one too. Ukemochi had poisoned my food in return, angry at me. However, my stomach was used to the poisons now, and I’d only felt bloated the next day. They vowed to stab me next time instead. Such a wonderful wife I had.

“Please lead the way,” I said to Ayaki.

She turned, black fox tail bobbing against her light blue kimono. Just like every other person working here in my sanctuary, she was a kitsune. I didn’t think it was much to ask for, I saved their life after all.

Despite the neverending amount of sake I’d consumed, my legs walked down the plain hallway with perfect steadiness. Out here was cooler than the stifling room with Sato-san. Cold air filtered through from the main shoji door which sat wide open, sharing a view of snow. Winter was always difficult for many people, and this time of year I found more and more people wandering in for help. I’d lost count of how many had, bowing their heads low. Most I let stay for a drink and some warmth before sending them away. A respite wasn’t against any rules, even if Ukemochi rolled their eyes at my antics.

Each of them had prayed to me for help, and I would offer it in some way. This place was sacred, nobody set foot here without prayer. I made sure of that a long time ago, after the homeless started to fill every room.

Ayaki stopped at the main entrance and bowed to the newcomer. A short man, still quite young; he faintly smelt of smoke and had a haunted look to his eyes.

“Irasshaimase,” I greeted. I may be a goddess, but I’d still use human customs to welcome customers. “It’s a cold evening, please come in.”

He bowed but stayed quiet. Torn on whether he should be here, perhaps? Never mind, sake always got it out of them.

So what do you want me to answer, my friend?

*

The evening had been the coldest yet. Snow fell heavily now and big flakes stuck to my grey kimono. I’d slipped inside the building as quick as I could, thankful for even the tiniest bit of warmth. It had been surprising finding the entrance, as I’d never seen it before. A grand entrance sat between a row of wooden machiya. The townhouses had withstood all manners of weather and even an earthquake without issue. It was if the gods had built them.

“Irasshaimase,” came the warm voice of the owner. She stood bathed in the glow of lamplight and I lost my voice. “It’s a cold evening, please come in.”

“Yes,” chuckled the woman next to her. “Don’t stand here in the entrance.”

The second woman wore a blue that brought more warmth, not cold, and her kimono pattern betrayed her wealth. Both of them wore the most complicated patterns, beautiful and breathtaking.

Where am I? I don’t have the money for… this.

“Would you like to join me for a cup of sake?”

I averted my eyes. I shouldn’t be here. “I… I h-have the wrong…”

“Certainly not,” she continued, voice pulling me closer. “Nobody comes here by mistake. Please join me for some sake, and we’ll find out why you are here.”

The second woman nodded. “Go with Ina-san,” she encouraged. “Don’t worry about anything.”

I let out a soft sigh. Maybe there was no harm in going with her. I was curious about this place at the very least.

Slipping off my shoes, I stepped up onto the hallway and the owner slid her arm under mine and held it.

“Follow me, I have many guest rooms here. You can pick whichever one you like.”

Together we stepped down the hall, stopping at each doorway. Ina-san showed me wide rooms filled with merry people, and other women in blue kimono. In one, a man slept on the floor, happily snoring away. Eventually we came to an empty room.

“Let’s try this one,” she said, gesturing inside. “It’s one of my favourites.”

As I stepped in the scent of pine trees hit me, and a wave of emotion hit me. It reminded me of home, wandering the forest, being alone and surrounded by many trees. The city could never offer me that.

Ina-san plucked a cushion from beside the wall and offered it to me. “Zabuton?”

“No, thank you.” I still wasn’t used to the finer things, and didn’t know the etiquette of sitting on them. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself now.

Taking one for herself, Ina-san placed it down next to the low table and knelt on it sideways, expertly avoiding messing her kimono and keeping the silk perfect. I lowered myself to the soft tatami opposite her, glancing around the room and admiring the obvious wealth Ina-san had. A painted screen sat in the corner glittering gold and red.

“So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

How was I to answer that? I wasn’t even sure what led me here in the first place. All I was doing was praying to Inari for some guidance, some help to deal with all the things. I needed strength to keep going, to find someone else to mentor me. I exhaled deeply. How was this woman supposed to help me? I didn’t want money alone, nor did I want someone to just give me money. The best things in life were those you worked for.

But I also needed to answer her, and the longer I stayed quiet, the worse a guest I came across. I wasn’t ignoring her.

“Truthfully, I am not quite sure why I am here.” I started, hoping it was an answer enough. “Just that I felt… called here. That sounds strange I know but…”

“If you felt this, then you are definitely in the right place.” Ina-san smiled and I felt some of my anxieties wash away. “Why don’t you start by telling me your name and all about yourself.”

My name? I hadn’t even told her that? My behaviour was awful. I was being an awful guest.

“Sumimasen, sumimasen,” I apologised while bowing my head. “I should have introduced myself already. Please forgive me.”

Ina-san chuckled and I wanted to die inside.

I kept my head low. “My name is Hirotoshi Aoi. I am a blacksmith here in the city. I’ve lived here for about a year now, and my hometown is a village deep in the forest. I came here first with my father. H-He left. It was too much for him… without my mother. So I’ve been working the forge with my master. But he, he, um.” I took a deep breath. “There was an accident. He didn’t make it.”

The memory came back to me now, the feel of heat licking my bare skin. Clang, clang, clang. Metal being struck over and over as our hammers fell. Thump, thump, thump. The ground being struck over and over as bricks fell. He had said it was safe, that the earthquake hadn’t damaged the forge…

I scrunched my eyes up. I didn’t want to cry again.

Ina-san’s fingers caressed the side of my face and she lifted my chin to face her. My cheeks flushed at such an intimate touch.

“You’ve been through a lot, Aoi-san.” Her dark eyes stared deep into mine, full of kindness. “You’ve seen a lot of death of those close to you.”

My heart lurched as her guess hit true. I was alone here now. Drowning in a city full of people knowing what to do. It was easier in the village, and I missed it so much. But there wasn’t enough money to be made. The village had only gotten smaller as I grew older.

“But you’ve always been strong. I sensed that from you a long time ago.”

I paused. What did she mean?

“I want you to stay here, Aoi-san, in safety and warmth. Here you can grieve your master without fear of needing money until you are ready again.”

“It’s my father who needs it.”

“Then we shall help him too.”

I stared at her. Who was she that she could offer so much?

Ina-san laughed. “You don’t remember me, do you? I suppose you’ve never seen me like this so it makes sense.” She reached up to my face again and cupped my cheek. “Which shrine did you pray at?”

My face flushed deeper and I stared at the table. I’d never been touched like this before. “I-Inari’s. I have my own shrine in my room. I always pray to Inari.”

“And who do you think I am?”

My eyes returned to hers and I found myself back as a child, running through the forest soaked through, feet bleeding, followed by a raijuu. Later I’d fought two, wet hand gripping my new blade tightly, screaming for them to leave me alone…

“You impressed me, back then, standing against two raijuu and the god Raijin himself. He wasn’t amused after that, and struck the land harder with bright bolts. He always throws tantrums like that when he doesn’t get his way.”

You…

She couldn’t be.

The blood drained from my face.

“I saw something special in you, the child of misfortune who begged me to save him. You didn’t need my help after all.”

“I… Inari?”

The woman before me nodded, and leant closer. “But don’t tell anyone. Few know the truth, and I just go by Ina instead.”

All I could do was stare. How could this be Inari? And I was just sat here with her, as if she was any other woman.

“You look like you could do with some sake,” she said, plucking a pair of cups from her wide kimono sleeve. “I serve only the finest here.”

I barely noticed as she placed them down and poured from a tokkuri brought out from who-knows-where. My eyes stayed firmly on her, still trying to process that she was Inari. The goddess I had spent my whole life praying to, the goddess I had begged to save my mother, the goddess I held closest to my heart.

She brought the ceramic cup to her lips as she sipped at the sake, watching me with obvious amusement.

“Aren’t you going to drink?”

“Inari-sama, I…”

“Lost your voice?” She poured herself another cup and drank it. “I normally can’t stop you talking to me. Or would it help if I switched to a more familiar form? A certain samurai that saved you.”

“B-Betsugi-sama? But that means—”

“Yes, I was there, under the tree as Akitsura Betsugi for a short while. He’s renamed himself Dousetsu Tachibana now, in fact. Certainly making a name for himself on my actions. It was me who killed the raijuu, not him. Nevertheless, I came to protect you, little samurai. The only way I knew how.”

Tears came to my eyes and I buried my face in my hands to hide them. How did I not know all this time?

“How come you never said anything? If only I had known I would have treated you better,” I said, my voice coming out quieter and more choked than I wanted. I wasn’t going to cry in front of Inari.

“Exactly, little samurai,” she soothed and placed a warm hand on my arm. “You would have never learnt how to stand up on your own and become a warrior. But you did. I saw into your heart and you just needed a little guidance. And now look at you. Everything I hoped you’d become.”

I pulled away. “What do you mean by that? I’m alone, far from home, and barely have coins to survive.”

“And yet you have a kind heart, and a strength well beyond your years. And now I call upon your help.” Inari reached for my hand, and squeezed it tight. “You’ll help me, won’t you? Or has the world stolen that young boy that relied on my help?”

I closed my eyes. I wanted to help her, I really did, but I couldn’t leave my father. I was all he had left now, and I would make sure he would live in comfort for his last years

“I can’t,” I said, heart lurching. “At least, not right now. My father needs me, I can’t leave him.”

Inari’s voice was controlled and quiet. “You would pick your father over a goddess?”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation, heart hammering in my chest. I loved Inari-sama with all that I was, but my first duty was to my father.

“You aren’t like the others, Hirotoshi-kun. Few would make such a decision, especially to my face.”

Inari reached into her sleeves again. Would she bring out a blade to take my life for defying her? I couldn’t imagine anyone doing as I had and not being punished for it.

She held out her hand towards me, unfurling her long fingers and revealing a handful of gold coins.

“Would this be enough?”

I counted them. “There’s enough here to pay for three lifetimes, let alone the remainder of one.”

“Then your father can live like a daimyo in his last days, while I make use of his only son.”

I looked between the coins and Inari. My father could have anything with these coins… everything except me?

“No.”

“No?”

“What is money without love? My father would be richer than he could ever dream of, and he’d be alone. I am his only family.”

Inari’s eyes darkened. “You’d refuse a god twice?”

I could feel my hands trembling, my heart hammering in the forge of my chest. “Yes.”

A silence descended over the room, only broken by the laughter of the room beside us. I wondered if Inari stayed quiet to give me chance to change my mind, but I would not.

“Then you should go to him.”

I nearly spluttered the words which hung to my lips. “What? But what of—”

“If he is more important than even myself, you should be with him, not sat here in my sanctuary. I will have use for you later.”

My heart still thumped over and over, fear flooding my veins. It felt like one wrong move could be the end for me. I’d done as no other had and lived… so far. I should take the mercy that she showed now and get far away.

“Very well,” I said, standing on shaking legs. Fear so strong even my muscles betrayed me. “I’ll return home.”

“You’ll come back though?” Inari said, fingertips tracing the edge of the sake cup. “when your loyalty is only to me.”

I nodded. I would repay her for all the help she’d given me, and even this chance.

“Then you’ll need to find a way back here to this sanctuary. Prayer won’t be enough for a second visit.” Inari stood silently, kimono still perfect. “Follow me.”

I was tentative, but guilt still filled my belly. Down the hallway I followed, deeper into a maze of rooms. We passed open doors and golden rooms until Inari stopped at a door barely visible. Sliding it open, she gestured inside.

Rows of masks lay inside, filling a wall with their blank expressions. I stepped inside and looked at them all, eyes jumping from one to the next. Every mask carved in the shape of a fox, painted white, outlined in red.

“What are they?” I asked, spotting one unlike the rest. A wicked smile pulled the lips upwards.

“Those who wear one of these masks will be able to see the true nature of this place, and find the entrance. Pick one, whichever one you are drawn towards and take it.”

Sightless eyes stared back at me as I wandered up and down, looking at each mask. They were almost all the same and it made no difference to me, although Inari’s wording made me pause. Would one of these be better than the rest? How would I know which one I was drawn towards?

I stopped at a mask as plain as the rest. This one had a crack running along the side, recent damage, it seemed, as paint had chipped off the wood. Why hadn’t it been fixed? I lifted it from the wall—

A face appeared in the gap. “Good choice.”

“Ah!” I stumbled back. The mask dropped to the tatami.

“No need to break it further,” the voice continued. The figure stepped out from the display, chuckling to herself.

“Ayaki-kun always likes to play tricks,” Inari said, laughing alongside her.

Ayaki stopped to pluck it from the floor. In her small hands, she turned it, checking for damage before stepping closer. “Here, let me.”

I glanced to Inari who nodded, and reluctantly let Ayaki slip the mask over my face. Once in place, she tied the blood red strings behind my head. The mask smelt old, wood so aged it had almost lost it’s scent, and yet the faintest of something reached my nose. I spent so long in the forge now that all I was used to smelling was the burning of coals and wood, and I’d even started to forget the wonderful scents of the forest. I missed it sometimes, the feel of the sun reaching me through the leaves swaying in the soft wind.

Beside me now stood Inari, watching me with sharp eyes. I could see her through the small slits in the mask, her red kimono fitting tight, sleeves dropping down low. Ayaki smiled.

“It suits you,” she said, standing back and admiring the mask.

“You picked well,” Inari said. “Now go if you mean to.”

I nodded. I had to leave now before I started doubting myself. Somehow I’d made it this far without being punished, and I wasn’t about to refuse Inari a third time. Back out into the hallway, I hurried towards the exit, eyes to the floor. The timber beneath my feet was deep brown and tough, there was much extravagance here when you looked closer. I hadn’t noticed at first, too wary of this place.

It didn’t take me long to slip on my shoes and head back into the icy snow, stopping only to bow deeply to Inari-sama and Ayaki. The mask still sat on my face, a perfect fit against my skin. I almost wanted to remove it to see if Inari’s house disappeared. Right now it still stood out in the row of machiya, beckoning for me to return. Perhaps one day I’d own one of the houses beside her. Start my own family. Surely living beside a god would be the luckiest place in the city.

The street was quiet tonight, most people had retreated to their homes, tucked up warm. My own was far from here, and half the size of any of these expensive houses. The few men who wandered the streets have me a cautionary glance before averting their eyes. I’d never been given such looks before; It had to be because of the mask. I wondered when I could take it off as I didn’t want everyone avoiding me. I was still me.

It wasn’t that unusual to see such fox masks during a festival, and it hadn’t been too long since the last one. Winter had struck hard and fast, winds blew away the last of summer, and along with it, the last of the festivals. They’d start up again in the spring after the snow had melted enough, and the trees began to burst into life again.

From Inari’s street I turned down another, this one semi flooded with melted snow. I knew this one all too well, as many blacksmiths worked in this area. This was where the best crafts came from, the truest honed swords. My master had walked me down this very street, showing me what I could do some day. He didn’t want me hammering tools and nails as I had done in the village, he wanted to train me in the beauty of hammering life into a blade, one that’d take many lives if made well. I hated the idea of making something that would kill, but I knew it was also for protection. It was exactly why I had one myself. The blade hammered from the wicked claw of a raijuu.

I’d shown my master one day, keeping it hidden until the last moment. A light had filled his eyes, intense and wild.

“The gods bless you, Aoi-kun. They have plans for you.”

He was right. I wasn’t even sure now if I wanted him to be right. At the time I did, clutching onto the fond memories of besting a raijuu. And now I knew the full truth. I owed my life to Inari. Without her, I would have died as a child running away from the raijuu.

It hurt my heart now to walk past each forge, hearing the bright clanging of metal and cracking of burning wood in my mind. It should have been me and my master working all day long, sweat rolling, even in this weather.

“Konbanwa, Aoi-san,” a voice called.

I looked around and spotted a miko standing by the red torii gate of the nearby shrine, Mitsumi; the shrine maiden had spoken to me many times about Inari. As patron to blacksmiths, many of them prayed to her for good luck. Seeing it always warmed my heart, and now the bright red torii gate broke the muted colours around it.

Today Mitsumi wore something different, a red kimono the same shade as the torii gate and her short black hair adorned with delicate flowers.

“Konbanwa,” I replied, heading over to her. “You’re out la—”

I froze.

There on Mitsumi’s head, between carefully crafted sakura ornaments, sat a pair of ears. Fox ears.

And how did she know it was me? I was wearing the mask…

Mitsumi smiled. “I always knew one day you’d find your way to Inari.”

“You… You’re a…”

She spun around, long white fox tail bushy against her red kimono.

“But, how?” I blurted out. I knew it was rude to ask, far too rude for just a blacksmith, but the words fell out.

“There are many things that human eyes can’t see,” another voice added with a chuckle. “Just like me.”

As if from nowhere, a new figure emerged. A pure white fox, standing on it’s hindlegs up tall. Behind it lay three bushy white tails.

“Konbanwa, I am Rei.”

My fingers reached up to the strings behind my head and I pulled them loose, dropping the mask from my face. Was it the mask that was letting me see this? I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

As it fell away, the ears and tails and full white fox on it’s hindlegs... still showed.

“I don’t think he knows,” Mitsumi said to the fox, and they both erupted into laughter.

“Don’t know what?” I looked between them.

“No, I don’t think he does!” The fox crowed. “He’s so confused.”

“Tell me, please,” I begged. “What is so funny?”

“Check yourself,” Mitsumi said, finally.

“What?” I growled and glanced downwards. I wore a dark grey kimono and a light grey obi that had been white once, but charcoal had darkened it. There was nothing amiss, even as I turned to check my back... except—

A tail.

I stared at it, the black tail laying flat against my kimono. “What? Why do I have a tail? It wasn’t there before!”

“Why do you think you can see our true forms?” Rei said. “You’re like us.”

They laughed again. “What did you think the mask was for? Most kitsune start this way.”

“Just not like me,” Rei said. “Kiko are a little different.”

“That’s right,” a lofty voice said from behind me. “I pick my messenger kitsune carefully.” Inari wandered past me, long hair brushing my arm. “I see you have met my newest kitsune. This is Hirotoshi, I expect great things of him.”

Me, a kitsune? It couldn’t be true, surely.

But there was a tail. I was scared to reach up to my head and check for ears too.

“I thought you would have at least told him,” Mitsumi said to Inari. “Poor thing looks so lost.”

“Am I truly a kitsune?” I panicked. “I don’t want to be one. Change me back!”

Inari stepped closer to me and took hold of my hands. “You came to me, and I blessed you. I’ve even allowed you to go to your father first. This is the highest favour I have, and I know you will do well with it.” Inari stared deep into my eyes, hers dark and commanding. “Hirotoshi, with your pure heart you could even rise further and become one of my tenko. Only few make it that far. You can have powers of your own, powers to help anyone you want.”

My heart crumpled. Inari stood there offering the highest blessing anyone could hope for or want. And I was here, denying it. I just wanted to take care of my father.

“I won’t change you back,” she said finally. “You are mine now.”

Inari brought out a small bag from her kimono and pressed it in my hand.

“You should be a dutiful son and give these to your father. You forgot them before. I could almost take that as a refusal for my help.”

Inari released my hands for a moment, before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into an embrace. Such warmth radiated from her, as if I had been pulled into an onsen. Falling deeper and deeper into the magic and whims of a god. I could feel the fight draining from me, being replaced with a calmness I’d never felt before. What was she doing? I wanted to escape… but she was so warm… so warm. I could feel myself drifting away, hearing the laughter of the kitsune fading away.

A sparrow called. Singing to the wind. I opened my eyes and saw it flying above, dancing in the eddies of air.

Where was I?

I glanced around. My breath caught when I spotted the trees towering around me, standing tall and firm. I wasn’t in the city now, I knew those trees. I’d climbed one of them a few times, hiding away for some peace, watching the village work between the swaying leaves. Of course I was back here. Inari had somehow sent me. Another whim of the gods.

I’d left the village behind without hesitation before, tired of being reminded of my mother at every turn, however in the city all I’d wanted was to be here, in the forest. Back where my mother left her imprint on the world.

Standing, I brushed down my kimono. Loose grass stuck to the fabric, wet with morning dew. The mask had vanished, and I almost thought I’d dreamt the day before… but in my hands sat the bag of coins I’d never earnt. What would my father say? Would he believe that Inari had turned me into a kitsune? I didn’t even truly believe it. It all felt like a trick, a jibe, anything to be laughed at.

What did I really expect from foxes, however. I’d learnt a long time ago it wasn’t that simple. And who would be more deceptive than the goddess of foxes herself.

With a sigh, I set off towards my fathers house, a deep guilt pitting in my stomach. The coins Inari had given me would bring him happiness at least. It would be good to see his face light up knowing there was nothing to worry about now. I smiled. That would be worth all this.

As I hurried through the village, tail bouncing behind me, I let go of the worries chewing inside me.

And I wondered if I ever had a choice to begin with.

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

The dried ink cascaded down the page with perfectly formed characters, each building together to make yet another haiku. Beneath the sheet lay another and another, stacked up high until it almost toppled. But, before me, sat on the table clean and inkless, was a plain sheet. It had been there for days now. I’d walked away from it a few times, returning again and again, wordless. I sighed. Hitomi, our neighbour, had been looking forward to reading more today whilst her youngest son slept, and I had promised her sweet poetry.

I left the paper behind and opened the shoji screen doors, letting cool air bluster inwards. Perhaps, like the house, I needed fresh air and maybe even a new topic to write about. It was the second month of the year and the last remnants of the winter air still clung on, though soon enough sakura would bloom and I could sit beneath the trees for inspiration. In all my years I’d always found inspiration from the trees and the flowers, how they moved in the wind, petals dancing to a silent tune before falling to the earth. And yet now no words came to me.

In the next room, the tea kettle steamed, and wandered over, knelt, and prepared myself a cup of green tea. Today the kettle felt heavier than normal, and I tried to ignore it. It was just my mind being restless.

The tea sometimes helped with getting ideas, if I was lucky; at the very least it warmed my insides. After taking a sip I took the cup with me outside to the wooden porch, sitting down on the edge, dangling my legs down. I glanced out across at similar houses; we were lucky to afford such a thing here in the city, and I always appreciated it. In the summer I’d sit right here on the porch in the dying light while Masuta lay his weary head on my lap, smelling of charcoal and sweat. All day he spent in the forge, striking metal over and over until it was perfect. I’d gone with him, one time, watching my husband inspect the metal as it slowly formed a new blade. Paper in hand, I’d watched as sparks flew as the hammer struck; the explosive light had inspired my best haiku, although the edges of the paper had burnt a little. Masuta had been amused, though suggested I left the paper and ink at home next time.

That day he’d been forging something for me, a strong blade of a naginata. He spent far too long hammering it into something beautiful, “only the best for his wife,” he’d told me. The blade curved wide at the end, just like a chrysanthemum petal in full bloom. Yet unlike the soft beauty of the flower, this petal would slice flesh and kill. Masuta had crafted the shaft for the blade himself, measuring everything carefully so the tip of the blade sat a hand’s breadth above my head. The most beautiful gift, perfect for protecting our home, and our children… if we had had them. We’d been married for over ten years now, and no children had been birthed alive. The few times I’d managed to become pregnant had left us with tiny, misshapen babies, and one bigger who never drew breath.

For a long time I cried to the gods about my bad luck, begging for just one breathing child. However, it was futile.

Masuta had buried the babies under the kitchen alongside a flower charm I’d bought for our first child. I knew we’d stay childless now. It hurt too much to even think about going through this again. Instead, I’d watched our neighbour Hitomi raise her four sons. I helped out too, when they were very young, but deep inside sat an anger. Why couldn’t I have a son too? Or a daughter who I could wrap in soft kimono? I’d taken my anger to paper, often discarding the half-formed haiku once I’d calmed down. Many couples didn’t have children, for various reasons, and I was just one of them. There was nothing wrong with that…

I found my hand resting on my empty belly.

It had been a long time since I’d written haiku about children.

Sometimes I wish that

we had children to love and

then I would be happy

I snorted. How had that come so easily? I’d made many just like it, however. And Hitomi wouldn’t want to listen to me yet again. I’d cried to her too many times. Sometimes I’d even fallen asleep on her floor, eyes sore and red from all the tears, and her infant sons curled up beside me, dreaming wondrous things.

I sipped at my tea, the hot liquid rolling down my throat almost too much to bear, but I needed the distraction. No matter how many times I tried to take my mind away, how many times I delved deep into something new… I could never work past it. Every time I had a lesson in aikinojutsu, I’d imagined throwing my feelings around, or blocking them from entering my mind again. My teacher had been impressed with my progress, though I hadn’t spoken of what I really viewed instead of pretend attackers trying to infiltrate my home.

Masuta had suggested the martial arts teacher for me, hoping it would give me something else to do than ruminate on our childless life. Now I could protect our home with my hands and with a naginata. Although, so far, nobody had tried.

“Ohayo, Rika.”

Snapping from my reverie, I spotted Hitomi wandering over towards our house, holding the hand of her son Shinji.

“Ohayo,” I replied. “It’s still morning? It feels like late afternoon.”

Hitomi laughed. “You’ve been stuck in your thoughts again, haven’t you? Are you having trouble with your haiku? It’s been a while.”

“Yes,” I admitted and placed my empty tea cup beside me. “But I am sure it’ll be fine. You’ll have more poetry to read soon enough.”

“Good. I enjoy reading every one of them. If you need some inspiration though, Shinji just came back from his first samurai lesson. Soon he’ll spend all day learning and before we know it he’ll be grown up and wielding your husband’s swords.”

“It’ll be a while yet,” I said, chuckling. “He’s still only three years old. He’s more likely to slice his fingers off with a blade than wield them at this age.”

“One day I want to fight with your naginata Rika,” Shinji chimed in.

“Oh? You’ll need to grow really tall for that first.”

“Yes, I’m going to be very tall.”

I smiled. Shinji was Hitomi’s third child, and all were on the path of becoming a samurai. Masuta had already promised each child their own sword by his own hand.

“Yes, you will be, if you follow your father,” Hitomi said, shaking her head. “Why don’t you come over to my house Rika? We can chat and get some ideas for your next haiku.

I smiled again, this time forced and hollow. I couldn’t spend time around her children, not right now.

“That would be lovely. I would like to try writing a haiku about Shinji first, perhaps I can write one all about all his future accolades.”

“Oh? Did we give you an idea already? Well then, we’ll leave you to it. Come and see us later instead. I’m sure Shinji would love to hear all about the swords Masuta has been creating again.”

“He tells me he has a great commission coming soon, I’ll let him tell you both all about it.”

Hitomi nodded, and I could tell her smile was as forced as my own. “Until later then.”

I waited until both walked over to their house and slipped through the shoji door, out of sight before releasing a sigh. I loved Hitomi and her family, she was a dear friend to me, however my heart ached too much today. Instead I’d stay here inside, alone with my thoughts. The haiku returned to me and I found myself heading towards the paper. The blank piece still sat patiently, ready for ink.

Alright, I will do it.

Sitting at the low table, I grabbed my ink stone and a half used ink stick. A few drops of water into the ink stone and I pressed the ink stick down, rotating it around and around, watching as the ink came to life. Once the water was saturated in the black ink, I dipped the brush in and put it to the paper.

Breaking heart, cold and…

By the time Masuta returned home, I had written four more haiku, all about our non-existent children.

“Tadaima, Rika,” he said entering through the shoji door.

“Okaeri,” I greeted, and placed my brush down.

“Oh, you’ve been writing more haiku?” Masuta walked in and embraced me in a tight hug. “I knew your inspiration would hit again. Didn’t I tell you. What was it this time? The sunset was beautiful this evening, was it that?”

I chuckled at his insistence and rested my head against his chest. Again he smelt of warm fire and cloying smoke; on his cheek he’d missed a smear of charcoal, I reached up and brushed it away.

“I didn’t see the sunset tonight, I’ve been sat here at the table writing. I’m not happy with them today but… at least I can write again.”

It was a folly hoping he would just accept that and not try to read them, and for a moment I thought he would, however, releasing me, he bent down and grabbed the sheets, reading through so many half-finished haiku.

“Rika…”

“I know, I know.” I stared at the tatami floor. “I just ended up thinking, and then Hitomi came over with Shinji. Did you know he went to his first samurai lesson today, he’ll be grown in no time.”

Masuta returned to me and wound his arms around my sides, holding me tighter than before. He didn’t need to say anything, not really. He’d held me just like this every time we’d spoken or thought about the lost children. I too held him in return the day he buried the children under the kitchen. He’d cried into my kimono for the morning and we’d lay on the futon holding each other. As soon as the sun rose high in the sky, he stood up and returned to the forge as if the morning never happened. And since, he’d only held me.

“Why don’t we take your mind off these things and go travelling? It won’t be long until the next festival, and we could choose another city or town to visit.”

I shook my head. “You can’t travel any time soon, husband. There are many swords to be made, and demand has increased lately. It would take a week to travel and return, if the weather allowed for it.”

“I can’t let you stay home with these thoughts,” he replied, caressing my hair. “A new city might inspire you better.”

“Perhaps in the summer, when the forge becomes too unbearable to stand in. I’ll be fine for now.”

Masuta frowned a little, but didn’t say another word. I buried my face deeper into his kimono, feeling his strong chest and equally as strong heart beating underneath. My husband was the strongest man I’d ever met.

The next day brought heavy rain. It was grey and dull, mirroring my own feelings. I’d barely slept, laying wide awake, unable to drift off while Masuta snored softly beside me. It wasn’t until the sun started brightening the sky again that I slipped into a light sleep. It had taken all my energy to drag myself out of the futon and begin airing it ready for the evening. I wanted to just lie there, curled up in the warmth, trying to forget about yesterday. Masuta had encouraged me to wake up before he left for the forge, so for him, I did.

Yawning, I made my way over to the tea kettle and knelt down. I froze. Next to the wall sat a bowl up on a small table. I rushed over on my hands and knees, staring at the slices of peach laid out carefully. Next to the bowl was a long slip of paper covered in text; I didn’t have to read it to tell it was Masuta’s handwriting, he always pressed a little too hard with the brush, making his more complicated kanji hard to make out. The ofuda had been written on a long time ago, the edges had folded and leaning forward, I could smell charcoal. Had Masuta held onto this for a while? What was he doing now? Was this a reminder for me or…?

I sat back exhausted. Part of me wanted to go to the forge and ask him, grab his chest, and fall deeply back into his comforting arms. I couldn’t, however. I would only get in his way. I’d have to wait.

As I planted my hand on the tatami to stand, I frowned. There by the table leg lay a small bird, legs up in the air, obviously fallen. I reached for it, holding the toy gently. Many details had been stitched into the soft body, and unlike the ofuda, was new.

Why would he buy something new?

Back to the ofuda. My eyes scanned the cascading kanji inked with Masuta’s wishes. I thought he would have just wished for a child, for luck for…

It had been amended. Fresh ink ended the text, the same I’d used for my haiku. Ice ran through my veins as the room crashed down around me. The table was at an odd height. I’d thought nothing of it. But…

It was at a child’s height.

The perfect height for a child to reach the fruit and play with the toy.

This shrine was to summon a child. And with me unable to carry, there was only one type left.

Zashiki warashi.

Masuta wanted to encourage one to us, a spirit child, to bring us luck and take my mind from our past children. But what was he thinking? I would never forget them; they were right here in this house.

I did not want a replacement.

Fire now coursed through my veins and I snatched the bowl, hurrying to the shoji door, pulling it wide, and throwing the peaches to the ground. The birds could eat them. And the toy bird? I still gripped it in my fist. I’d give it away to Shinji as a good luck charm, he would need it growing up in this turbulent city. And when Masuta came home later, I’d be waiting.

The sky was inky by the time Masuta entered through the shoji door, bringing his ever-present scent of charcoal and flames. I knelt on the floor with my back to him, trying to keep my anger tamped down. I knew he was only trying to help, to do something good, but this was not the way.

“Tadaima,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Okaeri,” I replied short and controlled.

I could tell he knew something was wrong. I heard the light sigh escaping his lips, and his careful steps over the tatami. He only ever tread softly at these times. As he padded over, stepping into my view, I ached to embrace him. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

“What’s wrong, dear wife?”

That stung. I didn’t want him to try and pull me close with sweet words, reminding me I was his. I wanted to stay angry!

“I am angry with you. Did you not think I’d find the shrine you’d started? It took me a few minutes to figure it out, but I know what you are doing.”

Masuta joined me on the floor, choosing to face me. “I was not hiding it from you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about it!”

“Rika…”

“And that toy, it was new! But it was too late to have brought it last night. You’ve been planning this.”

I stared at him, his black eyes watching my every move carefully. Light wrinkles weathered his face, they deepened as he frowned.

“I thought it would help. Give you company… More than Hitomi as I know her sons sometimes make you ache deeper for your own.”

“And so you thought I’d want spirits instead?” I bore my eyes into his. “Replace my real children with ghosts.”

Masuta reached out for my arm. “No, Rika. I’d never want to replace them—”

“But you would be!”

Tears stole his face from me, rolling down my cheeks. I batted his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hurt filling his wonderful deep voice. “I thought—”

“No you didn’t. If you had…”

The rest of my words were drowned in the sobs which burst forth, my heart spilling from my mouth. I couldn’t look at him, even his tear-blurred silhouette. Jumping up, I ran to bedroom, needing to be anywhere but around him.

I had already laid the futons out, part of me knew the evening would end up like this. So as I rushed inside, I collapsed down on my futon, wrapping myself up in the blanket. It soaked up each tear which continued to fall. I’d kept them locked away all day and now I couldn’t stop them. I felt like I was crying out every last feeling trapped away, every last bit of energy my body clung onto.

Sleep starting to pull at my mind, coaxing me to let go and fall away. I fought it. I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to hurt. I’d hurt for so long…

My tears had stopped by the time the door slid open. I couldn’t tell whether I had finished crying or if my body just couldn’t cry any more. A great numbness stole my body, but did not steal my pain.

“Rika,” Masuta said softly, sitting down on his futon. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to hurt you. I want to see you smile again, properly. I thought…” He was quiet for a moment. “Zashiki warashi bring good luck. I thought if we could bring one here, it would comfort you and… maybe give us luck for a real child.”

He waited for an answer, but I didn’t give him one. I didn’t want to crack open the wound which had just stopped flowing.

“I saw you removed the food and the toy… Please don’t get rid of them. If one has already found us, it’ll take it as a sign to move on. It’ll bring us bad luck. You’ve heard the stories of zashiki warashi who have left and the family is taken ill and perished. We can’t have that.”

I bit my lip to stop any words coming out. He was being unfair. This was cruel.

Masuta leant over and brushed my hair with his warm fingers. “I love you, dear wife.”

The wound cracked. Tears rolled from the corner of my eyes. I jammed them shut to try and stop it, but it was too late.

Beside me Masuta lay down, and before long he slipped away into a sleep I couldn’t have. Instead, I lay there trying to stop the tears again, waiting and also not wanting for the sun to rise.

Masuta left earlier than normal. He’d quietly uttered a goodbye before leaving me laying on the tear-soaked futon. Eventually I’d pulled myself away and started the chores of airing the futons; mine especially needed it today. I tried not to think about anything, focussing on each step. As I folded Masuta’s futon, I held it close. It smelt of him, his warmth, and I desperately wanted his comfort.

Tears started to well once more, and I shook my head. I was determined to make it all morning without another tear. Instead I placed the futon down and head into the kitchen. I tried to not think about the shrine which I knew still sat beckoning a zashiki warashi. The disgust crept in and wormed deeper and deeper, making my skin crawl, as if insects were eating me alive. Would I then be buried under this very kitchen too?

I knew it wouldn’t stop until I went to the shrine. It was a farce thinking I could just stand here in the kitchen, pretending it didn’t exist, pretending the day was just like any other. Sighing, I made my way over. The table stood as it had yesterday, bowl sat neatly filled with fresh slices of peach, ofuda laid out carefully beside it. The toy bird hadn’t returned or been replaced, however. I’d given Shinji the one I had found, he’d appreciated the gift, promising to keep it with him when he was a fully grown samurai.

My hands ached to grab the bowl again, throwing the peach slices out for the birds once more. It would be so easy to do. I rested my hands on the table edge, fingertips running against the wood. One move, something so simple, and our lives could be changed. The bad luck would only happen once the zashiki warashi was here, however even I knew how dangerous it would be to even test it. Spirits were fickle, it didn’t take much to anger them, especially children. And how much more bad luck could we survive? I could imagine pulling omikuji fortunes from the city shrine, all covered in one word: misfortune. Even folding it and tying it to the pine tree nearby would stop nothing. Instead, the tree would continue to gain more and more omikuji, all mine.

I let go of the table. I would not disturb the shrine.

Instead, I returned to the pile of half-written haiku I’d left out. Perhaps… Perhaps the zashiki warashi would like one. I’d need to write a new one, however. Bringing the ink stone out, I started to think of the words which would please a spirit. My mind was far too fuzzy to think of much, exhaustion still pulled at every fibre of my body.

My life has been hard

but perhaps if you arrive

things will be happier

I clamped my eyes shut. Fear. It was fear grasping hold of my heart. Every child so far had been taken from me. I couldn’t face it again. It would break me into a hundred pieces more, shattered all over the tatami.

Sleep called to me, sat there, eyes closed, heart hurting. It pulled me out of the thoughts, into a dark nothingness. It would be easy to let it take me, to give me respite from the pain. It wasn’t even much of a choice, not really. All I had to do was lay my head down on the tatami.

Eyes open again briefly, the room blurry from exhaustion and tears. The floor did look very inviting. I’d rest for just a moment, that would be fine.

As I lay down, head resting on my arm, I could hear the strangest noise. I almost got back up to investigate, but the tendrils of sleep gripped tight, keeping me tied to the floor. Again the noise came, like soft footsteps on the tatami... Too light to be Masuta, it sounded like… a child…

The house was quiet when I woke. At first I could only hear my own breathing, and then muffled sounds from Hitomi’s house next door. It was still day time, the sun filtered through the shoji screen, creating light squares on the tatami. I reached out and traced the edges, feeling the warmth. Sleep had been what I needed. My mind felt clearer, my heart lighter.

I sat up and pulled my kimono back in place, in my hand—

In my hand was the bird toy. The one I had given to Shinji. Had they come to visit while I was asleep? I should go over and check.

Clambering to my feet, I started to head towards the door, groggy and disorientated. Why hadn’t they woken me up? It wasn’t the first time they’d appeared while I was sleeping. When the heat became too much to handle, I tried to sleep through it. Sometimes it worked, other times I lay, sweating, hoping for cool air to flow through the house.

I stopped.

Right in the entranceway were grey outlined footprints, and bending to check them closer, I realised it was ash. Perhaps Masuta had been back instead? Although they were far too small—

“Konnichiwa.”

“Ah!” I spun around. A young girl stood in the entrance to the kitchen. “Wha—Who—”

She giggled in response.

I stared at her. She looked around seven, clad in a pink-patterned kimono with short bobbed hair. What was she doing here?

“Can I have my bird?” she asked, pointing to the toy in my hand.

“Uh… S-Sure.” I held it out and she hurried over, picking it up with joy. “I… I don’t know why I have it.”

She giggled again. “Because I gave it to you.” With her free hand, she reached out and took hold of mine. “Now we are connected.”

“We are?”

“Yes.” She beamed and held on to me tighter.

Warmth came from her hand, and a familiar ache pulled at my heart. If one of my children had survived, they’d be around this age now. And it’d be far too easy to believe she was. I looked at her face, how her chin followed the same contours as Masuta’s. She looked just like him.

“What’s your name?”

“Aiko.”

My breath caught in my throat. Ice filled my veins. I’d named one of my children Aiko, taking the word of love itself, ai, to fill her name.

“Do you like my name?” Aiko asked, looking up at me with big black eyes.

“I… I love it,” I said, grief rising up my throat. It clamped it shut, barely letting words escape.

“I’m happy, and now maybe you’ll be happy again too.”

I didn’t need to ask who she was anymore. Those words alone answered it for me. Zashiki warashi. Masuta had managed to encourage one here after all. I wanted to stay angry, be hurt for what he did… but Aiko… She smiled at me brightly, with a warmth I’d always wanted to see. How could I be angry when she… she was here.

I thought back to the piles of haiku, to all the thoughts I’d committed to paper.

“Aiko,” I said reaching out to stroke her soft black hair. “Would you like to see the haiku I wrote for you?”

Sparks appeared in her eyes and she jumped up and down. “Yes please. I want to hear them all.”

Together we walked hand in hand to my table, and as I sat down on the floor, Aiko climbed on my lap. I paused. I’d never had a child sit on my lap let alone…

“Which one should we read first?” she asked, excited.

“U-Um. Let’s see. Well we could start with this one I wrote today—”

“Yes yes!”

Wrapping an arm around her, I held Aiko close as I started reading out the words from my heart.

It was an inky night again as Masuta came home, no doubt smelling deeply of charcoal and sweat.

“Tadaima,” he called out, voice full of weariness.

“Okaeri,” I replied, face resting on Aiko’s shoulder.

“Okaeriiiiii!” Aiko added, loud.

Heavy footsteps rushed into the room and Masuta stood staring at us. “I-Is…”

“Konnichiwa, I’m Aiko.”

“A-Aiko…” He collapsed down to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks. It wasn’t pain which spilled the tears, however. A wobbly smile broke across his face. “Of course you’re Aiko.”

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

The sprawling green land was glorious from high up in the sky. Between the fluffy clouds the sun bathed everything below in warm light, and the snowy mountain tops glittered. I could just about see the blue rivers on the land weaving like branches all the way to the oceans. I never got bored of seeing it all.

Most of my time was spent diving around giant clouds bursting with water or soaring higher and higher until the land below became smaller than my beak, and other lands far away of green and brown came into view. I hadn’t ever flown that far before, a deep pull kept me to the same patch of skies. It was lonely sometimes, but I didn’t mind, as the lands beneath me were fascinating. I knew little about them, and ever so often I’d fly closer to try and glean more knowledge. However, the lives of suzaku weren’t easy. The great vermillion bird of the skies, wings spreading wide, so much that we could block sunlight if we flew high enough. But flying low, was a different matter. Even the youngest suzaku were too big to fly low to the lands.

In the past it had been attempted, a brave suzaku had circled lower until the tips of his wings brushed against tree-filled mountain tops, setting them ablaze, and in return he’d frightened the beings down there. The sun god herself, Amaterasu, had intervened, banishing him back up where we belonged. She’d bestowed two things before she left, to sate his curiosity. The beings below were called humans, the same form which she took, and our role was to protect them with our great wings. Up here we kept the skies clear, and only shared it with the gods residing in their sky castle.

I’d been told the story as a small suzaku and it’d always stayed with me. And now, it was all I could think about. Every time I flew I found myself edging closer to the lands to catch a peek of something new. I wanted to see them too, the humans, living down there between the land trees.

The other suzaku had noted my attempts at getting closer, following me in secret. I’d thought I’d been alone all this time until they summoned me to the great sky tree.

Not far from the god’s sky castle spread the biggest tree in the skies; bare branches spread wide, their leaves had dropped centuries ago. I’d landed down on the rocky expanse it clung to, looking up at the elders. Four of them perched on the thick branches, their wings now too old to carry them far.

“You know the rules, we cannot stray too close to the lands. You’re a being of fire, you remember what happened in our past.” The oldest suzaku spoke firmly, there was no ignoring his words. His red feathers now grew white from age, and none of us knew exactly how old he was. “You cannot get close to them. We are not like them. Stay up here where we belong.”

But that was precisely the point. I knew what we were, I knew all the other birds in the sky, from the cranes to the sparrows, but I didn’t know anything about the humans.

I’d flown away disheartened, trying to ignore the pull in my mind to go searching once again. Instead of flying lower, I kept on to the furthest reaches I’d ever been. Further than the last sky tree, where the oceans spread out far. And now this is where I stayed, alone, watching below as the lands changed. Trees grew greener as seasons passed until the snow blanketed the land again. It fell from the thick clouds around me, plummeting down on the humans.

Now the warm sun drowned itself in the seas of the world once more, bringing darkness to the sky. It would return again soon enough, birthing from the waters anew. In the meantime, I planned to go in search of the closest sky tree. The sun’s power was weaker during this season, and I couldn’t fly as long without resting; when day broke the rays would boost my energy so I could fly again.

Other suzaku had flown south to chase after heat but I preferred the cold of the winter. I loved the chill along my feathers, the biting iciness threatening to seize my muscles and send me downwards. Some days, it was almost tempted to let happen.

In the darkness, the bright moon shone a cold light. It was higher up in the sky than I’d ever flown, but many had tried to reach it. Every suzaku who tried had failed, giving in to exhaustion long before they got close. Some had even died to the folly, their lifeless bodies dropping out of the sky. Now the elders forbid it because of danger, and fear the gods would return to punish us.

“Suzaku.”

A deep voice called in the air, riding along a zephyr of wind. I scanned around for the source, but in the vast open night sky I was alone. Even the clouds had vanished.

“Suzaku.”

I flapped my wings harder, panic rising. Was there a hidden suzaku out there? Suddenly the moonlight brightened, white light blinding, forcing me to close my eyes. I relied on wind currents against my feathers to keep me afloat. It wouldn’t keep me safe for long; I had to see again.

Eventually, the light seemed to dim behind my eyelids, so I tried cracking them open. The moon and its light had returned to normal. I opened my eyes fully and paused. Now in the skies, bathed in moonlight, hovered a strange wingless figure. His black body merged with the night, only illuminated by the moon. Was this a god, one with the same form as humans? I stared incredulously as next to him grew a sky tree from nothing, dark branches spreading out wide and leafless.

Definitely a god.

What had I done wrong?

“Perch here,” the creature said in the same voice that rode the wind before. “I want to talk to you.”

Now I had a decision. I knew better than to trust strange creatures, especially ones which appeared in the sky, but… if he was a god, I couldn’t ignore him.

I knew the other suzaku would be furious; they’d scold me again and again for not flying away, however, curiosity got the better of me. I circled the newly formed sky tree before slowing my wing beats and approaching. The branches were wide enough for me to land and tuck my wings snug against my body. Almost too perfect. Sky trees always grew wild and made nesting difficult.

“Who are you?” I demanded. “What are you? What is this place?”

“My name is Tsukuyomi, god of the moon.” The deep voice called to me. “I reside in its light. The form I take is human, as I have many people who I guide down on the lands of Yamato. I made this tree so that we may speak, if you’ll allow me.”

Tsukuyomi floated up and joined me on the sky tree, choosing a smaller branch. I could see him better now, his face was flat and round like the moon, and his black body was covered in grey patterns, and even sparkled at the edges. It was amazing that unlike suzaku, he had no wings! I wanted to just reach out and peck at where his feathers should be, seeing what actually was there. I almost did until I met his eyes which were small and black, but pierced their way through me. From them, I could sense no animosity, so I relaxed a little.

“Great suzaku of the skies, protector of the lands beneath, of Yamato. I’ve watched you all for so long, watched how my sister scolded your curiosity and love for below. Yes, suzaku are large, filling the skies with your wings, but that shouldn’t stop you from exploring what is dear to your hearts. How can you protect what you don’t know? It’s only natural that you want to know more.”

“It’s safer up here,” I parroted the elders. “We can’t hurt or frighten the humans.”

“This may be true, or just my sister’s words. But even gods can be wrong. Great suzaku, gods have many gifts, powers over nature. I can change the moon as I see fit, I can create what I wish, and… I could help you. Do you want to go and see the humans? Without the issues you worry about. That’s not outside of my powers.”

“Help me?” I mulled over his words. I couldn’t deny that I still wanted to get closer to the humans, to learn more, but would I have to forsake my form now? It was all I knew…

Tsukuyomi moved closer and reached out to my deep red feathers, touching them lightly. I froze. How dare he touch me, a suzaku? We ruled the sky! In anger, I pecked him! My beak tapped against his chest, pushing him away. And yet, he didn’t move. He kept his connection, and from his touch came a warmth that spread around my body. A warmth that soothed my muscles, my insides, my mind. I wanted to fear him, fear what was happening to me, but a calmness washed over me.

“Here. Take this mere fraction of my power. Use it however you wish, whether that is going to visit Yamato or even making yourself immortal, whatever you desire. A gift to atone for my sister’s punishment.”

“Immortality?” I ruffled my feathers at him. “There is very little up here that can hurt me! Only age will take my life, eventually. You know this.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” He let go of me and floated again until his eyes met mine. “There are many gods, and not all of them have your best interests in mind. Nor mine.”

“And what do you get from this?” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “Such a gift is never given lightly.”

“An alliance. I need protection, and who better to ask than the great sky protectors themselves. I offer you enough power to make many smaller choices, or a big one. That is your choice. Whatever you choose, I ask you help me when I need it, come when I call, and help me in the fight against my enemies. I will do the same for you. Call for me, and I’ll answer if I can.” I stared at him. “Don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I won’t be asking you for anything too big. I hoped suzaku could watch out for threats against me, against humans on Yamato.”

I’d never fought for anything before, how was I supposed to help a god?

“I… I’m used to being alone, I don’t know how to do what you need.” I glanced downwards at Yamato. He was offering all that I wanted.

“All you need to do is watch for now. I’ll explain more in time,” his voice soothed.

“Wouldn’t you rather go see them, the humans?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then go see them. And find me once you have an answer,” Tsukuyomi said, nodding his head. “Or once you have used your gift.”

I froze as Tsukuyomi’s power pulsed through my veins. I could feel it, a great strength aching to be used. It wouldn’t take much to just reach for it and choose.

I looked down towards the green land below – Yamato, he’d called it. If I was a smaller bird I could flit around undetected, free to explore as I wished. A sparrow, that’s what I’d be. I wouldn’t dare changing into a human myself, the thought terrified me.

Pausing, I asked gently, “but what if I don’t like it? I won’t be able to change back.”

“Let me,” he said, reaching for me once more. “What do you want?”

“To be a sparrow.”

I want to see the humans.

One thought and the world changed. The branches of the sky tree now grew wider and climbed higher; the chill air which I normally loved along my wings now cut deep. I turned my head to look at myself and my red feathers were now a dappled brown. I was, indeed, a sparrow.

Tsukuyomi reached out to me once more, lifting me into his warm not-feathered appendage. I touched it with my now short beak. It certainly wasn’t a wing. In fact it was soft, softer even than the fluffy feathers that lined my belly.

“You’ll freeze at these heights like that.” Tsukuyomi said, his voice warm. “Up here is not suitable for a sparrow at all, even here in my hand. Let me help.”

He took his other not-wing-hand and brought them together, covering me in darkness.

This is help? I can’t escape! You tricked me!

I pecked at anything my beak touched, flapping my wings wildly trying to escape. Again and again I looked for any escape, trying to find even the smallest gap until I eventually stopped in an exhausted mess. I should have listened to the other suzaku. It was my fault for being too curious.

Tsukuyomi’s power still flowed through my body, however. I could feel it coursing around my veins. Should I use it to return to my true body? Was that a trick too?

Slowly, the darkness lifted and I shot into the air, beating my wings furiously. Away from my prison, I escaped into warm air that had lifted me up and up. I didn’t recognise anything. The clear sky was gone, as was Tsukuyomi. Now the sun rose and I was surrounded by so many strange shapes and smells and—

I crashed along the ground with a hard thump. I wasn’t used to such different wings. Quickly righting myself, I jumped up and looked around. My beloved skies were now up higher than I’d ever seen them. Am I…?

Once I’d calmed enough, I looked around again, now realising I must be down on Yamato. Tsukuyomi hadn’t lied at all. I was a fool.

But I was here! Down where the humans lived. There was so much to see, to smell, to hear, all of it was overloading my senses. There were trees down here too, full of leaves like new sky trees. And somewhere other birds called to one another, singing unrecognisable words. On the ground, crawling beings made their way through stalks of green. Another bird shot down from a tree, pecking at one of the crawling creatures, gulping it down its narrow beak.

Why would they do that? Did beings attack much more down here? I flew up into a tree for safety, just in case. The branches were as sturdy as sky trees, although were much straighter than the twisting ones in the sky. From here I could see more of them, as far as I could see. Perhaps this is where the sky trees came from? We certainly didn’t have this many, and more of them crumbled to nothing all the time.

I watched out for any birds coming close, not knowing if any were safe to be around. Now I was so much smaller, any of them could grab me. Was it foolish to turn into a sparrow? What if I came all this way just to be snatched away by claws and—

I really needed to find the humans, perhaps they could offer me protection. Though where they lived, I didn’t know; I didn’t see any here in the trees… I should have asked before leaving. Though, Tsukuyomi should still help me now, if he could hear me calling. Time to try.

“Tsukuyomi,” I called into the air. “Where are the humans?”

Silence.

I ruffled my feathers in annoyance. How was I supposed to navigate this strange world? He hadn’t told me anything about it.

A gust of wind rattled the branches. An eddy called to me, called to the power flowing through me. Tsukuyomi had heard me after all. Cautiously trusting him, I opened my wings and flew with the wind, letting it direct me somewhere new. It wound between trunks, until finally breaking into a clearing. I chirped with excitement; there were humans here! Flapping my wings, I broke away from the gust and perched on a pile of stone. I could see them closer now.

They were just like Tsukuyomi in form, they too didn’t have wings or a beak, but were able to move across the ground fine without them. Could they speak like Tsukuyomi too? Or did they sing and call just like birds?

I watched as they dipped in and out of something that looked similar to the god’s sky castle. I’d seen it from afar, not ever daring to get too close. Elder suzaku spoke of it being made of sky trees split into smaller pieces and remade into something stronger. Were these castles too? Would I be allowed in?

Flying closer, I followed one of the humans as they entered, keeping far enough away from them. As quietly as I could, I found the nearest perch high up, resting on some wood. It smelt almost similar to freshly broken branches. Perhaps the elders had been right, and humans split trees too.

Below, one human spoke to another who rested on the ground. This human was smaller in frame, and I guessed this was a female. She preened the one who rested on the ground and after a few moments, left the human castle. I took my chance to flit down to explore more, hopping around and brushing my beak against new textures.

“You’re sprightly.”

The human made a noise just like Tsukuyomi. It didn’t come out like the sing-song of other birds, but a deeper rasp. It reminded me of the wind when angry.

“But you might want to leave soon, or my wife will shoo you away,” he continued. “Though what harm can a sparrow do to a dying man?”

I paused. He didn’t sing like a suzaku but I could understand him easily enough. Mostly. I had no idea what a wife was, or a shoo. Could he understand me like Tsukuyomi? Or would that be another of the god’s powers?

I hopped a little closer, trying not to fly away in fear. Humans were much bigger this close.

“Hello,” I sang to him.

“Konnichiwa, sparrow-san.”

I jumped back. He replied to me! They could understand me!

“You can understand me?” I asked with wary excitement.

“I can,” he said again. “Which, I realise, isn’t something I have been able to do before. Huh, how strange. Have I truly lost my mind that I can now understand birds?”

The human turned to his side, facing me fully. I never thought I would see a human this close up! And he was so large! Although of course I would feel that way as a sparrow. If I was my true self I’d dwarf him.

“What’s your name, sparrow-san?”

My name? I had one of those long ago, when I was a hatchling. I’d spent so much time alone since then, I’d forgotten.

“I don’t have one. What’s yours?”

“Hotaka Wada. I’d bow to you, sparrow-san, but my body barely listens to me now. That’s why I lay here on my futon, watching the days go by.” What was bowing? And a futon? He did seem to be perching on something soft. “Excuse me, I’ve never spoken to a bird before. What can you tell me about the outside? I haven’t been strong enough to go out there for a while.”

“What is outside?”

Hotaka made an airy sound, and I could sense amusement from him. “Where the trees are, sparrow-san. And the rivers, and the mountains... Anywhere but in here.”

Truthfully, I couldn’t tell him much about the trees, or the other things he spoke of. I wasn’t even sure if I should speak of my home so far up in the sky. So instead, I spoke of what I knew best.

“The sky is bright today, and a chill rides along the wind. It coats my feathers and tries to sink deeply, however I keep it away.”

“Is that so,” he said, moving his head up and down slightly. “The nurse told me it will snow today. She can feel it in the air. Make sure you have somewhere warm to go.”

Snow. It fell up in the sky also, the flakes drifting down from the clouds in soft patterns. Sometimes I dipped through the clouds so the frost lined my feathers.

“Do you like the snow?”

Hotaka was quiet before he answered me. “I used to, as a child. I loved playing in it, throwing it around. It was magical back then. Now, though, the cold seeps into my bones. The flesh on them is wasting away. I can’t keep warm any more.”

I thought to the elder suzaku, the ones with duller feathers who couldn’t fly as long. Was this what happened to humans when they grew older? I wasn’t sure.

“Hotaka, you seem to have a new visitor.”

I looked up as the other human neared, from down here I could see her round face and in her carrying something in her non-wings Tsukuyomi had called hands.

“Sorry, you need to leave now, little sparrow. My husband needs to eat.”

“Don’t shoo it away,” Hotaka said to her, annoyed. “At least let it stay up in the rafters.”

“Not today,” she replied. “The room needs to be clean. What if it’s droppings end up in your rice?”

He grumbled. “Come back, sparrow-san. I want to hear more of the outside.”

Before I could reply to him, the female waved her hands at me, and I hurried back out the opening I’d entered from. She didn’t stop until I was back out into the open air and I was left confused. Was that the shoo? I didn’t understand. I wanted to go back to Hotaka.

I knew she would wave again if I tried to go near again so I flew back to the safety of the trees. Hotaka had wanted to know more about this outside, so before I went back to him, I’d learn more. And maybe then the other human wouldn’t send me away again. Even suzaku didn’t force others away when new information was shared.

The sky was darker now, with thick clouds blanketing the view above. It was harder to see now but with beating wings I soared up higher, rising far above the trees. Yamato was so different from my home, the sounds, the smells, I was excited to explore it all, to experience so much more than the skies I’d grown bored of. How long had Tsukuyomi been watching me? Had he truly known what I yearned for and sought me out?

His words had been confusing, and I wasn’t sure what kind of threats he had to watch for. What if they came for me before he told me who or what they were? Here in the sky I saw other birds, but they certainly were no threat to a god. And the humans… Maybe they weren’t to be trusted after all. But, I was intrigued by Hotaka. He didn’t seem like a threat, and surely it would be safe to see him again. And if it came to it, I’d use Tsukuyomi’s gift and return to my true form.

By the time night fell, I’d flown the whole area, mapping out the lands. I was far too excited to rest and had to see everything I could. Like Hotaka’s small castle, other humans had their own all grouped together. They each smelt different, aromas I’d never encountered before tickling my insides. Up in my home, the cold muted the few smells clinging to the sky trees, but down here in the warmth they filled me, and I almost couldn’t stand their power. I wanted to ask Hotaka about it.

I’d managed to find where he was again, Hotaka’s castle smelt strong of something I couldn’t place. I’d make sure to ask him about that too.

It’d been hard to navigate in the dusky twilight and I knew I couldn’t fly for much longer in the dark. In fact, I counted on it. The female surely wouldn’t push me away if I couldn’t go far. My stomach dropped as I returned to the opening. The female was there, kneeling on the ground and beside her was a small sun. They’d caught it from the sky and trapped it in something. Hopping down, I stared at it in awe. Humans were powerful.

“Oh! You’re back. Hotaka will be pleased. Do you like the light?” The female said, watching me. “I suppose lanterns must be confusing for little birds. Stay and keep warm.”

I stared at the lantern for a long time, even after the female left, enjoying the warmth and the feel of the light on my wings. I felt my energy returning, growing even stronger than I’d had before.

Eventually I wandered away from it, heading for Hotaka. He still lay in the futon, although hadn’t stirred, even when the female spoke to me.

“Hotaka?” I tweeted.

Breath came from him steadily and I hopped closer, inspecting him. His eyes were closed and I knew he had to be sleeping. Suzaku roosted in trees when it was too dark to see any more, falling into a soft sleep. Sometimes the younger ones woke up by falling from their branches, unused to getting the right spot to nestle into. Sleeping on the ground was clever too, as the wingless humans would just fall from trees.

Cautiously, I flitted even closer, landing on his hand to inspect it. Beneath my feet was softness and no feathers to be seen at all. No wonder humans couldn’t fly.

I jumped up higher and higher until my feet were planted on the top tuft above his face. There weren’t feathers here either, just a softness. I’d never seen anything like it. Even their faces were so different to suzaku, no beaks at all; in fact their whole face was much flatter and his eyes were right there together.

Hotaka stirred, a low grumble coming from inside. “Wha… goin… on…” His eyes popped open and I stared down at them. “Sparrow-san?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing on my head?”

“Watching you.” He blinked a few times and made a strange amused rumble again. “I have never seen a human this close before.”

He shifted, moving back to his side, and I jumped back down.

“I’m glad you came back. Please don’t mind my wife Aimi, she is only trying to do what is best.”

I bobbed my head in agreement. I was glad to be back too. “I didn’t want to leave before. But I found many things on my travels, however. You asked to know about it.”

“I did,” Hotaka said, reaching out with his hand, brushing it gently against my feathers.

Hey hey! What was he doing? Just touching me like that! How could he just… but… Admittedly it did feel kind of nice. The brushing motion was soothing and I relaxed.

“So what did you learn?” he asked, still amused.

“It didn’t snow, not yet. But it will soon. There aren’t many birds around and I spotted other beings than humans I’ve never seen before. I didn’t understand so much and my mind is so full of questions.”

“You speak as if you’ve not lived in the forest your whole life.”

I ruffled my feathers, uncomfortable. What was I supposed to say to that? Was there any real point in lying?

“I… haven’t.”

“Huh?” Hotaka looked at me in confusion now. “Did you fly far from your home? Where are you from?”

“I come from the sky. Up higher than anyone can see. Up so high I watch the sun dip past the horizon and into the sea every night. I’m… not really a sparrow. I mean, I am right now, but that’s because I was given a gift. I’m a suzaku.”

Hotaka made another noise, drawing in the air around him. “A suzaku? But… Who gave you the gift?”

“His name is Tsukuyomi. I wanted to see humans, as I can’t see them from up where I live, and I’ve always been curious. He gave me a gift and I can use it how I want.”

“I knew you were special, sparrow-san, but to be blessed by a god… And now you are here.”

“I have learnt so much already, but there is so much I don’t understand.”

“Well then,” he said, nodding. “How about this, sparrow-san. If you tell me all about outside, all about what you’ve seen high in the sky, I’ll teach you about anything you want to know.”

“Really?” I hopped up and down with excitement. “I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow, though. It’s late now, and I’m tired. Sparrow-san, roost high where it’s warmest. Aimi won’t spot you there.”

I bobbed my head again. I didn’t think she’d shoo me away again, but I would, just in case. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Goodnight, sparrow-san.”

Flitting upwards, I found a cosy place to settle down and I ran through all I’d learnt so far.

*

It was the same the next day. I’d woken when the sun rose once more, and spent time talking to Hotaka before the wife shooed me away during his mealtime. She said I was too dirty. I’d ruffled my feathers at her for that. I was not dirty!

Unlike me, Hotaka and other humans needed to get their energy from eating. He’d explained all about food and how many other beings—animals—did the same. It had been fascinating.

During the day I continued to explore nearby, bravely going further each time. I checked out tall trees with bare branches, and spindly trees with thin prickly leaves, all so different from sky trees. I flew through the human village, checking out the castles which Hotaka called houses, and peered closer at other humans. And then once the sun disappeared again, I flew back to Hotaka and told him all about it.

He was thankful for all I told him, and in return I learnt a lot. Hotaka shared stories about the village he lived in, his wife, and all about the gods. He explained how he spent a lot of time sleeping as his body was sick and wasn’t getting better after he collapsed one day. The reason his house smelt different to the others was from all the medicines his wife gave Hotaka, trying to heal him. After that I watched him closer. I couldn’t tell a sick human from a not-sick human, and I was determined to figure it out.

Each day the air grew colder on my wings. Snow still threatened and I looked forward to seeing how it fell down here on the ground. Hotaka, however, grew quieter. I wondered if he was bored of laying in the futon every day, and decided to go out and find something to bring back for him this time. I was strong enough to carry something small, and I was confident in finding my way back.

“Sparrow-san,” he said quietly, just before I left him for my daily adventure. “Thank you for the company. You’ve been a good friend to me. Why don’t you go further today? Try to find more people to talk to.”

“I have a plan today,” I replied proudly. The day before I’d met with human hatchlings who promised to leave out a shiny rock for me. Today I’d fetch it to show Hotaka. He’d love it.

“Good,” Hotaka said, his breath light. “Goodbye, sparrow-san.”

I flew off as usual, wings beating fast against the chill air and soared around the village. Humans had all sorts of creations, and I knew Hotaka would love seeing something from the outside that he could keep beside him.

The sun was hiding behind clouds today. They stretched across the whole sky, thick and grey. After days of saying snow would fall, it looked like Aimi would finally be correct. In fact, it didn’t even wait until I’d flown for long at all. The first fat snowflakes dropped as I’d approached a house that was full of human hatchlings. They tickled as they touched my feathers, and I hurried. I’d never tried these new wings in wetter weather and I needed to make sure to stay warm enough.

I hoped the shiny stone would be easy to find. The human told me she’d leave it on a fresh tree stump near to her house. Lightning had struck the whole tree down, leaving a charred mess; the human liked it though, as the black remnants coloured her hands. As I weaved between houses, I looked for it in the dying light. The snow certainly made things more difficult, but even the worsening weather couldn’t keep me from my plan.

Despite the snow, the blackened stump came into view. I dove down to the ground, spotting the human hatchlings from before running around in the snow, waving their arms happily in the air. The shiny stone sat on the stump, alongside a pile of seeds and a twig. The young humans had left me more gifts, and I needed to make sure to come back and thank them when they weren’t busy. I didn’t think they could understand me as much as Hotaka could, but they enjoyed seeing me and had tried to touch my feathers just as Hotaka did. In fact, any human I tried to talk to struggled, yet Hotaka could understand me fine. I really couldn’t understand why.

I managed to grab the stone with my short beak and held on tight before taking off back into the freezing air. The snow was falling faster now, and it started to pile up on the ground. I’d seen it land on sky trees before, glittering in the sun after falling softly, but down here it was a muted soft white. Flakes landed on my head, covering my eyes, and I blinked to try and shake them off. I never realised how difficult it was to fly in snow down here; the flakes seemed to fall with animosity, striking me at any opportunity.

It wasn’t long before I had found my way back, despite the snow’s attempt to stop me, and I dipped back into where Hotaka lay. His wife always made sure to leave the door open just enough that I could fit through. I think she liked me too.

Landing on the ground beside his futon, I placed the shiny stone down on the ground. He wasn’t lying there now, but that was normal as sometimes his wife helped him try to move around. I’d wait right here for him to come back and show him his present. In the meantime, I shook my feathers to rid the snow, and warm up a little from the bitter cold.

“Ah, sparrow-san, you’re back,” Aimi said cheerily. “It finally snowed—w-what? Where’s Hotaka?”

Cheer vanished in a second as she almost threw the rice bowl in her hands to the floor and hurried out of the door. A horrible feeling filled my insides. There was still a lot I needed to learn about humans, but even I could tell something was really wrong.

Where could he be? He struggled to sit up and was more tired lately. Did another human take him to see outside? He always talked about it.

I shot out into the snow, soaring up as high as I could and scanned for him. In the snow he would stand out as his kimono was a dark grey today. But unlike suzaku, Hotaka could change them! What if he wore a white one? I would never find him in this snow.

I circled around and around trying to spot any sign of him, my panic rising. Maybe he had wanted to see the snow now that it had finally started to fall, there were trees nearby he could rest under and view… but would he really do that? I scanned the snow. It was falling so fast now, if he had disturbed it, flakes would have covered it over again.

I couldn’t see in this snow! It made me so angry and I just wanted to melt it all away. Anything to find my friend.

There.

A splash of grey marred the snow. I dove down and down, blinking away snow covering my eyes once more. I didn’t even try to land and barrelled into a pile of snow instead, jumping up to face him. I found Hotaka.

He looked different now, paler, except his lips which had changed to blue. His body shook and I knew he was so cold.

“There you are! What are you doing?”

“S-Sparrow-san… I t-thought you w-were going further.”

“I have a gift for you. Come back to your nest and I will show you.”

Hotaka shook his head. “No. I’m n-not going b-back.”

“But…”

“You’ve been a g-good f-friend, sparrow-san.”

I hopped up and down unsure what to do. It felt wrong.

Hotaka closed his eyes and I flittered up and pecked his face. “What are you doing?”

“I am not wasting away in a b-bed any longer. I’ll die out h-here in the s-snow. I’d use a b-blade, but I’m t-too cowardly.”

I let the snowy wind drop me back down as I felt a heaviness take over. Suzaku didn’t die often, but could roam for many years unless something took us. I couldn’t understand this. Was it another human thing?

“I don’t want you to die.”

Hotaka didn’t respond. His body had stopped shaking, and I could see only a light breath clouding the air. I felt so powerless, me, a suzaku, great vermillion bird of the skies. How did I have no—

“Hotaka! Hotaka!” I rushed back to his face, pecking him to wake up. “You don’t have to die! Maybe I can help.”

He hummed a reply and I took it as a yes. I would save my friend… though I wasn’t sure how. I thought back to Tsukuyomi’s words, how I could use the magical gift he bestowed on me. One big thing, he’d said. I never cared for immortality or anything like that. I cared for Hotaka.

Landing on Hotaka’s head I closed my eyes and called to Tsukuyomi, begging for my only wish to be granted.

Please. Save my friend.

*

The house was empty now. Not of belongings or memories, they were scattered everywhere. On the floor lay a folded up futon in the corner, and another sprawled out. Too much time had been spent in it, watching the sun rise and set and rise again. But, those weren’t quite my memories. Neither were the ones of soaring in the open skies, free and limitless. Our thoughts and feelings now melded, but often raged free at strong feelings. It felt as if our very souls were breaking free.

We were one now, Hotaka’s revitalised body and suzaku’s long life and magic. A gift which had given new life to the both of us. We could do anything now.

It had been a week since the day in the snow, since Aimi had been left behind. We let her believe Hotaka had died out in the snow, disappearing into the frozen air. He would have, if Tsukuyomi’s gift hadn’t worked.

Beside the messy futon lay a tantou sheathed in a wooden scabbard; its short blade still as sharp as the day it was honed. Aimi would notice it’s disappearance, and maybe she’d believe that somewhere Hotaka would be safe.

I’d keep him safe. I saved his life. And now we’d live to see many more snowfalls and sunrises.

A quick change of kimono and we were done here. I slid the tantou into the kimono front, keeping it close to our strong beating heart. I wasn’t sure what was next, only that we needed to find Tsukuyomi. Not only were we indebted to him, but there was the matter of his threats. Now with our joined mind I saw how Tsukuyomi had used my curiosity to make me help him, to protect him from enemies. I didn’t know how to feel about it. Without him there would be no… this. Whatever we were now.

Stepping out into the night, I followed the light of the moon away from the village until a shrine came into view. It was half-buried in snow and all offerings were frozen, however it would be enough for what I needed. Nobody would recognise Hotaka’s body out in the night, and if anyone looked in this direction, all they’d see is a traveller, face hidden under a bamboo kasa. The hat would keep us safe in the weather, also.

“Tsukuyomi,” I said, gently in the wind. “I call to you from this body, but you know me. I’m—”

“—the suzaku I gifted my power,” Tsukuyomi finished.

I turned around to see him standing in moonlight, his black kimono brushing against the snow.

“I see the sparrow wasn’t enough for you. Although I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve never seen my power used like this before, but I have seen many use it to save others.”

I frowned. “Others? You’ve given your power out before?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think you were the first?”

“I…” I never really thought about it before. He was right, I shouldn’t be surprised. “I’ve come to ask you about the threats. As you can see, I accepted your terms. I don’t know if this changes anything, as I can’t see things from high any more.”

Tsukuyomi watched me carefully before speaking again. “This form will need magic to survive. You’ll be of no use to me as my eyes right now, you’ll need to learn how to survive like this first. Go and explore the world, suzaku, and call for me when have learnt.”

“Hotaka,” I replied. “That’s my name.”

He smiled gently. “Try going south, Hotaka. I feel you’ll find some answers there.”

“South,” I repeated. “It’s been a long time since I went south.”

The moonlight dimmed, and along with it vanished Tsukuyomi, leaving me standing in the snow. I had answers for now though. We’d head south and learn this new body fully.

And together we’d keep on surviving.

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

I held his hand tightly and stifled the embarrassed giggle that tried to escape my lips. I’d never even held a man’s hand like this before, let alone snuck out into the warm inky evening.

“How much further?” I asked as we hurried along the street and out of sight.

“We’ll hide between the trees along the river,” Chouhei said quietly, trying to tamper down his excitement. We’d made it this far without being caught. “Nobody will see us there.”

Chouhei’s hand was strong yet gentle, holding onto mine. He never walked so fast that I couldn’t keep up in my wooden geta. The shoes tapped down the street, echoing in the quietness. A kind soul at heart, I could almost forget he was a soldier.

Tonight he was without armour or weapons, just thin cloth between myself and him. Soon he would go off to yet another skirmish and fight battles for daimyo and warlords. It was important, he told me, and I’m sure it was to him, but I just wanted another moment, another day with him. What if he kissed me? I would not want to let him go. If he died in battle, whoever would take my broken heart? I had already decided it was all for him.

It was scandalous, really, sneaking out of my home to be here with him. If we were caught I would bring much shame… but right now, in this moment, with the no moon to betray us, I didn’t care.

I trusted each step we took, leaving the main street and following a worn dirt path made by the farmers. It was harder to see out here, especially with the long fields of crops to hide us, and, who was awake to spot us now?

From the path, we made our way onto the soft grass and towards the darker shadows of the trees. During hot days, sometimes the children came out here to play, keeping out of the way of the busy farmers. Other times the workers rested under the shady branches, refreshed by the deep stream that cut through the town. In the darkness, however, the black branches reached out and fear began to creep into my heart.

“Are you sure this is right? What if there are ronin around? Or what if Iga-san is patrolling around here again? He will report you.”

“Okina, trust me,” he said gently. He stopped and took both of my hands. “You wanted to be alone, and this is the perfect place. Nobody can bother us here so we can be ourselves without comments.” He leant in close and I could feel his warm breath tickling my skin. “There are only a few more nights now until I leave; we should spend them together.”

I nodded. He was right. I shouldn’t let my fear get in the way.

“I’m sorry. Let’s continue.”

Even in the darkness I could tell Chouhei was smiling. “Good. We are nearly there now.”

My geta sunk deeper into the grass as we approached the safety of the oak trees. The stream always made the earth softer, and it had been raining heavily recently. One wrong step and I could slip. My mother would question me until morning if I went back with a twisted ankle.

I stepped away from the grass to the harder earth at the base of a tree. The low branches and thick leaves ensured we were finally out of sight.

It wasn’t often that I visited this side of the town, and the last time I had enjoyed the smell of the sesame growing in the nearby fields. Now a different smell lingered, rotten and foul. I wanted to suggest continuing on, but this really was the perfect place to hide.

“How long before we have to sneak back?” I asked, hoping our time could last all night long. I worried too, but tried desperately to push it away. I’d waited all day for this.

“Okina,” he said, pressing a finger to my lips. “Please, no more worrying.”

I spoke against his finger, “I don’t want you to risk a punishment because of me.”

“Too late.” He sighed dramatically and I could just about see a smile on his lips. “I already suffer punishment every time I’m away from you. My heart aches when I can’t see you, and even more so when I see but can’t touch you.”

I laughed and stared down at the vague dark shape of my feet. “My mother worries that my heart would break if I gave it to a soldier. What if you die in battle?”

“And what do you think?”

“I think that…” Heat filled my cheeks. I couldn’t tell him what I really thought! It was shameful to be so open with feelings. Instead thought about him leaving. “I am going to miss you.”

Chouhei let go of me. The cool air reached my slightly sweaty fingers and I missed his touch. But his hand quickly returned to my skin, cupping my chin and lifting it to face him.

“Is that all you’re thinking?”

My face burned hotter. He was going to kiss me this time, I was sure of it. Oh, my heart was pounding away in my chest and was I really ready to know what it was like? What if I didn’t like it?

“I—”

Chouhei didn’t wait for me to say any more before his lips moved closer. I closed my eyes, heartbeat thrashing away faster in my chest.

Oh I am certainly in love.

His lips descended on mine and pressed against them soft at first, slowly growing with hunger. The air around me suddenly chilled and every small touch made my skin burn deliciously hotter. Why did he have to leave me behind?

Chouhei broke the kiss and I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

“I will miss you too. But I will promise I’ll fight bravely and return to you, my love.”

I smiled as my insides twisted and turned in happiness. He really said it! “Is that what I am now?” I asked coyly, making sure what I heard was really true.

“Yes, of course.” Chouhei smiled and ran a thumb down my cheek. His face was beautiful, round and soft. “And soon we won’t have to hide away in dark surrounded by… whatever that smell is.”

“I thought it was only me who could smell it,” I said laughing all too easily now. He was all I wanted. “I didn’t realise the fields were so stinky.”

“They’re not normally,” he said, voice trailing off. Chouhei let go of me and turned around. “I think I smell burning.”

I sniffed the air. Still the rotten smell lingered, but I couldn’t smell burning. Instead it felt colder, like a chill winter wind. Chouhei started to walk away and I grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Then come with me. I need to make sure nothing is burning.”

I frowned. “But you’d see it, surely?”

“Not always.” Chouhei reached for my hand gripping tight to his grey yukata. “Are you coming?”

I whimpered but nodded. I didn’t want to stand here alone in the darkness. Together we stepped closer to the stream still gurgling away. I tried to look out for anything, but everything was muted grey in the deep evening.

He paused.

“Chou—”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Taking my shoulders, he turned me around and pushed my back lightly. “Let’s go back this way.”

A giggle.

I froze. Was someone else here?

“Okina, go home.” Chouhei’s voice was gruffer than I’d ever heard before.

I couldn’t move. Not even to grab for his hand.

The air chilled deeper as a blue light illuminated the trees in front of me. Chouhei wrapped his arms tight around my waist and started to lift me, his breath heavy in my ears. He stopped. Whined. Held so tight I couldn’t turn back.

“Cho-Cho—”

He lay heavy against me now, I had to hold him up. Too heavy. All I could do was lower him to the ground as his weight pushed me down. He slipped out of my arms and landed with a hard thump, head smacking against the tree trunk.

“Chouhei?” I whimpered, kneeling down to shake him, rolling him onto his back. Tears flooded my eyes. “P-Please answer me.”

His back burnt blue as fire rose, pooling into a large ball of flame. I stared. Screamed. Scrambled backwards away from it all. An airy sound filled my ears, giggling over and over. I kept moving, crawling, my yukata opening and bare knees hitting the dirt. I made it as far as the stream before stopping, trying to catch a breath as I shook with fear. The blue light vanished. I scanned around and saw nothing. Just blackness.

“No, no it’s wrong. This is wrong,” I cried.

The rotting smell was stronger here, putrid and overpowering. Tearful coughs racked my chest. Food started to rise from my stomach. I bent over and spat it over the grass, planting my hand down to steady myself. A cold wetness covered my skin. Once my stomach had emptied I pulled it back away, bringing a fresh wave of rottenness.

Giggling.

No. No. No.

Blue light flooded the area once again. It rose as fire from the body slumped far from me. Chouhei. The fire split again and again into smaller flames, spreading out, heading closer. Beside me illuminated a new figure. I stared. He was dead, eyes open, blood coating the grass. His mire now slick on my fingers. I backed up further, falling into the stream, the blue flames following me. They danced in the air, growing brighter still until all I could see was blue. One dipped down fast towards my face, flames licking my skin as it brushed my cheek. I gasped. Choked on freezing air.

Tired. I was so tired.

My ears rang with fervent giggling as they darted around again, diving through my pink yukata into my arms, legs... My back exploded in pain. I cried out for Chouhei, for anyone, to hear me, to save me.

Again and again they came and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Even with my eyes shut I could still see the bright blue light.

Feeling ebbed away.

Just light, only light.

Mother had always warned me not to go out at night.

I should have stayed at home—

—and wondered why there was so much fog. In all my years I hadn’t seen such thick fog early in the morning. I could hardly see through some of it as I patrolled the streets. Farmers were eager to start tending to their fields and yet the long white patches clung to the greenery. Some had come to me soon after dawn speaking of strange noises in the night, screams and howls of a raging beast. They shut themselves away, unwilling to leave until the summer fog lifted. I’d promised them I’d search the whole town, it was my duty after all. There had also been more people reporting unrest lately, of ronin taking chances at our prosperous town, and I needed to keep everyone safe as best as I could.

At my side I carried an uchigatana, a blade passed down our family for three generations. It wasn’t the best quality, but it made me feel better when patrolling. My grandfather named it Hogomaru—Protective Circle—to surround the family in its protection. It had worked so far; my grandfather and father both lived long lives before old age took them. I hoped to pass it on to my eldest son when I grew too old to wield it. I had already decided that I wanted to move to a coastal town for my final years. It was a dream, mostly. My duty kept me here.

The empty streets seemed smaller in the early morning, the houses towering higher, looming over me. Any danger could be hiding in the deceptive fog. I stopped my sandals from pattered loud against the wooden bridge as I crossed over the deep stream which cut through the town. It gurgled away crashing over rocks, and any other morning I would be soothed by the noise. But not today.

Continuing down the long street, I passed closed shops and quiet houses. Few dared to walk out in this weather, fear keeping them locked away. I wasn’t afraid, however. I’d fought off ronin and wild beasts before, and neither would be a match for Hogomaru. They’d ambushed me on the way to the temple posing as travellers and failed to hide their weapons well enough. I didn’t know what they had been planning, but Hogomaru had spilt blood on the street that day.

I took the first left now to check towards the shrine. The priest would be awake now, starting to pray. Had he heard anything?

I made it as far as the great torii gate before I stopped. It peeked through the low hanging fog, proving the gods stronger than any weather. It was reminders such as these that kept my faith strong.

A deep voice called out to me. “Iga-san?”

“Yes?”

“Thank goodness.” A male figure scurried out of a nearby house bowing. “I need to report something. My wife was awake last night, she couldn’t sleep. Said there was a beast out there or some kind of yokai. Horrible sounds she said. Screaming, wailing.”

I nodded and smiled to try and calm him. “Thank you. I have heard the same from others. The fog is frightening many. I will go and investigate and find the source. Perhaps it was kitsune and foxes playing tricks on us, they’ve done it before. Remember the kitsunebi that floated through the town. It was as bright as lanterns, deep red flames which frightened so many.”

He calmed a little and let out a short breath. “Yes, you’re right. The other farmers never forgave them for that. Some even gave Inari more food to make them stop. Thank you, Iga-san. I will let you continue.”

I bowed to him once more before he slipped back home. I didn’t think it was kitsune trickery, but I’d never let him know that. Nobody had spoke of lights or fire and the priest had assured me the kitsune had moved far away from us now. It had to be something else.

From here I could normally look out over the fields thick with green leaves of various crops. My favourite was the rows of sesame with their strong smell. Another was full of indigo plants, owned by the Sakata family who supplied the town with rich dye. The brother, Takayuki, always harvested in the late morning, before the sun reached its highest point. All our fields surrounded the town so workers didn’t have to travel too far. It made patrolling easier too. Now they were all smothered in a cottony whiteness.

I frowned. A flash of light, though brief, penetrated through the fog. Had some braved the weather after all? Or perhaps a glint against a blade. I watched a little longer, hoping my eyes or the fog had tricked me. Again it came, this time two rapid flashes.
Time to check it out.

Retracing my steps, I joined the main street until it branched off the side street that led to the fields. I kept my sandals as quiet as I could, hurrying along. If more ronin were around trying to attack, I would stop them. Hogomaru would taste blood again.

I scanned the area for more flashes, eyes running over the fields and down the path for any sign. Nothing. Away from the indigo fields, I started in the direction of a small copse of trees. The stream worked its way out here and fed a patch of oak trees; farmers used the shade for breaks and children came out to play in the water.

The water could, however, mute the sounds of movement. I knew all the tricks.

As I approached quietly, the fog thickened until I could barely see the tree trunks around me. A chill ran down my spine. The water crashed noisily here, more than it usually did. Or was it my imagination? I was only relying on my ears now, every normal sound echoing louder. I had to calm my own breathing to keep it quiet.

Giggling.

The air grew colder.

I drew Hogomaru and reached for a trunk to steady myself. Pressing my back to it, I was ready for anything. Silence. I stopped only to listen for any sound out of place. To the next trunk. I kept my steps slow, keeping to the driest earth. A cloying stench of rotting and burning clung to the heavy fog and I opened my mouth to try and avoid the smell. Instead it coated my throat.

Flash.

Too bright. I jammed my eyes shut. A step back and I slipped sideways. Crunch. A twig snapped under my weight. I steadied myself and took a shaky breath. The forest was just trying to frighten me. I looked down. Beneath my foot lay fingers, pale and almost ghostly.

Flash.

I clamped my mouth shut. This had to be the work of ronin. Bending quick to check the body, I saw no wounds, no blood. His skin wrinkled dry and taut. What?

The air turned icy; my breath billowed out of my nose. It was more than just the cool air from the water. I stood and took another step forward. What if the light was someone hurt? It was too bright to be the warmth of a lantern or fire but…

Another light, and another again. This time behind me, lighting the fog wildly. Fear gripped my insides, I wanted to run. Blue. There was no mistaking it now, the light was blue. I tried to calm my racing heart but I knew.

A dead body. Blue light… the source would be flames no doubt. Onibi. Flames that rose from the dead, luring in new victims. I sheathed Hogomaru, he couldn’t help me here.

I needed to find the stream, follow it back out far from here. Hand out in front, I quickened my steps, hurrying far from the body. The stream echoed from every side, water bubbling and crashing. Branches hung low, pulling at my kimono. And still the blue light flashed behind me, giggles ringing in the air.

A drop. The stream. My sandal splashed in the cool water. I picked a direction, upstream, and followed. Over slick wet rocks, avoiding the water as much as I could. It would lead me back to safety.

I froze as another form unveiled in the fog. Pink yukata, sodden, black hair running along in the water. I knew her, the young daughter of a friend.

“M-Mikumo-san?”

I hardened myself and looked away. She was dead.

Giggling.

Blue fire rose from Mikumo-san’s mud-stained yukata, blooming with renewed power. Splitting into smaller flames, they broke away from the body. I spun, clambering back onto the earth and ran. The fire shot around me quicker. Spinning, dancing. I threw myself though a gap between flames, knees hitting the ground hard. A buzzing, burning sound filled my ears. They would not stop until I was far away. I scrambled to my feet and ran.

I cried out, a force shoving me back down. I crawled, dragged myself. Anything to keep moving.

From my hand burst a blue flame. A gurgling cry escaped my lips and the flames grew brighter. Another darted towards me, burying deep in my throat. Pain seared through my veins. Nerves on fire. More circled me, giggling, blinding.

I don’t want to die.

It was my duty to protect and—

—dip the cloth into the indigo dye again. It would be the last commission of the morning before a break. I needed to take some food to my brother, Takayuki, who was out in the fields. He was late this morning due to a thick fog which had worked its way through the town. Our neighbour had worried about strange noises in the night, but patrols had gone out to check. I hadn’t heard anything myself, however I knew better than to dismiss such claims. I had seen a lot in all my years. Nobody made it to my age without seeing blood, battle, or crazed beasts. As a child I’d even caught a procession of yokai down the very streets I walked even now. A kitsune had called them close; I’d peeped out of a gap in a window late at night to watch.

I hung the last of the dyed cloth up to dry and dried my hands. I had started my life like my siblings, picking the leaves and working the fields, until I started to experiment with the dye we made. Mother had spotted it first, the patterns I made with the white fabric dipping it in the indigo. She’d encouraged me to continue, and started selling the items I made alongside our dye. At first I started with small pieces, making patterned furoshiki cloth for samurai to wrap their belongings in. They soon began to be popular enough that I could also move onto dying obi for the kimono makers. I often wore them myself, showing it off in the town.

Now I dyed whatever was asked of me. We could afford to take slower commissions thanks to the wealth gained over the years. We’d been lucky to live in a town samurai chose to stop in during their travels. Many of them rested their horses and spent days here before moving on again. Every business here boomed and in turn, we’d all profited.

Taking a small basket, I filled it with food for my brother, wrapped in a furoshiki I dyed just for him. He would be leant over the short plants now, muttering about his hands which had curled with overuse. However, he was too stubborn to listen to me, his older sister, and let someone else take over.

I slipped a few coins in for myself and a pot of dye to share, I’d promised myself a slow walk through the town, stopping to look at the wares.

I left my house behind and started down the main street. People had overcome their fear and started working again, merchants wandered, shops opened, and I could hear horses nearing. I stood aside to let the samurai pass, his gaze far from us walking the streets.

The red painted bridge was full of people today, stopping to glance down at the refreshing deep stream below. One of the men who patrolled the town stood frowning.

“I can’t find her anywhere,” one of the women, Hikaru-san, cried. “Do you really think she would run away?”

Another woman patted her arm. “Love makes us do strange things.”

“Mikumo-san,” the guard said. “I am sure we’ll find her soon.
I stepped closer. “Who is missing?”

Hikaru-san hurried to me, taking my hands. “Okina, I haven’t seen her since last night. Has she been to you? I know she was going to buy an obi from you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s not come to see me yet.”

“Perhaps Iga-san has seen her. He patrolled out early this morning. I haven’t seen him yet, though.”

Hikaru-san nodded in defeat. I felt for her. The young made spontaneous decisions at the strangest times. I didn’t dare voice the strange noises that people had heard in the night, no doubt she already connected them.

“I can ask my brother if he’s seen her,” I offered, lifting my basket. “I’m about to bring him some food.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m going to check the shrine again. If she’s not there, maybe the gods can guide me.”

I left Hikaru-san and followed the path onwards from the town and out to the wide open fields. The stream flowed down here too, and a small group of trees grew nearby. Often I’d find Takayuki resting in the shade. Sometimes children would be with him, usually ones he’d tried and failed to employ to help him pick the leaves. He wasn’t as fast as he used to be, and he’d lost his only son years ago to sickness.

The sun was too bright and I had to shield my eyes to try and spot him in the green field, but he wasn’t there. I’d check the trees first, and leave the furoshiki there if he was not. I was too old to be wandering up and down the fields in search of my younger brother. When I found him, I’d scold him again. He’d apologise, begging for forgiveness, and I’d roll my eyes and forgive him. Tomorrow he’d do exactly the same, disappearing off where I can’t find him. As was our way. I’d stopped being angry with him long ago, but enjoyed our routine now.

I frowned as I crossed the path, closer to the shady oak trees. The last of the fog hadn’t lifted after all, some still wrapped itself around the dark trunks, masking the trees and stream beyond from view.

“Takayuki?” I called, not expecting an answer. Nobody would choose to be in that.

The whole area was eerie, even the birds stopped their happy songs. Looking at it sent shivers down my spine. Reaching for a low branch of an outer tree, I slipped the handle of the furoshiki over the end; it hung graciously on the sturdy branch. Takayuki would see it up there as soon as he paused for a break, I always left it here for him.

“Takayuki?” I tried a second time.

The air returned a whispering giggle, but not that of my brother. A sudden chill surrounded me, sinking deep into my skin. Even covered in my yukata, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing tall. There was no mistaking the fear that clawed at my belly, the same fear I’d felt as a child, peering out of my window at the procession of grotesque yokai.

Despite knowing I needed to leave, my feet were rooted to the spot. The fog swirled around me, reaching out and urging me closer. Along it brought the tell-tale stench of death.

Flash. The fog bloomed a bright blue.

And I knew. Oh, I certainly knew.

Onibi.

I was sure of it. Demon fire, they called it, born from death itself. And now they were after me.

I bit back a cry. Someone or some thing had to be dead in there. Had my brother been lured into their embrace too? I couldn’t let anyone else fall to them. Eventually they’d fade away without a new body to feed from but…

The fog surrounded me now. I had only one moment to act.

From my basket I pulled the pot of dye and let the rest drop. I forced my legs to move back until the dirt path lay under my geta and opened the pot. Dye dripped and splashed in quick movements, spreading out as wide as I could.

おにび

Onibi.

Snappy winds blew against me, but it was too late. The dye soaked deep into the brown earth, the word clear to see.

Giggling. They were closer now. I glanced to the dye pot in my hand. Within it sat fire, dyed blue with indigo. It rose higher, dripping dye. I screamed and threw it all onto the grass. An iciness spread in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

But I wasn’t done, not yet.

I ran. Panting, gasping for any air. My legs felt numb, so numb. I wasn’t sure how I was still standing. I just knew I had to.

The air bubbled and giggled in my ears. And still my feet carried on. The indigo field was close now. Far enough away from town, from the other fields.

I would stop them killing again.

Exhaustion hit. Pain lanced my chest. Dirt filled my vision as I fell. Indigo plants surrounded me, I couldn’t see the onibi yet but I didn’t need to. They would find me.

I hoped I was far enough away.

I hoped Takayuki was alive.

I hoped it would be quick and—

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

The land below looked so small from here in the heavens; mountains, rivers, trees, all smaller than the length of my fingers. All the seas and oceans I could fit into my sake cup. And the people, I could fit hundreds of them in my palm. My sister, the sun goddess, had promised me that all I saw was a glimpse from up here, and to see the true beauty I needed to go down and look. I wanted to, I really did, but up here was safe.

Up here other gods could intervene if something went wrong. When.

Then Amaterasu promised me nothing would go wrong, but a turbulent feeling sat in my stomach gaining intensity each day. The third promise my sister made to me was that our brother, the moon god Tsukuyomi, was a coward and should he be seen again, she’d banish him away. And, of course, that made me more curious what happened between them.

I knew little of my brother who only slipped out of hiding when Amaterasu rested. Sometimes I felt his pull as I moved the great waters below, and together we created a rhythm on the beaches. The water pulled up high, and then returned out to the depths, and then back again. Like a deep sigh over the world.

A real one escaped my lips. As much as I loved my sister, and all my siblings, Amaterasu could be difficult and was easy to anger. Her fight with our brother happened long before I arrived and she wouldn’t speak of him further than his existence. In frustration, I’d gone to our mother to ask questions and she whispered: Susanoo, my son, go down to lands below and search for him and ask. I won’t risk Amaterasu’s anger, she’ll hide away again.

At first I thought it another attempt to encourage me to go see the lands; she’d done that before pointing out paddies of rice now full of water and telling me to see how my water helped keep them alive. I’d even started the journey, and stopped halfway through the descent. My chest tightened, a wave of anger and fury washed over me, drowning me until I lost control. I watched helplessly as rain fell, the light drizzle turning to heavy drops. Somehow I’d woken up in my soft futon, unsure how I’d even made it back. And since then, I’d never left the heavens, even for a moment.

One day, I keep telling myself, over and over. I would be ready, one day. And then on that day, the humans would not be able to fit into the palm of my hand, and I would know all the mysteries that I wondered as I watched them. Why did they spend so much time laying down at night? What food did they consume? I wanted to learn, truly. I was just afraid of hurting them again. And I couldn’t show them that. What god is afraid, really.

One with many secrets to hide. How much longer can you keep me a secret, Susanoo? I am mighty and strong and you, you are weak. You cannot calm me or keep me locked away in your chest. A soul should be free, and one day I will be free of you.

I reached to my head and cradled my forehead in a hand. I am weak, it was right. When no-one was around I now heard whispers, a voice calling tinged with the anger I’d felt before. I knew I should tell Amaterasu or even my mother and father, but I didn’t — couldn’t — admit that the pacifying rites had possibly failed. Who fails the rites? I’d never heard of another god doing so.

When I had been created, my wild soul — the Ara-Mitama — had been in control. All gods started with theirs fierce and violent, until calmed. Without it, a god couldn’t function fully, only destroy. With Amaterasu’s help we’d worked through rite after rite to calm mine; days passed of dousing my body in flame and water, ending in deep meditation, until I truly awoke. My eyes had opened and all that remained of my soul was the tranquil side — the Nigi-Mitama. To finish, we’d continued pacifying and worshipping the Nigi-Mitama, until Amaterasu said it was complete, that full control was mine and I was ready to see the world. But deep in my heart something felt wrong, a stirring barely noticeable. And now…

Now you can’t pretend I am not here. Because here I am, Susanoo.

Guilt tugged at my insides, chewing and churning. I would deal with my Ara-Mitama myself. Somehow. For now, I opted with ignoring the voice, pushing it away with meditation. I would beat it into submission if that didn’t work, fighting it with my every being until only quietness reigned in my mind.

There is only the Nigi-Mitama.

Of course there is.

Night began to fall down on the human world; my sister’s glow waned and instead my brother would take her place. Tonight the moon would curl into a thin crescent, like a blade pinned to the blanket of the sky.

Tsukuyomi. What if he knew other rites? Perhaps he could quell the Ara-Mitama, or at least go through them again. I could ask him at least, surely? I didn’t want to risk asking Amaterasu. She’d glowed with pride and love when we had finished the rites. Would she be angry with me if she knew it hadn’t worked? Would she banish me too? Her temper bursting free… I could imagine it now, her standing beautiful, long black hair coiled up and fastened with golden hairpins, and a face of fury. Or would she lock me away, fearful of what my Ara-Mitama could do. Amaterasu would do anything to protect the humans before me. They were defenceless, whereas I… I should be whole.

You should let me free. I could show you your true power. I will one day, you can’t push me away forever.

Amaterasu would have entered the heavens now, the inky black sky was devoid of her light. She always retreated to the onsen on her return, if I was going to talk to Tsukuyomi, now would be my best chance.

I stood from my viewing window and paced the room. The tatami mats beneath my feet stole any sound until I brushed against the edge of the golden byobu screen, knocking it over with a loud crash. My nerves really were getting the better of me. I slowly stood the screen up and looked at the pattern; upon the gold backing lay a river painted in the deepest blue. Above it crossed a sakura in full bloom, the delicate pink petals barely clinging on to the branches. My mother, Izanagi, had gifted it to me in attempt to persuade me to go down to Yamato and look at real sakura. One day, I planned to take a real branch and gift it to her.

The sooner I sort this mess, the sooner I can do it.

I would search out Tsukuyomi.

There was no harm in asking some questions, at least. I wouldn’t tell him of my predicament, I would never admit to anyone my failings, however perhaps I could make him let slip advice that would save me.

First though, I needed to be presentable for a first meeting. I’d been sat watching the world in a simple blue kimono, one that reminded me of the seas. I summoned fresh clothing, a kimono the colour of the deep seas covered in silver embroidery; curved lines echoed the crashing waves and thick sea foam. Finally, I slipped a haori over my kimono; the thinner jacket coloured the bright blue of a calm ocean.

Admittedly, I was a little nervous. What would my brother be like? My mother spoke briefly of his beauty and cruelty; she missed his presence dearly. Would he listen to my words or cast me away? I would also need to find somewhere to meet him, knowing he’d come nowhere near the heavens. Did he live all the way out there on the moon? I wasn’t sure.

I looked down at Yamato. If I was truly doing this, I had to go down there. A brief appearance just to call Tsukuyomi, nothing more. And if the Ara-Mitama tried to take over again, I’d come back. The humans were curled up asleep in their tiny houses so the risk of hurting them was small. The rain would only help the crops and become a blessing.

Steeling myself, I left my room and walked down the hallway to the door. Just like the castles below, the heavens were made up of castles and gardens filled with wide sparkling ponds. I thought it was enough to stay up here, but the perfect beauty of our creations was nothing compared to the imperfect humans. My mother had started smashing bowls and fixing them after seeing the humans doing the same.

I continued out of the door and out onto a well worn road. All I had to do was follow it to the edge and I was free. It was easy, gods did it all the time. It was only me struggling.

The path ended too soon and my sandals brushed the edge of the heavens. I was in control, this was my choice, and I wouldn’t be long at all. I had to keep reminding myself to stop the fear of last time paralysing me.

One more step and I was free, I’d done it, I’d finally left the heavens. Now to descend to Yamato and seek out Tsukuyomi.

Grey clouds covered the sky, I could feel the water building up ready to rain. One little push and I could send it forth right now, as easy as breathing. I pushed down through the clouds, catching my breath as the ocean unveiled. In the thread of moonlight, the calm waters glittered, only the waves broke the illusion near the coast. As I approached I could hear them, crashing and sighing, crashing and sighing. The lulling sound pulled at my Nigi-Mitama, and all I could feel was calmness. The pull increased as I landed on the beach; my feet crunched on the damp sand and I sunk into the softness, filling my sandals.

I was in control, my Nigi-Mitama was appeased. Everything was fine.

How had I never come down to see this?

I wanted to run my hands through it, touching the beauty that I reigned over. Now that I was down here getting closer, I felt like I’d never seen something so wondrous before. I knew the waters ran deeper and deeper into inky blackness filled with many creatures, from great whales and gigantic squid to tough round turtles.

The air was silent, no wind or birds called out into the sky, only the water continuing its sighing song.

Slipping off my sandals, I walked out ankle deep into the cold water, letting it soak into the hems of my kimono. The fabric clung to my skin, embracing me with a chilled wetness.

When Amaterasu had explained to me our parents wishes, for me to take care of the seas, I thought the far view was all I needed. To push and pull the water with my fingers all at once. Never would I have imagined that down here I could touch the water, feeling the movements, the soft embrace.

You can feel the power deeper here. You shouldn’t have waited this long to visit. You could have known sooner. These small waves are nothing compared to what I can do. What we can do. Waves can grow larger, crash harder, wash away all the evil trying to take root in the country. I’ve seen them through your eyes. Humans that do as they wish, ignoring the advice bestowed by the gods. Do you think they all listen to you? The weak god who hides up in the heavens? They haven’t seen your true might, the reason why not to anger the god of the sea.

I stepped out further into the water, half of my own volition, until it sat around my hips like a cosy blanket.

Or passionate lover. It feels good, doesn’t it?

It did feel good, I had to admit to myself. I wouldn’t voice it to my Ara-Mitama but I felt like she already knew.

Oh, Susanoo, of course I know. You can’t hide anything from me. I know you better than yourself, I was there when we were born. I am the true form.

Come, let’s be strong again. You want to be strong, don’t you?

Around me the water swelled and pulsed, dragging away from the shore with a hiss.

Susanoo?

I knew I shouldn’t stay, that I should return the to the heavens, but the allure of the water pulled me in deep, drowning my senses until all I felt was the cold water surrounding me. We were one.

Waves slapped the earth harder now, rolling up onto the beaches and spraying up grass topped cliffs. Stone crumbled down, powerless to resist the water, to resist me.

We are the most powerful.

Something loosened deep inside, a long aching power bubbling up to the surface.

I have the power to do this, to break the land to my will. The soft rivers of water may flood and fill the lands with life but out here I could take it away with ease.

Water can roll down the beaches, deeper in land, washing away anything that tries to stop you. Homes can be toppled, shrines broken, and all will know the ferocity of Susanoo. Nobody will call you weak then.

I am not weak.

Inside my chest the crumbling walls fell with mirthful laughter. The Ara-Mitama had control. It was time to destroy.

I am Susanoo, god of the seas, god of the raging storms that will snuff the life of every fisherman daring to steal from me. And all will know my name.

The grey clouds thickened, muting the skies; wind followed after, stirring the ocean further, agitating the energy inside it.

“You will never forget my name,” I called out over the waves. “Susanoo.”

From the darkest depths came a deep rumble, waking even the oldest swathes of sea.

“See how the earth even listens to me!”

The crashing waves pulled back now, further and further and further still. I stood on bare sand, soaking, laughing. It wouldn’t be long now, the swollen sea birthing a new name for their lips.

Susanoo. Susanoo. Susanoo.

It was time. One simple thought and onwards the water began marching towards the coast, increasing its pace the closer it got. It submerged me with its cold power; I revelled in the energy surrounding me, fuelling my strength and desire.

Pushing upwards, I raised myself out of the deep waters so I could see the devastation. High waves rushed the shore, breaking anything standing in its way. Never stopping. I would topple the forests, drown the rivers and lakes in seawater, and reduce mountains to gravel. There was only one victor in this battle.

But this wasn’t enough, no, this was only the beginning. Around me the grey clouds loosened their hold on the cold rain, dropping it hard and fast. Winds picked up, whipping and snapping the air back and forth.

Somewhere I could hear screams, muffled only a second later.

Listen to them, crying out. Fearing you, fearing us. Soon they won’t leave their houses out of fear, pleading to us for help. And we shall help, we will send them lashings of wind and rain until they drown. Their lands will become mud and sticks and even Izanami and Izanagi won’t be able to help them. Such a strong son they birthed. You just needed my help to find it.

I followed the sounds, curious to see what our power had achieved. I travelled back through the air, heading inland. Muddied water ran across the remains of fields; ripped trees lay bare, their roots fanned in the wind. Destruction wrought the lands, nothing could stop the sea, nothing could stop me.

A call. A scream for help.

I turned to its source, a woman clinging onto a broken fence jammed between two trees which held to the land with all their might.

“Help me,” she cried, scrambling to stay afloat.

I stared at her, fingers digging, clawing onto anything for safety. The cold water sapped her energy. She would not last long at all.

She should know our name. Beg us for life.

“Please, whoever you are, save me.”

I paused. She saw me even from here? I moved closer, watching carefully. Black long hair stuck fast to bared skin, her kimono long gone and ripped from her body. Fear pooled in her wild eyes, begging for rescue.

I did this.

We did this.

Silence. Her exhausted body unable to hold on any longer. She slipped under the fierce currents in the blink of an eye.

Another feeling clawed inside of me, chewing me up and sending shudders up my spine. I couldn’t watch any longer. Diving into the turbulent water, I sensed for the last drop of life being pushed and pulled around. Nothing. She was out of my reach, out of my control.

No! I am god of the seas! Water, send her body to me.

The currents changed, swirled back and forth, receding until I stood ankle deep in mud, and a body floated on the remainder of water. I waded through the thick mud until I stood before her, hoping it wasn’t too late, but her breath was still and her lips were blue like a blooming chrysanthemum.

I did this.

We did this.

I scooped her lifeless body into my arms and pushed away from the land until we flew through the sky. Further and further, I scanned for land where the water did not touch. Drowned fields filled the landscape, broken houses, submerged shrines. I’d done everything we’d hoped to achieve but… it did not feel right.

Nearby, a small mountain climbed out of the water, defying my power, but providing the safety I needed. Darkness shrouded us from view as we travelled and lowered into the sparse landscape below. I stopped us on a grassy ridge overlooking the lands, placing her down gently. But she didn’t awaken. I removed my blue haori and wrapped it around her naked body.

“You can awaken now, you are safe.”

Silence.

Your naivety knows no bounds, stupid Susanoo. She won’t awaken, never again.

She’s dead? But…

What did you expect? You are just like a kappa! You drowned them all! How many villages just lost their lives because of you?

Me? But…

It wasn’t my power that stole their breath.

Pain lanced my chest. My Ara-Mitama clawed at anything she could, eager for a final escape, to silence my Nigi-Mitama and control me completely. She had tricked me!

“No more death.” I growled. “No more water. Recede back to the oceans, be still and calm once more.”

I needed to fix everything. What would my brother say if he saw? Had he already seen the destruction? Would he even help me if I asked for his help?

Taking the hand of the dead lady, I sent forth my energy, trying all I could to revive her. I wasn’t sure if my abilities would work like this, but, I had to try. Anything to bring her back to life. I couldn’t save them all but maybe I could save her. After a few moments warmth flooded her body once more, and her tired muscles continued to work. A sigh, a cough, and she rolled over, spitting up dirty sea water.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” I asked, ready to try and heal again.

Her eyes widened, registering her state of undress and my presence, and she pulled the haori tighter around her body.

“Where am I?”

“Away from all the water, you are safe now.”

Laying back down on the grass, she curled up; I could sense exhaustion from her small body.

You should make her beg for saving her!

“Thank you,” she said feebly. “But what of my family? Did you rescue any others?”

“No,” I said quietly. “Just you.”

“Only me?” She let out an anguished cry and buried her face in her hands. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You’ve learnt the power of Susanoo now. You should be thankful.

I frowned.

They won’t defy us now. A laugh erupted from my Ara-Mitama and I tried to ignore it.

“Nothing,” I said, hollow. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Guilt pulled at the fibres of my heart. What had I done?

I stood up. “I should go and look for others.”

“And leave me alone?” The woman scrambled over, hands grabbing at my legs. “Don’t leave me alone in this dark place.”

I couldn’t stay here, I had to go do something to help. To make up for all I’d done.

I looked to the skies, to where the moon hung brightly. “Tsukuyomi,” I called. “Hear me. Please.”

“You call for the gods? They sent this, why would they help?” The woman held on tighter, the haori slipping back open. “I prayed for help and even more water came.”

Soft moonlight spilt over the grass in front of me and grew brighter, wider. I turned to see a pair of red sandals setting down gently. He was clothed in a black kimono and silver obi, simple but beautiful. The woman’s eyes widened and she bowed immediately.

“Susanoo.”

His voice held a presence I’d not heard since my father’s voice. I flinched, unable to look at him any longer. He had to know what I’d done.

“You should have called me earlier, before all this,” he said sternly.

“I know,” I admitted. “There are many things I wish to speak to you about. But this woman doesn’t want to be alone. I rescued her, brought her back to life, and I cannot stay here while others need my help.”

Tsukuyomi knelt down in the grass and lightly touched her head. A red kimono bloomed upon her skin, covering her bare skin in finery.

She gasped, marvelling the fine material. “What? I cannot accept this — ”

“A blessing,” Tsukuyomi said. “A beautiful woman such as yourself should only wear the best in my moonlight.”

“Thank you, thank you,” she cried, bowing once again.

I bowed my head to my brother. “Thank you… brother.”

Black eyes stared into me, past my own, deep into where my Ara-Mitama lay, angry and howling for an escape.

“You are incomplete, brother,” he said, voice betrayed a sliver of anger. “Leave this place and pacify your Ara-Mitama. No more should suffer because of you.”

I stared at the ground, admonished. I nodded. “But what of — ”

“I will do what I can. Amaterasu will dry the lands with her light.”
 “She will be angry…”

“As she should,” Tsukuyomi hissed. “Now go.”

The guilt pulled deep within me. How many had died this night because of me? I didn’t want to face my sister either, when she awoke to light up the world.

Leaving them both behind, I hurried away, running down the mountainside. Maybe the gods couldn’t see me if I stayed on the ground. Branches clawed at my kimono and pulled at my hair until both hung loose, flapping in the wind. I kept running further through muddy fields and waterlogged roads until my feet sunk deep into sand. The seawater was returning to the ocean now, receding further and further as I had told it. I stared into the dark waters. There was one place I could go, where my brother and sister couldn’t see, where the humans wouldn’t notice my absence, and I could take my Ara-Mitama away from them all. The Dragon Palace. Down in the murky depths lay the radiant palace made of rainbow shells, graced by the beautiful Oto-hime. I would ask her for permission to stay, and not return to the surface until I was whole again.

I wasn’t quite sure where the palace lay in the seas, as I’d never been before, but I could feel its presence. I would keep looking until I found it. I owed it to everyone. And then when I returned I would bless all those who needed it; I’d bring fish for feasts and rain for crops, the villages would be rebuilt by my own hands. My heart would stop breaking for the pain I caused.

You think you can get rid of me, Susanoo? Destruction is in your nature, I just make you stronger. You can try every rite the gods know, and I will stay right here.

Ignoring her, I stepped deeper into the cold waters and let it pull me down and down until even Tsukuyomi’s moonlight couldn’t touch me any more.

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

She was getting sicker. At first it was forgetting simple things like my name, and she’d just say it was tiredness. Then she couldn’t stand for long and spent most of her day sat at the window watching the birds. Even the priest moved more than her, and he was old.

The bright morning light woke me early and I had planned on getting up to join my parents in the kitchen, until my father spoke.

“Put the bowl down, I will call for help. The neighbour can prepare breakfast for you and Hirotoshi.”

“And what sort of wife would I be if I couldn’t take care of the family? I am fine, I just got too close to the fire and got dizzy.”

“No you’re not.” My father lowered his voice further, but even from the bedroom I could hear the low rumble. “You are getting weaker. Hirotoshi needs to be learning in the forge with me, not staying here — ”

“He doesn’t stay here, he forages. Without him we wouldn’t be able to eat.”

I winced, keeping my eyes firmly shut. Did my father not understand how important it was to give Inari peaches? The priest had assured me it was the deity’s favourite food. And one day Inari would save us, healing my mother, I was sure of it.

“Will you please sit down? Hirotoshi will awaken soon, he can’t see you like this.” My father’s heavy footsteps approached the bedroom doorway. “Hirotoshi? Time to get up.”

I pretended to wake, letting out the biggest yawn. “Father, did I sleep too much?”

“No, it’s only just dawn. You are coming with me to the forge today.”

“But what about the peaches?”

“Later.”

I nodded. I couldn’t disobey my father. Instead, I’d work twice as hard so there was time to collect peaches before sunset.

Rising from my sleeping mat, I quickly dressed into my blue yukata. The light material would keep me cool enough as I helped out in the forge. I wasn’t allowed to touch the hot metal yet, instead I hammered alongside my father. Together we worked on many tools like spades and sickles, and when my arms couldn’t hold the hammer and longer, I’d work the bellows and keep the fire burning hot. Just like my father and grandfather and those before them, I’d become a blacksmith. And then we’d have money again. Our house was a luxury some couldn’t afford, we had a separate bedroom. Before I was born my family was richer, the forge burned bright and hot every day, and my father even had help. Many tools and sharp arrowheads were commissioned or sold in the markets. However the supply of iron had become more expensive and trips weren’t taken as often. Once I was older, I promised I would go for him.

“Ohayo,” I said to my parents as I walked into the main room.

“Ohayo,” my mother greeted back. She knelt by the window, tucking her hands in her lap, a bandage covered one, the cloth spilling out on the worn tatami mat. “Good luck in the forge today.”

Would she be safe alone? “Thank you, I am going to the shrine later. Shall I take the last two peaches?”

“Take one for yourself, I am sure Inari can spare a peach so my son won’t go hungry this morning.”

I moved to the woven bowl we kept in the kitchen and plucked out two peaches. A few days old now, the skin had started to wrinkle but I knew Inari would still enjoy them. One for her, one for her foxes. I didn’t need one.

“I’ll take the basket with me today, once I have finished in the forge I’ll find us something fresh to eat for later.”

“You’re a good son,” she replied, eyes crinkling in the corners.

My father sat beside her, watching every move. His lips were tight and thin, keeping back anger I knew brewed inside him. Avoiding his gaze, I hurried to slip the basket on my shoulders ready for later.

“Shall we leave now?” Without a word, he rose to his feet and walked to the doorway. “Goodbye!” I called before following.

The rest of the village still slept as we made our way to the forge. The silence pricked at my skin. All I wanted to do was apologise to try and make him happy again. But I can help him and Inari, there is lots of time. I would show him.

As soon as we arrived I hopped to work, first I relit the fire, kindling the warm glow of flames before feeding it with air from the bellows. My father inspected the work from yesterday, checking the edges and strength of the metal in the daylight. He nodded, his tied hair bobbing with the movement. The quenching had been successful.

I quickly lost myself in my tasks, listening to each command and obeying. Today the metal was struck harder, truer, anything to take our minds off my mother. Instead, my thoughts drifted to Inari. Our shrine for her was small, but I made it up to her with all my offerings.

In the beginning we’d go together during a break for food. We’d leave the heat of the forge to speak to Inari, offering cups of sake and berries I’d found out in the forest. Foxes loved berries, and she was a deity to them and kitsune. She also protected blacksmiths, and in turn, our family. That’s what my mother told me. Sometimes I wasn’t sure.

The sun rose higher and started to fall again. The heat of the summer stuck to our sweaty skin and all I wanted to do was wash.

“That’s enough for today,” my father said, looking over our work.

I looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“I need to work on arrowheads now, I can do that alone. You wanted to go foraging, right?”

“Yes.” I put down the heavy hammer next to the forge. “Is there time?”

“If you go quickly now.”

I grinned at him and retrieved the basket I used for carrying what I found. “I’m going to go to the orchard for the peaches.” I bowed to him. “Thank you, I’ll see you later.”

I missed his response as I span around and ran off, the woven basket bouncing against my back. I needed all the time I could get to collect my prize. The peach trees stooped lower than the pines and chestnuts but they remained just out of my reach. It wasn’t long before I left the village behind and travelled deeper into the forest. My mother told me that many years before even her mother was born, the villagers had found a secret orchard in the forest. Each year they encouraged it to grow larger and give the juiciest fruit and now we had a bounty to pick from.

Before she got too tired, she’d follow me to the orchard, showing me which ones to pick, reaching for the ones I couldn’t get, and showing me which ones to leave behind for the other animals in the forest. That was important. Last winter she’d fallen and spent days laying down exhausted struggling to remember things. Since then I had prayed extra hard to Inari for her to get better and visited the orchard alone, so she could rest.

Many people before me had wandered through the forest, leaving a worn path all the way to the orchard. I followed it with ease while looking around at the trees. Birds were happily singing; a robin flew from one tree to another, dipping under thick branches. I paused. On the ground a fairy pitta bashed an earthworm against a pebble, ready to feed it’s young. One look at me, and it flew off quick; it’s shining blue and black feathers catching the light. They didn’t show themselves often; I smiled, maybe today was a lucky day.

A little further and finally the orchard came into view; three rows of dark trunks with wildly growing branches, and on each, round pink peaches. I smiled, it was time to get to work.

It felt like I’d just started picking, but my basket was soon filling. Just one more peach and I’d go home. I really would this time.

Although… I could see three more ripe enough to pick… but the sun was setting and I still had to make my way back. A few more would be fine, right? Mother would enjoy the peaches and this way I could share more between her and Inari. The few extra minutes would be worth it, especially when they were ripening fast. I didn’t want to lose them to the forest animals; these were for me. Anyway, I’d made sure to throw the rotting ones on the ground. The animals wouldn’t go hungry.

In the evening glow, the pink fruit burned red and orange; I continued grabbing them with delicate hunger. Standing up on the very tips of my toes, I wobbled around and grabbed the tree branch for support so I could reach high. I couldn’t wait until next year’s harvest; I would be much taller then, and the peaches at the top wouldn’t be out of my grasp.

Two more peaches fell away with ease, I yelped as one slipped from my grasp and landed in the grass with a soft plop. Placing one in the basket, I went back for the fallen peach snug between the long blades.

Drip. Drop.
 Raindrops pattered down from the sky, bouncing off the leaves. Overhead clouds had rolled in without me noticing, and started to cover the remaining sun. I bit back a curse as I realised the trip back would be harder with even less light. I’d need to be faster than ever before.

And then came the deep rumble I always dreaded to hear. The thunder god Raijin was somewhere in the skies, banging his taiko with large hammers. Would he come for me? Raijin liked to eat children the most. 
 Fear gripped my insides. Time to run. I wasn’t staying around to find out.

Shoving the last peach into the basket, I slipped the handles over my shoulders and nestled it on my back. The path home was simple enough, all I had to do was make it out of the forest and into the village clearing. I just needed to stay on the worn path, now muddying in the falling rain. Returning my sandals to my feet, I left the safety of the peach trees to return home.

Drop. Drop.

Rain fell heavier now, the skies opening up further and aiming just for me. My thin yukata clung to my skin, and each step became more difficult as the fabric held me back. Was Raijin angry with me? Had I taken too many peaches or was he playing? No wind whipped in the forest and my fear deepened. If Fuujin wasn’t with him sending strong winds then —

The sky flashed bright, blinding me. I buried my face against the back of my hand and I started to run.

No, no, no. Go away.

The low rumble returned, growling louder and closer. And still no wind.

Everybody knew who rode alongside the lightning, Raijin’s favourite pet. Everybody feared the thunderous cries and destruction it brought.

I skidded to a stop and looked to the sky. Rain fell in my eyes and I blinked it away quickly, but I had to see. Every thunderstorm my mother told me to run inside. I’d never had a chance to see it before. Another flash and a bolt streaked the sky followed by the outline of fast moving legs. My stomach tightened. I knew what that was.

Raijuu.

The great white wolf sped through the sky, wrapped in blue lightning. Long claws bit into the clouds and propelled it faster until all was a blur. The air around me crackled. I ran; I didn’t even stop as a sandal slipped from my foot or as stones pricked my bare sole. I needed to escape.

Rain struck the dirt path like a barrage of arrows. The sky was a lit forge hammering swords of lightning. I was trapped between them running through the never-ending forest. The raijuu wasn’t far behind; I could hear its rumbling laughter around me.

My fingers held tight to the basket straps as I continued, eyes focused on the path. I just had to make it a little further, around two more bends, and then I’d be on the outskirts of the village.

Crack! Boom!

Bright whiteness filled my vision. A scream escaped me. Something crashed into my head and I fell on my hands and knees. Panting, I grabbed my head and winced. Splintered wood scattered the ground and glancing up I saw a pillar of fire engulfing a tree… or the remains of a tree. The raijuu had snapped it in one bite.

“Mother,” I cried, “I-I’m scared. Mother, I need you. I-I’m s-sorry I s-stayed out too long. I won’t do it again. I p-promise.”

The raijuu continued to laugh, the rumbles muting my cries. It danced around running on air, happy to strike fear in everything. Even the other gods feared the ferocity of Raijin’s raijuu.

Why couldn’t it leave me alone?

Wiping my tears on the back of my soaked yukata sleeve, I carefully stood back up. My hands were grazed, my feet bloody, and rain stung every open wound. But I couldn’t stay here. Not unless I wanted to die.

I made my way around the chunks of wood; nobody could withstand the raijuu’s power. As I ran, I continued to scan the skies. It had nearly hit me once, would it catch me this time? I thought back to the tree… was that all that would be left of me? Would my mother come to the forest to find a pile of broken bones? I shuddered.

A large pine came into view, one I knew well. Nearly home. As I ran closer I could see it battled the rain well, the needles catching each drop. Surprisingly, a man rested under it, safe from the downpour. He wore a blue-black kimono and held a sword in his hand.

“Samurai-sama,” I called. “A raijuu is coming.”

Could he hear me? He was looking up but could he see from under the tree?

“Samu — ”

Crack!

I froze, screamed, and shut my eyes, flinching from the deafening noise. Was he dead? Were his bones scattered? I was too scared to look. Samurai-sama… Tears came again and I scrunched my eyes tighter. Above, the rain continued to fall. It was all I could hear aside from my heavy sobs.

Wait.

Where was the rumbling?

Cautious, I opened one eye just a fraction. The pine tree still stood.

What?

Smoke flooded under the tree. The samurai emerged victorious from it, sword in hand. I gasped. There at his feet was a dead raijuu. The white wolf splayed out, unmoving. Just like it, I was rooted to the spot. I barely even noticed that the rain was stopping.

The samurai walked closer, his own kimono now soaking up the last of the rain. “Are you hurt? There is no need to be scared now.”

As he approached, I collapsed in exhaustion. I wasn’t sure how to feel or what to think. And my feet really hurt. I tried to hold back more tears as the samurai slipped the basket from my back before scooping me up into his arms with ease.

“Samurai-sama, did you kill the raijuu?”

He didn’t speak until he returned to under the shelter of the pine. Branches and cones now covered the ground with needles, but it still held strong. “I did.”

“I didn’t know raijuu could be killed.” I furiously tried wiping away tears again, hoping the samurai didn’t see. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Every living thing can be killed, by sword or by time,” he said, gently sitting me down with my back to the sturdy trunk. “Although, even I wasn’t sure a raijuu could be struck down by a sword. But I had no choice but to strike the raijuu or be struck by it.”

The samurai retrieved the basket and peered inside. 

“Oh no, are they all smashed now?”

He shook his head. “I think a few are whole. May I have one?”

I nodded and studied the samurai; he was younger than I expected, all the samurai I had seen before had greying hair and many scars. I frowned at the unfamiliar flower crest on his dark kimono, and even deeper at the gold at his sleeves. Red string tied his hair back tight. Who was this samurai? He must be someone special…

Kneeling, he inspected my bare feet, pulling out a length of cloth from his kimono. “Where are your sandals?” Gently, he started wrapping each foot and tying it tight. “It’s not too bad, feet bleed a lot and so wounds appear scarier than they truly are.”

“I lost them running away. I couldn’t stop.”

“You’re safe now.” He smiled. “Let me introduce myself, my name is Akitsura Betsugi. I am a wandering samurai enjoying the forest… or was, until the storm started. And who are you?”

“Hirotoshi Aoi.” I pointed in the rough direction towards my house. “I live in the village just outside of the forest.”

Betsugi-sama finished wrapping my feet and reached for a peach before sitting down beside me. As he took a bite I looked to his sword laying unbroken on the needles.

“Betsugi-sama, what of your sword, the great raijuu killer? Is it something special to survive unbroken?”

“Hmm? Oh, my sword is very sturdy and reliable, forged by a great blacksmith. It’s called Chidori; its name means a thousand birds. I suppose it needs a new name now.” He hummed and reached for the weapon, checking down the length. “How about Raikiri, lightning cutter? A much more suitable name.”

“I like it! Raikiri, the slayer of raijuu.”

I watched as Betsugi-sama continued to check Raikiri before sheathing it back into a white scabbard. The blade glowed faintly with heat but was still whole. I couldn’t believe we had both survived a raijuu, and it now lay a stone’s throw from us. I was too exhausted to think about it, and in the dying light I couldn’t see much anyway. Tomorrow I would get a better look.

Together we sat in a quiet companionship as the rain slowed into the faintest drizzle. A little light still peeked over the tops of the trees and offered a way back home.

“Aoi-kun, I think it’s time to get you home. It’s too dark to go back for your sandals, but I can guide you back to the village.” Nodding, I tried to climb to my feet and winced as the pain came flooding back. “Stop, let me carry you.”

“A-Are you sure?”

He stopped to slide Raikiri into his obi and then bent down in front of me. “Place the basket on your back and climb on my back.”

I quickly did as he said and held onto his shoulders tight as he stood up. Betsugi-sama’s wet hair stuck to my face and I had to lean to one side to avoid it. Together we started back on the path, heading towards the village. Trees towered around us, looming in the dying light. I worried raijuu slept in them ready to start another attack as we passed below. They could be anywhere and we wouldn’t be able to see them until it was too late.

“You’re safe now, Aoi-kun. The storm has past and Raijin has stopped drumming. There won’t be any raijuu around now. And you did well to escape this one. Perhaps you would have made a good samurai, had you lived in the city.”

I sighed. I loved to see the samurai who passed through our village or paused there to rest. I always volunteered to help them where I could, from feeding their horses to carrying armour for repair. But our little village didn’t need samurai; it needed hands to help with farming and gathering. And so I picked the berries, seeds, and nuts and found the mushrooms. Then when my father told me, I helped in the forge. On special days, if I was lucky, I also aided the priest with offerings to Inari. In return they blessed our village with more to harvest.

“Betsugi-sama, why did you become a samurai?”

“I didn’t choose,” he replied quietly. “I started training at three years old and it’s all I have known. But now I can see much of the country, which I enjoy.”

“I wish I could be a samurai too.”

“But then who would pick the peaches?” he asked gently.

One of the other boys. Or our neighbour Jurou-san with the missing hand. If my father had moved to the city to be with the other blacksmiths things would have been better. Mother would get treated by better people and I would have been able to be a samurai. But we lived in the forest village.

We were silent for the rest of the walk, and I kept looking for the first sign of the village. Our priest had a small house beside the shrine which sat next to the forest path. He had told me he built it there to be closer to the large ash tree. It didn’t take long before I could see it peeking out from between the trees, lit by a small fire.

“The village is close now,” I said, pointing towards the shrine. “There’s the shrine to Inari. I need to fill it with peaches.”

“Then I shall stop here.”

“What? Why?”

Betsugi-sama knelt down and slipped me from his back with care, then turned to face me. “I don’t wish for the praise and celebration that the village will give me. I want to stay hidden here in the forest.”

I pouted. “Will you at least come and meet my mother and father?”

Betsugi-sama shook his head.

“Alright then, I will walk the last bit myself. See you again soon sometime, Betsugi-sama. Thank you for protecting me.”

“Another day, little samurai.”

I stepped carefully, walking towards the shrine. My feet ached, but I was surprised to find the sharp pains had subsided and as I reached the lit fire, I gasped. The cloth wrapping my feet glittered gold. How could he use such expensive cloth on my feet? Who was that samurai?

“Hirotoshi!” A familiar voice cried out from beside the fire.

“Mother!” A second later and I was tight in her arms, warm and safe. “You don’t need to worry, I am here.”

“I always worry about you, my only son. What would I do without you?”

“You would worry less,” I said with a giggle.

“We worried when the storm started,” the priest said appearing beside her.

“I was about to come look for you when Haru-san said you were still in the forest.”

“I was getting peaches when it started to rain. Mother, I saw a raijuu! It chased me but Betsugi-sama killed it. It’s in the forest now, dead under the giant pine.”

“A raijuu?” she cried, holding me tighter and checking me over. “You are very lucky my son. Who is Betsugi-sama? I need to thank him. Where are your sandals? Oh look at your feet.”

“Oh,” I squeaked, not meaning to let his existence slip. “A passing samurai. He left already.”

“That’s a shame, I would have liked to have thanked him. Come, let’s go home. I’m tired and we need to get you dry and check your feet.”

***

The morning brought clear skies, the clouds were nowhere to be seen after the previous storm. I’d woken up extra early, hoping to return to the forest to look at the raijuu before it was burnt. The priest had spoken to the other villagers and ordered the body put to flames to purify the forest; he worried the body would lure other dangerous yokai to us. Shinigami were drawn to the death and could lurk around the body, haunting any of us who visited the forest. I’d never seen the grey human-like figures, but I’d learnt all about them from the priest Shouhei-shinpu. He’d once lived in a village haunted by them, possessing a murderous ronin. I’d stopped listening after that, scared of hearing what he’d done.

I shuddered. How many other people or animals were struck down by the raijuu before it came after me? Would it be my fault if the shinigami cursed us?

I also planned on finding my lost sandals wherever they lay, scattered and soaking. Mother was too worried to let me go on ahead alone, and so I had to wait for my father to join me. She’d seen the gold wrappings Betsugi-sama had used on my feet and insisted I look for him to repay my debts. They’d fought again, my parents, because she wanted to take them to the river to wash away the dirt. All her worrying had tired her out again, that’s what my father said.

Mother had woken before me, she didn’t sleep much any more. I wondered if she slept at all, seeing the dark circles surrounding her darker eyes. I should pray to Inari again this morning. Perhaps she can help me find something to make my mother sleep more.

I sat now on the worn out enza, counting the peaches which were unbruised from yesterday. The grass cushion had flattened after so much use, but I found it comfortable. It also helped me see into the basket where mushed fruit coated the inside.

Smash.

I jumped in surprise and dropped the peach. My mother stood, hands shaking, tears falling. The teapot lay on its side on top of broken cups, spilling hot water over the tatami mat.

“Haru,” my father cried, hurrying to lift the teapot upright.

“I only wanted to make you both tea…”

“It… will be fine, please just — ”

“Those cups were a gift,” she cried. “I… I — ”

I rushed to her side, hugging her tight.

Her tears fell heavier now and my father joined us. Reaching out, he wiped them away before placing a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Hirotoshi,” he said, voice wobbling with worry. “Why don’t you take her to the shrine with you. Some air might help.”

I nodded and took hold of her hand. “We can look for that sparrow on the way. The one with the golden beak that you saw before.

“But the cups…”

“Father will fix them. He is clever like that.”

She calmed down a little then, squeezing my hand back. I led her to the door, helped her put sandals on, and stepped out into the fresh warm air. 
 It was a short walk to the shrine, although each of my mother’s steps were slow and heavy.

“When did you last see the sparrow?” I asked, trying to take her mind away.

“Not for days now.” She paused to catch her breath before taking another step. “I think I scared it off. Oh, H-H — my son. I need to rest.”

“Look mother, Inari’s shrine is right there. We can sit and rest and pray. Inari will be pleased to hear your voice.”

She nodded slightly, her eyelids dropping heavier. I rushed through purifying our hands with water so we could approach the shrine and let go only when we stood in front. I helped her kneel down on the bare dirt and joined her. Seeing my mother like this always hurt and I hoped that if I prayed harder today, maybe Inari would hear. Perhaps we needed to set a small shrine in our house too, so she didn’t have walk out here.

“Oh, I forgot to bring the peaches.” I said worried Inari wouldn’t listen without them. “But I promise to bring them later. Once we have dealt with the raijuu. Please will you and Ukemochi watch over my mother, like you protect my father at the forge. She is here today too, please will you bless her.”

I glanced over to my mother. Her eyes were shut now, head drooping to one side. Had she fallen asleep? I reached out to shake her gently and she fell forwards.

“Mother? Mother?” I caught her and wrapped my arms around hers. “Somebody, please help!”

I scanned around, but nobody was awake yet. Only the two white fox statues watched us with wide eyes.

“Inari, please,” I cried.

“Hirotoshi-kun? Is that you?”

“Yes, please Shouhei-shinpu, my mother…”

The priest hurried to our side, shaking her arm. “Haru-san? Please wake up.”

“I-Is she…”

He placed a finger under her nose. “She’s breathing, Hirotoshi-kun. She’s very tired right now.” I watched as Shouhei-shinpu lifted her up with a strength I didn’t know he had. “I am going to take her back to your home now. She needs to rest and see a doctor.”

“I should — ”

“Stay here. Pray.”

“But I — ”

“Then pray again.”

I cried harder as Shouhei-shinpu walked away with her, limp and almost lifeless. “Inari. Did I do something wrong? Did she? Can I make it better?”

Tears dropped, soaking my yukata.

Why wasn’t Inari answering me?

I sat crying harder until Shouhei-shinpu returned and joined me. “Inari is listening to you,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “She has many foxes which live in this forest and each one sees what’s going on.”

“Then why isn’t she doing anything? Instead it’s getting worse.”

“Inari can’t solve all our issues.”

“But — ”

“Hirotoshi-kun, time to dry your eyes. Your mother is being cared for, all will be well. Masami-san said you are joining the group to help burn the raijuu. He said you hurt your feet, how are they?”

I let out a shaky breath and dried my eyes on my yukata sleeve. “I cut them up a bit but the bandage made them go away.” I sniffed. “I was surprised, but mother says the bandage is special, that Inari blessed me. Did she help me instead of my mother?”

Shouhei-shinpu frowned. “No, Hirotoshi-kun. But if she blessed the bandage for your wounds then she must want you to help with the raijuu. I want you to be careful today. Rest when your feet hurt.”

I nodded and stood up. All that remained was a deep ache, but I wasn’t going to tell him that in case he changed his mind. I needed to see the raijuu again.

The sun had risen further now, and the rest of the village stirred; babies cried for their morning meal, and other villagers left their houses.

“Come,” Shouhei-shinpu said. “My son will be joining us this morning, while my wife stays to pray to Inari. Let’s find him.”

I didn’t say anything as I quietly followed Shouhei-shinpu to the door of his house.

“Yori, are you ready to leave?”

“Yes father,” a voice called back, followed by a boy taller and older than me.

“Ohayo Yori-san,” I greeted him.

“Ohayo, Hirotoshi.”

Together we made our way to the forest. Behind us, others joined the group; the woodcutter hefted a sharp axe and his two sons carried baskets. The fisherman joined last, alone; his only child was a newborn they’d named Aimi.

As we entered the forest, it was hard not to start looking for Betsugi-sama. I wondered if he had truly left or if I’d see him again. I wanted to thank him at least once. The morning grew brighter and the skies a happy blue; heat already lingered and I knew it’d be another humid day.

There was no way to tell a terrible storm had passed through as the trees stood tall and green, but as we kept walking, small signs began to show. Usually hard dirt was still muddy and sticky, leaves littered the forest floor, and as I led the way back to the unfallen pine a sandal came into view.

“It’s close,” I said, scanning the area. “That’s my sandal.”

It didn’t take much longer to reach the great pine tree, standing unharmed. Beside it, a gigantic lump of white and blue fur lay in the dirt.

“There is is, that’s the raijuu Betsugi-sama slayed. Nearby there will be a tree it struck.”

Shouhei-shinpu paused. “Truly? You survived an attack from such a creature?”

He approached carefully, giving it a wide berth and watching its face for any movement. And yet it did not stir.

“It’s just as frightening up close,” I said, staring.

The raijuu resembled a giant wolf, with a gaping slash wound from snout to tail. White fur stained red and brown, blue fur dulled, and on each toe erupted a long black claw. If it had attacked me, I would have been dead in a moment.

“Hirotoshi, I am amazed you are alive,” Yori-san said, watching the creature with admiration and fear.

Shouhei-shinpu addressed the group. “We can’t let this body hang around any longer. Shinigami will be attracted to it, and so we must burn it, and anything it destroyed. The children can clear the smaller pieces of wood and pile them. This will purify the forest and appease the gods.” He turned to me and Yori-san. “Gather what you can, while we decide how to burn the raijuu.”

I nodded and got to work. Leaving the raijuu behind, I searched around for any wood fallen in the storm. I didn’t wander too far, keeping close to the cleared pathway. Yori-san worked alongside me, lifting larger branches and splinters of trunk.

“Quick,” the woodcutter said, taking his axe to a nearby half-broken tree, “we must get rid of this yokai as soon as we can. We do not want to draw the onibi to our village. Try to push down broken trees, I’ll take my axe to the rest.”

I shuddered. I hadn’t ever seen onibi, but I had heard many tales of them appearing from dead bodies, blue orbs that swarmed any living creature nearby for their life.

All together we spent the morning clearing broken trees and digging a pit to safely burn the raijuu. Splinters jabbed and stuck in my skin, and my palms were sore by the time we were done, but we’d worked hard and fast until all that remained was to drag the raijuu’s carcass to the pit and light it. The woodcutter had filled it with dried wood, and when it burned bright we’d add the broken pieces to purify.

Each of us surrounded the raijuu, taking fistfuls of wiry fur and skin. I’d taken a gigantic paw, lifting it with both of my hands and trying to avoid the wickedly long and sharp claws. Dried blood splattered over them, dull and black, each one knife-like; I ran my finger over one in awe.

“Are we all ready? Time to move on three,” Shouhei-shinpu said to us all. “One, two… three.”

I lifted the heavy paw to chest height as the raijuu rose from the ground for the last time.

Shuffling along the dirt and into the pit, we carried it to its final resting place and set it down. The woodcutter took the duty of lighting the wood, he knelt to set it alight as we backed away. The pit had been dug as far from the other trees as we could; no other trees were going to die today. The flames took a while to grow, but soon the raijuu began to burn. And in turn all the bad luck should burn away. I hoped.

Fire licked the wood and grew into a hungry beast lapping at everything it could touch. The raijuu’s fur crackled and fizzled and before long it was too bright to watch. Instead of the sweet smells of the forest, the air was thick with a rancid stench. I took more steps back to try and get away, before sitting down on the grass. My feet hurt and my fingers stung. I wanted to rest before making my way back to the village. And I was scared. Anything could have happened while I was away. But I felt too scared to go back and check.

Some of the villagers had left, needing to do their daily work, while others watched the burning raijuu. I wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing it now — it was all mixed in my heart and I couldn’t help but worry over my mother more.

Shouhei-shinpu had found some berries to eat, and I picked them out of my palm one by one. With my belly fuller and warmth wrapping round me like a blanket, my eyes started to droop. I tried to keep them open, but after the morning of work and the heat, I couldn’t resist the call of sleep. Closing my eyes made all the bad things go away.

“Oh no,” I cried, sitting up quick. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I looked to the pit and everyone was gone. “D-Did they leave me?”

“Calm, little samurai.”

“Ahh!”

Betsugi-sama laughed and patted my shoulder.

“Betsugi-sama? What are you doing here?”

“Watching.”

“Watching?” I rubbed my eyes. “Watching what? We put the raijuu in the pit.”

“Hirotoshi-kun, how are your feet?”

I frowned as he didn’t answer the question but glanced at my feet. Someone had taken off my sandals. “They were sore but I think the pain has gone for now.”

“Good.”

“My mother told me the bandage you used was special, that Inari had blessed us.”

He smiled and stood up. “Keep it with you,” he said, walking towards the raijuu pit. “You’ll need it.”

My frown deepened as he confused me more. Why did adults have to do confusing things?

“Stay there,” he called to me. How did he even know I was going to follow?

I watched as Betsugi-sama jumped down into the pit and gasped. Smoke rose from it and I could hear the fire still crackling away.

“Betsugi-sama, please be careful.”

A few moments later and he clambered back out, kimono unharmed, and smile on his face. He walked back and stopped. “I have something for you?”

I held out a hand and Betsugi-sama placed a sharp claw into it. “What is this?”

“A raijuu claw. I know you were scared, but this will bring you luck. Your father is a blacksmith?” I nodded. “Have him strike the metal into a blade.”

I stared at the claw. It was heavier than I expected, and as I tapped it, it sounded metallic.

“Is — ”

“Yes, a raijuu’s claws are made of metal. So are their teeth. It’s how they can destroy trees so easily. This claw is just for you; the others will burn away.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean? Metal doesn’t burn away?”

He didn’t respond, instead he turned his back to me.

“Betsugi-sama?”

He sighed. “Aoi-kun, I am sorry about your mother.”

What?

“Hirotoshi-kuuun.”

I felt the pull of sleep dragging me away.

“Time to wake up.”

I blinked awake. Yori-san knelt in the grass, shaking my arm. The sun had passed over the trees now and hid behind the trees.

“What do you have there?” he asked, pointing to my hand.

I sat up and unfurled my fingers. There in my hand lay the raijuu claw.

“I…”

“Ah, you’re awake now,” Shouhei-shinpu said. “We are going home. Let’s go and check on your mother.”

My mother!

Gripping onto the claw, I climbed to my feet. “Yes, let’s see her,” I said, sleep still clawing at me.

***

A month. The boy had a month left with his mother before the black illness within her took over. I’d heard his screams in the forest in the early mornings when he thought nobody was listening. I sent my foxes to scream louder. He barely slept now. Black smudges had appeared beneath his eyes which he blamed on working in the forge. And yet, every day he still visited the shrine, praying and offering food. The peaches were overripe now, the hot air breaking the flesh down to mush. My foxes didn’t mind, however, and snapped them up happily, peach juice dripping down their snouts.

Even now he searched the peach trees for the last few of the season, his blackened fingers leaving smudges on the branches. Every break from the forge he took to run back here, to the hidden peach orchard in the forest, just to gather more.

His prayers were different now, voicing peace but secretly wishing his mother back from the grave.

Little samurai, I cannot bring a life back from the dead. Let her rest.

The summer was nearly over now. colder winds travelled down from the north and would soon bring snow.

Drip. Drop.

It was time.

Rain fell at my feet, soaked up instantly by the dry earth. I looked up to the sky and felt the surge of energy nearing. Another storm approached; fiercer than the one before, the last of summer clung to the trees and begged not to be ripped away by the cold winds.

I peered back through the trees at the boy who wouldn’t let go. Would he now?

Rumble-rumble-rumble.

Nearby, Raijin woke raijuu from a deep slumber with his drumming. They stretched their paws wide, ready to run across the skies alongside him. A pair this time, angry siblings wanting to best each other in a race. This time my brother Fuujin joined them all, threading cold winds through the forest.

The little samurai screamed as the first bolt threaded through the sky, darting between thick grey clouds. Fear rooted him to the spot, cowering up against the peach tree with golden leaves. 
 I could not interfere a second time, however. He had to save himself.

“I protect warriors, Aoi-kun. Become a warrior.”

Reaching into my kimono sleeve, I pulled out a grain of rice and flicked it in his direction. It sailed between the trees and tapped his hand, grabbing his attention. The sky darkened further as a deep rumble shook the skies and Hirotoshi slipped out of the tree’s grasp. Taking a stand, he watched with a renewed strength. The same I had seen in him the first day we met.

“I am not afraid of you,” he yelled, hand reaching to his belt. “You will not harm the forest.”

From a black lacquered sheath, he pulled a short blade, no longer than a hand’s length, and dull black. I smiled. They’d hammered the raijuu’s claw into a weapon, and despite it being small, I knew its true strength. It’s why I had given it to him in the first place.

Raijuu danced in the sky, white fur slick with charged rain, watching as the child stood soaking with a blade drawn. One slowed, inquisitive, and jumped down to the forest floor. It approached him slowly, stepping closer and closer I had to hold myself back from going to his aid again. This was a true test and I couldn’t jeopardise it. If he failed now… then he wasn’t the one.

Another low rumble, this time from the raijuu who bared its fearsome teeth at the faint smell of a fallen brother. And yet Hirotoshi didn’t waver. The other one closed in on him, and both circled, ready to strike in a moment. And Hirotoshi stood firm. Crackling lightning filled the orchard, buzzing against branches. And even then Hirotoshi was still.

A deep huff of air rushed out of the raijuu’s nostrils. I could see the fear on the boy’s face, but the blade stayed ready to attack.

Above, Raijin watched the spectacle, drumming along with glee. Fuujin laughed as he sent forth more wind. I scowled at them both, hoping they didn’t interfere.

“Go away,” Hirotoshi yelled at the raijuu, slicing the blade through the air. They backed away, snapping their jaws in frustration before trying again. “Away.”

This time the blade caught flesh. Blood seeped from the nose of the smaller raijuu who whimpered and skittered away.

“Come,” Raijin called, voice booming in the storm.

Large white paws pushed off the wet earth, their claws ripping wide holes as they returned to the skies.

Rumble-rumble-rumble.

Raijuu were strong, but even they wavered with weapons made by their own claws. Unlike most blades, raijuu-forged metal sliced through them with ease. Just like my blade had done.

Even gods feared the ferocity of the raijuu… unless they wielded the right sword.

I smiled. I hadn’t been wrong when I saw into Hirotoshi’s heart.

Turning, I left him knelt in the dirt, blade dropping with a dull thump.

“I’ll be back for you one day, little samurai.”

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a bonus short story which won’t be in my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. This story is a prequel to Beneath Tsukuyomi, just for my readers.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Darkness. Silk pressed against my face; a thick obi wrapped around my head, tied tight. I tried to control my breathing, ignoring the panic clawing at my chest. Listen. All I could hear was my heavy breaths.

The warm air stirred, the slightest movement tickled the hairs on my bare arms. I stepped forward; once, twice. Socks muted my footsteps on the tatami mats. I held my noisy breath. Another eddy of air, this time behind me.

A tantou weighed heavy in my hand, the short blade was my only protection. I held it tighter at my side and fought the desperation to hold it out in front of me. I had to stay calm.

“Do you think you are going to win?” came a breathy whisper in my left ear. Flinching, I stumbled away. “I’ve seen newborn deer more graceful than you.”

I growled in response and steadied myself. I can do better than this.

In my mind I could see the layout of the room; it was long and thin, and in the corner lay a folded up futon. There wasn’t much space to escape.

Breathing. Not mine. I raised the tantou, my arm crossing over my chest. Just in time. Another struck true, but my grip was strong; I would not drop my weapon.

“Better.”

Again I sensed a strike. As I turned to block, a foot slipped between mine, tripping me. Down and down I fell, tantou smacking the tatami and rolling away. I landed awkwardly and tried to grab for it. Too late. On my hands and knees, I was defenceless.

Laughter, and a blade to my throat. A hand pushed my shoulder back until I knelt. How did I miss that? The tip of the tantou lifted my chin high.

“And just like that, you are mine.”

I let out a heavy sigh. I’d failed again.

Eventually the tantou moved from my chin and warm hands pulled the obi free. Bright light spilled back into my eyes and I winced. After a moment, my vision adjusted and I could see my captor; a tall man with fox-like eyes, and a smile to match. Unlike me in my semi state of undress, his grey kimono lay on him perfectly, nothing out of place. Mine pooled around my waist, and as I grabbed it, his hand took hold of my wrist.

“Not yet.”

“But I — ”

“You’re dead. If you want to move, then you need to start winning.” His smile widened. “Although I like it like this.”

“Of course you do, Shinnosuke,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You always like being in control.”

“I need to take my opportunities when they arise.” Shinnosuke’s hands cupped my jaw and his thumbs followed the contours of my cheeks. “You don’t think I get you to practice half-naked just for learning, surely?”

I snorted. “Of course not, though I am surprised you don’t insist on wearing less.”

“I wouldn’t want you getting cold.” He leant down until his face neared mine. “But I can think of ways to warm you up.”

Grabbing fistfuls of his kimono, I pulled him into a kiss, hard and deep. His lips returned the kiss greedily, hungry for more. Instead, I broke away and leant back. Shinnosuke dropped to his knees and chased for another kiss.

“You tease,” he hissed. “Remember who you belong to.”

“We should continue practising. I shouldn’t have — ”

“Hotaka, you always say that.” Shinnosuke placed a hand on my chest. “You’re impulsive, impatient, and quite frankly, an idiot. How many times have I told you to watch your feet. Sometimes I think you like the punishment.”

Fingertips danced on my bare skin, swirling patterns and travelling invisible paths. Slowly they made their way lower, following the shapes of muscles and running over my loosely tied obi.

“I’m trying,” I said, trying not to be distracted by his wandering hand. “I want to be strong enough to serve, like you.”

“You will be, once I am done with you — ”

“ — you’ll never be done with me.”

Smiling, Shinnosuke leant forwards and pressed a kiss to my chest. “Never.”

Deft fingers untied the last of my obi and spread my kimono open, pooling around my thighs. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn’t help myself. Again, I was at his mercy, laying back, bared to the room. How many times was this now? Pleasure bloomed as his fingers continued their conquest; hips, thighs, each touch teasing where I wanted — needed — him most. He knew how wild it made me, how much I’d beg for him to just —

Smiling again, he leant down and slid me deep into his mouth; I shivered watching his lips continue down and down. My hands grabbed his head, fingers threading through his short hair and holding tight. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t help himself.

Over and over he bobbed, until I grew harder and needier. I bucked my hips against him, pleasure rising like flames in my chest, but still I needed more. Growling, I pulled him up to kiss him, lips crashing together hungrily. Still not enough.

“Down,” I commanded, pushing him backwards.

Shinnosuke lay on his back, watching me with lust-filled eyes. I straddled his chest, pinning his arms with my legs. This time he was powerless to stop me. Grabbing his chin, I opened his mouth and slid myself back into him.

“That’s better,” I said, voice crackled and husky. “Take me.”

He did as I commanded again, taking every last inch. I tried desperately to hold myself back from reaching the peak of ecstasy. I needed this to last longer. It was usually me who submitted to his will, but now…

“Shinnosuke-san!”

My head snapped to the door in angry disbelief. What? No!

“Urgent message!”

It can wait I’m so —

Shinnosuke stopped moving and withdrew me. I climbed off him quick, panting, beyond frustrated. Shinnosuke sat up and cleared his throat.

“What is it?”

The door slid open and a messenger bowed, head touching the tatami.

“The Takeda clan are attacking.”

Like what you’ve read? Then let me know! Want to support me? Consider subscribing on my Patreon or Ream.

This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

Another moonless night, the black sky only littered with sparkling stars, each one happy to not be outshone. Without the moon, without Tsukuyomi, everywhere was plunged into darkness each night. And it was all my fault. I’d angered the moon deity.

Boots tapping across a stone bridge, echoing between the trees; the dark would not keep me from my goal. I passed over a stream gurgling, giggling at my misfortune; it erupted into laughter as my boot crashed into the cold water, sinking deeper into the mud and pulling me down until I wrenched myself away. I scrabbled around, arms out, feeling for anything to help pull me free. My fingertips grazed a rock and held enough, gripping tight, as I found my way out and back to the path.

Ahead, the trees surrounding me thinned, the path widening to a long staircase. Wet and muddy, I slowly made my way up the ancient steps, feeling the air around me change. It was subtle at first, like an incoming storm, and my skin prickled. A few more steps and it became nearly impossible to endure.

I am not wanted here.

And yet, I continued.

My legs were heavy now, dragged down by the weight of the air, by my responsibility, by the sheer exhaustion I felt from doing this at every shrine. This was the seventh now, one for each of the phases of the visible moon. If this didn’t work…

“Please,” I begged, feeling close to the torii gate. Once I passed that, I’d be in the realm of the gods. “Let me in.”

I pressed onwards, panting with exertion. I had to make it through, had to talk to Tsukuyomi.

The torii gate loomed above now, the air hummed with magic. I was at the threshold of mortals and gods, ready to serve, as always. At least in this form.

Fire erupted in a crackling whoosh, the stone lanterns lining the steps now lit up brightly. I yelped, falling to my knees, and scrunched my eyes tight, blinded. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, to see the shrine before me, welcoming and warm.

I didn’t waste time climbing the last of the steps, making my way up the steep hill to the highest part of the town. From the top I could see buildings sprawled out between the treetops, obscuring my view. This was a place of solitude, of reverence, not for us to look down on others.

“Tsukuyomi,” I called to the sky, “hear me, please.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” I continued. “I shouldn’t have killed him in your light. But you told me… I had no choice… I was exhausted, it was the perfect chance. I didn’t want to.” Then I added quietly, “I loved him.”

Silence.

“But I did it for you, so I could keep living. Just like you wanted.” I growled in frustration, “what more do you want from me? Show yourself! How many times must I do this?”

Silence.

I’d had enough of this. I wasn’t sure what else I could do. How did you get a god to listen?

Dejected, I sat down on the steps and rested. Every shrine had been the same, empty, the gods just out of reach. Did I keep going, or…

After a while I stood and walked to the first building, the haiden. It was small and adorned sparsely, the whole shrine showed signs of disuse, despite being in a large town. Before I stepped up, I stopped to bow to the two large komainu who guarded it, their lion-dog faces pulled into a snarl and watching me carefully. Holding my breath, I took tentative steps closer, hoping they’d let me past. So far, I was safe. I dug into my pockets for a handful of koban, then slipped the money into the donation box. With two hands, I grabbed the thick rope and rang the bell, the clang calling out in the quiet, perhaps enough to stir the gods. Two bows, two claps, and I pressed my hands together in prayer.

Tsukuyomi, I am a devoted follower after the gift you gave us. Please give us guidance, mercy, or even just a sign you are listening.

One final bow, and I was done.

I felt hollow, exhausted, and alone. It would be a long walk back.

With my heart still heavy, I began the descent. I could feel magic starting to ebb away from me, leaving me cold. The shrine’s sacred magic breathed a warmth into me that human magic couldn’t. Here I didn’t need to hide my true nature, my true self. The gods saw right through me — not that I had anything to hide from them. They’d given me what I wanted. I wasn’t going to waste this chance.

The other gods… would they bless me instead? Perhaps Tsukuyomi’s siblings, Amaterasu or Susanoo. I’d felt their magic lingering at previous shrines; however, they didn’t like him. Why would they offer me help?

The last red torii gate still stood strong as I passed beneath, its colour muting in the dying light. The fire behind me flickered lower, until I was left in the dark once again. A magical emptiness in my chest reminded me I was back to normal, that I walked among the humans, ones I wasn’t the safest from right now. It had been three — four? — weeks since I had killed, since I’d immersed my body in human magic to keep living like this. Every kill loosened my soul, and being around humans made it harder to keep it attached. I needed isolation, to hide away and rest, but speaking to Tsukuyomi was my priority. Only after that would I allow myself to disappear.

Making my way back to the town was easier than my arrival, the shrine pushed me out, eager to get rid of me. Soon I found myself back at the ryokan I was staying at; I’d picked it for being the only inn without an onsen. The steaming water didn’t reach this part of town, and instead, it offered a room with a deep wooden bath. It didn’t take me long before I was soaking in it, washing away the pain of the shrine. It wasn’t as enjoyable as an onsen, but I hadn’t been able to enjoy it since that night.

The water was deliciously hot, just how I liked it. Sweat rolled down Ryoichi’s naked body, tempting. I followed the drops from his brow, caressing his body just how I wanted to. I shifted, straddling his lap and winding my arms around his neck. He looked up at me then, wide eyes and a growing smirk.

“Hotaka,” he had said, happy.

He thought he knew how the evening would end, how it should have ended. Sweet confessions of poetic love, tainted with blood.

I miss him. It still hurts. 
 Maybe he’d taken a part of my soul with him. It would explain why it felt looser than normal after a kill. I felt like I was falling apart, breaking into a thousand pieces.

After my bath, I slipped into a navy-blue yukata, leaving it slightly loose. The summer months were always tough on the skin, and despite not feeling the heat much, I spent a lot of time sweating. A downside to a human body.

My stomach grumbled with hunger, and I cursed myself for staying out too late. I would need to return to the town for food as mealtime was long over at the ryokan. I quickly shoved my purse of koban into my obi and head for the door, stopping only to switch from slippers to wooden geta in the entranceway.

It was the sixth month of the year — I’d have to wait until nearly midnight for the summer sky to be dark enough to talk to Tsukuyomi — and the streets were brimming with people, excited, ecstatic, the energy from them palpable. They travelled in groups, families, all heading in the same direction. Part of me wanted to check them all for magic, the habit deeply ingrained after so long. My stores were full enough for now, but I could never be too careful. Without magic I couldn’t live like this; I probably couldn’t live at all. I’d been warned never to use it all and I’d taken it seriously.

For tonight, I didn’t have to find another mark. My mind was too full, and his magic was serving me well enough. But not my stomach, which growled ever louder.

“Please,” I grumbled under my breath. “I will find something soon.”

I followed the crowds towards the market in search of food stalls. Each person was without a care, happily buried in whatever thoughts they had. It was fascinating and confusing. The moon didn’t hang in the sky anymore. Did they not miss it? Are they not worried? Tsukuyomi did so much for them and their world. And yet here they were: laughing, playing, fanning themselves from the stuffy heat.

The smell of fish led me to a nearby stall where the owner stood behind a grill, cooking raw fish. Taking a selection and two sticks of dango from the stall opposite, I stood enjoying the food and quelling the anger of my stomach. With the lingering taste of the sweet rice treat on my lips, I started to walk back to the ryokan until a booming thrum forced me to stop.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I winced. I’d mistimed my visit here.

A second, third, fourth wadaiko joined in, the drumming clear in the night. Somewhere, a new chorus followed: flutes, the metal clang of atarigane, and a deeper drumming boom of oodaiko. Finally came the call of voices. Dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!

Heave ho! Heave ho!

The words only called during a festival.

I tried to run, but was stopped only by the throngs of people heading towards me. Children jumped full of excitement, I had to weave to avoid them, trying to get as far away as I could. Just a little further. It was hard not to feel the energy of the town as the festival began; even from here it lured me in, the beat wrapping around my soul. Such pure energy from humans, I couldn’t resist it. I felt my body protesting, wanting to join the festival. We hadn’t seen one in so long… surely just one night would be fine? Summer always had the best festivals. The almost magical atmosphere had surprised me at first; I’d never felt anything like it in the human world before.

I stopped. Again, voices were calling, dokkoisho! Dokkoisho! The wadaiko were booming in time with my heartbeat; I could see the men striking them in time with each other, their movements perfect. All the musicians played their part, luring the crows closer. My feet followed effortlessly as I was swept along. I could hardly move within the crush of people, but it wasn’t suffocating. I enjoyed the closeness. I felt part of something bigger than myself, bigger than Hotaka.

Mesmerised by everything around me, my voice joined with the return call. “Dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!”

Now in a wider street, a new light surrounded me as bamboo poles carrying hundreds of lanterns passed us by. To the beat they were suddenly hefted upwards, swaying as the men who carried them rested the poles on their shoulders. With another call they were raised higher, new poles adding to the bottom, the lanterns sailing higher into the moonless sky. The words slipped from my mouth. The sight of the golden lanterns struck me deep, each one like a moon of it’s own. Three, four times they were raised again until they filled the starry sky.

I called from my soul: dokkoisho! Dokkoisho!

The feeling was a balm for my heart. I’d been so caught up dealing with Tsukuyomi, I forgot why I wanted to be around humans in the first place. Their lives were short and they put all their energy into everything they did. War, love, sex; I’d experienced so much, and yet so little. With Hotaka, we’d have a lifetime to consume it all.

Maybe there was more for us here than chasing after a god who didn’t want to listen. I needed to forget about Tsukuyomi, for a short while at least. Humans would provide as they always had. And if Tsukuyomi still doesn’t want to listen after… I would call out to Amaterasu or Susanoo. I’d done everything Tsukuyomi had said: I’d killed, I’d hunted down his enemies, and now he ignored me.

Perhaps I would even call for Ukemochi instead. They hated Tsukuyomi for ruining the feast summoned for him. After spitting out fish and game from their mouth and pulling more food from other orifices, Tsukuyomi had been disgusted and murdered them. Amaterasu had been furious at her brother for killing the deity of food and he hid away and only showed himself during the night. As I flew the skies, I felt as the sun and the moon blazed and froze the air in their wrath. Below us all, the humans scrambled around desperate to appease them, building shrines and praying each day. Fear left them wide eyed and obedient, begging for stability once again. All those centuries before I’d been fearful too, hiding above the clouds, wishing I could help those small helpless creatures.

Perhaps now was my chance, I could offer Ukemochi information for advice, for help in keeping this body alive at all costs.

Allegiance counted for nothing when survival meant everything.

And I always survive.

“Do you hear that Tsukuyomi?” I growled. “I always survive.”

I snapped out of my thoughts as a new, faster beat boomed, deeper still. My soul wanted to be free again; I could feel it fluttering in my core, loosening from the body. The spell of the night sought to free my true self to all the people, to undo all that we’d endured. I’d spent too long watching the humans from afar for this to happen now. How would anyone want to be around us if they knew the truth?

They cannot see me.

I started to panic, I needed to escape, but I was caught in the dizzying trap of people and voices and the continual beat of the music. It lulled me side to side, the vibrations resonating in my chest, warming my soul. Everyone’s eyes followed me, watching as we feebly pushed through a crowd to find another. There was no escape. My vision blurred. All I could see was swaying lights going back and forth then back and forth. We can’t escape.

Let it take you, Hotaka. I always survive.

***

Warm sun washed over my face as I lay awake contemplating the night before. Summer was always a problem for me, full of festivals and energy; it’d been no wonder I’d lost control. I should have known better. But, part of me was glad for it. I’d enjoyed the freedom, the warmth, and even the fear.

It had been many years since I had almost lost my soul like that, however I had been moving from battlefield to battlefield with Ryoichi for many years. There had been no time for something so grand. My soul had stayed rooted inside of me.

Instead, my heart had loosened. A pang, an ache; I couldn’t think about him now.

I pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away and yawned, stretching my limbs out and wiggling my neck, narrowly avoiding kicking someone in the head. I’d woken in a pile of snoring bodies, all revellers from the night before. I had no clue how I had arrived here, nor would I be able to find out as I planned to sneak away while they ate. I didn’t trust myself fully around them; I was barely holding onto my soul and one slip of the tongue could ruin it all.

Floating in the morning air came the sound of a koto, the melodic strings plucking a lonely song. Tears welled in my eyes and I felt the pressing need to find the one playing it. Who could be lamenting at such a time, with the sun shining and the day just beginning?

I lazily climbed up off the futon and rearranged my creased yukata, tucking it tighter into the obi. A clink of coins let me know my koban hadn’t been stolen, thankfully. I sniffed myself. The lingering smell of sweat permeated the fabric; I was close to begging for a wash before going anywhere. How could bodies begin to smell so fast?

Nobody stirred as I stepped over them to exit, feet planting between flailed arms and legs. I’d find clean clothes later, perhaps throw myself in the river on the way back. Through empty rooms and hallways, I followed the sound, peering round each corner hoping to find my mystery koto player.

“Ohayo,” came the sleepy good morning as a short man passed me.

“Ohayogozaimasu,” the upbeat maids called, ushering me from the kitchen I’d wandered into.

Sliding open another door, I found my way outside to a small courtyard. Under a plum tree, practising in sunbeams, knelt the koto player. Her eyes never moved from the wooden instrument, her deft fingers plucking the strings with experience.

I’d tried to play once before, lounging around in Ryoichi’s bedroom, watching him trying to master the strings. He had a terrible ear for melodies and the screeching of bad notes became unbearable at times, but now it brought a smile to my face. It was a memory I treasured, and didn’t deserve to keep.

I made my way towards her, kneeling to listen as the song progressed, the notes falling sadder and sadder. Tears stained my yukata as they fell into the fabric against my will, blossoming out like spilled ink. Slowly, the notes faded into a stop, leaving me tear-stained and empty.

“That was beautiful,” I breathed, wiping the last tears away with my sleeve.
 Humans were incredible.

“I was hoping you would enjoy it, I played it for you.”

I froze. “For me?”

One finger on the koto string, she slid a screeching note. “Obake.”

Despite my fear I raised my eyes to hers hoping I’d misheard, but her eyes bore into mine, bypassing the flesh, reaching into my being. How does she know?

I forced a laugh. “Obake? Why are you calling for shapeshifters? I don’t — ”

Smack!

Her palm hit my forehead, jolting my magical senses. Instantly, I could sense the magic around me. She was surrounded in it. Black tendrils emanated from her small body, unlike the magic which surrounded humans. Their magic swirled in purples, deepening to black only when concentrated. The hairs on my neck stood on end.

I hadn’t felt this before.

I shoved her arm away and scrambled to my feet.

“I can sense you, like all yokai,” she called, watching me carefully. “So which are you? Kitsune? Bakeneko? You feel like a cat spirit, but I see no tail.”

Me, a cat spirit? I tamped down my anger. How dare she compare me to such things. I was much more than that.

A smirk formed as she stood there in the golden light, short black hair held back by a sakura-adorned clip, her kimono similarly patterned. There was nothing dangerous about her looks at all, and yet every sense was screaming at me to run.

“You have nothing to fear from me. I am here to help you.”

“Didn’t you know, calling for yokai is bad luck,” I said, trying to restrain a hiss.

Kneeling, her fingers returned to the strings, a hastily-plucked tune, and my chest surged, pulling me closer to the koto. I gritted my teeth as my feet stepped closer, betraying me once again.

“Your soul is loose,” she said, looking me up and down. “A bad weakness. I saw you last night too; the lights grew brighter around you, the calls louder. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have woken up in safety.” Her fingers moved from the koto and settled in her lap. “See, I won’t use this now. You may leave if you wish, or you can listen to me.”

Free from her spell, I hastily turned my back on her, hurrying out of the courtyard before she could call me back. How dare she use such magic on me, to say such things. I didn’t believe a word, couldn’t believe it. No person could have such power.

Unless she wasn’t human.

She wasn’t a god, at least, for she didn’t know my true form. I could never hide that from the gods.

Rushing back through the hallways finding the main door, I dodged the newly awoken people, never looking back, instead heading on and on. I need to keep going. Always forwards.

There was never anything for me looking back. I learnt that the hard way.

The streets were mostly empty in the morning sun. Remnants of the festival still lingered and the people cleaning were full of life. I half-expected more calls of dokkoisho to ring in the air. At first, I’d thought this place relaxing, with its festival air and the happiness of its people, but it had been a false sense of security. It always was. It had clouded my mind and made me weak.

I couldn’t risk going back to the ryokan, wondering how much I’d been watched all this time. I would have to leave my belongings behind for now. Staying around humans was still risky, especially if there were more like her out there. But where could I go?

My mind turned to the shrine, quiet and unused. If I could slip into the forest, I might be able to stay hidden and figure out a better plan. It would have to do for now. I would beg the gods for protection if it came to it.

I was fairly confident finding my way around the town. I had only been here for a few days, but after you visited so many towns, they began to feel the same. Even the shrines looked similar, tucked away in secluded areas. They felt different, however, and I could tell which gods had visited each shrine. I had to open my magical sense to see the marks left behind by their presence. Tsukuyomi’s was obvious to me now, a cold white magic hanging around in wisps. Amaterasu’s was the opposite, a golden aura which enveloped the whole shrine.

The surrounding trees were as tall and imposing as last time, and I pleaded under my breath for them to let me past this time. I hurried out of sight, rushing along the stone path, careful to avoid the water. Unlike last time, my magical sense was open, my forehead still tingling from the attack earlier. I scanned around for any tell-tale signs of gods — the splash of even the tiniest colour. And yet, nothing. No magic of theirs remained to stain the air.

My stomach twisted in worry. Even in the overgrown abandoned shrines deep in the country, signs of the gods still lingered, brought to life by prayer. This was the first time I’d found one clear of anything.

Running up the steps, I stopped at the torii gate and pressed my hand to it. There was still a kind of magic here, I could feel the change from mortal to gods’ realm.

“They won’t come here,” a voice said from behind me. I spun to find the koto player watching me. “You might be in their realm, but they don’t want to listen. Not after what you’ve done.”

How did she sneak up on me?

I let go of the torii gate and continued up the steps. I wasn’t going anywhere near her. Instead, I’d have to try to contact the gods.

“Wait.” Her steps were hurried as she followed. “I’m sorry, I was too excited. I’ve only ever met small yokai before. I truly don’t mean to hurt you. My name is Ayane.”

I ignored her and kept going, each footstep heavier than the last. She could say whatever she liked. I was not going to trust her. Her words, however, were concerning. They don’t want to listen. To me, or everyone? At the top of the steps, I stopped. What if she knows more?

“Why?”

“Why?” Ayane paused a few steps from the top and shrugged. “Gods can be fickle. Even the smallest thing can set them off. But for you — ” She walked closer to me with an intense stare. “You killed so many, plenty of their favourites. I don’t even need to be told. Your soul reeks of it. You’ve visited all the shrines in this area trying to contact them. None of them have listened, but they know you’ve been calling. Why should they help you?”

“How — ”

Ayane smiled and ran off to the haiden, stopping at the donation box to pray. I glanced around the area sensing for any magic, or any indication the gods were listening to her. But again, silence.

Before I could move, my blood ran cold. Bright light submerged the shrine, leaving me breathless and vulnerable. The power washed over me: overwhelming, powerful, nothing like I’d felt before. I couldn’t resist the feeling tearing at my soul. Looser and looser still. I flailed, trying to hold on to even the thread of something to keep me grounded.

And then it was over.

“Are you still alive?” asked Ayane, her voice somewhere nearby.

Was I?

I tried opening my eyes but my body wouldn’t listen; a chill ran down me as I helplessly panicked.

“Ukemochi has heard you calling to Tsukuyomi over and over, and she wants to bless you. But we know you would fight it. You’ve been running and hiding amongst the humans for so long, that’s all you know how to do. Ukemochi says Tsukuyomi has betrayed you, deceiving and leaving you to fend for yourself all this time. Sky gods are all the same.”

As I lay there, my body barely registering what was happening, I could begin to feel my soul being wrenched away. The wavering tones washed over me, the tune finally releasing me from Hotaka’s body.

“Ah, so that’s what you are.” Ayane’s voice lingered close. “Not a cat spirit at all. Ukemochi can use you for sure. Be sure to thank them.”

What?

The koto slowed, the deep vibrations plucking away the last of me. Weightless. I soared into the skies and felt like I could breathe, that all the weight I’d been carrying had been lifted. When I opened my eyes finally, the world came alive. Colours, bright and vivid, splashed over everything I saw. The shrine once full of greys and browns now shone red and orange.

I’ve… missed this.

Hands now wings, humans now tiny specks from the sky above. There on the stone lay the body which had been ours. Hotaka. Black hair spilled, skin now paled and no breath was drawn. Soon it would be too late. There was no returning. It’d been painful enough the first time, abandoning the great form of the vermillion bird — the suzaku. I’d ripped myself into feathers and fallen to the world below, taking the dying body beneath me, merging my everything with him. Together we’d become Hotaka. Together we’d roamed the country. Together we’d killed to survive.

“Suzaku.”

I tore my eyes from my dying body — Hotaka’s dying body — to see the voice that commanded me. Their presence hit me first, a nourishing warmth, making me feel sated and at peace, if only for a moment.

“You’re a long way from home here, aren’t you?” The presence formed a figure, a woman in a flowing green kimono floating in the skies beside me. “Did you dislike the south?”

“I… don’t remember,” I answered, trying to recall all those years ago. “I remember seeing them, the humans. I wanted to be with them, see them close up.”

I looked down to the ground, to where Hotaka lay, already missing the feel of being down there.

“Of course. Humans are intriguing creatures. Ayane has told me about you, brought you here to me.” They pulled a fan from their emerald obi and pointed it at me. “I have returned you to this form. Isn’t that better? There’s no use hiding down there. If you want our attention, this is how you do it, not in some stolen body.”

I growled, “I did not steal a body, it was given to me.”

Without me, Hotaka would have died.

I faced the figure. “Who are you?”

“I am Ukemochi. I released you from that human prison. I know you wanted to speak to Tsukuyomi, but he will not hear you. He is far from here.” They approached, hand running across my vermillion feathers, caressing them with delicate fingers. I was frozen by their magic surrounding me.

“You did as he said. You’ve been living off the energy of other humans,” they continued. “He misled you, however. That is why you have killed.” Ukemochi’s voice grew chilled. “Did you really think you could kill all our followers and get away with it? You’ve been as bad as him; the cruelness seeps into you as well. I should shatter your spirit here and now.”

No! Hotaka needs me.

How long had he been without breath now? How much longer could he last?

I tried to pull from Ukemochi, reaching for Hotaka. Perhaps my magic could reach him, keep him safe until we combined again.

Hotaka. The only time I felt like I had true freedom, sharing his body, his senses, his experiences with the world. The sky was a lonely place, down here I’d experienced love, hate, and being surrounded by thousands of souls.

“Suzaku,” Ukemochi called. “You will not reach that body. You say you it was given, but did the others ask to be killed? You stole from them, all of them.”

“He said it was how I would survive,” I hissed back, recalling the words Tsukuyomi had said: If you want to live in the human world, you must have magic. Some humans have magic; it grows largest at death. Take it.

Ukemochi scoffed. “He lied. If that were the way, then all humans would be dead, or would fear us. He spurns anything he hates and spurns you now as much as me. I created a feast for him, and he murdered me. You feasted, and he ignores you. Such an irony.”

I pulled away from Ukemochi, trying to get a distance from their words. It couldn’t be true. Why would he lie to me if he let me have this?

“Suzaku, you cannot carry on killing. I feel the fire within you, but with each death, the other gods notice you more and more. Soon they will order your execution.” They smiled, emanating warmth once again. “Ayane has told me about you. We can help, find a new way of life for you.”

“But Hotaka — ”

“ — must die. Your merging with the human causes too much chaos. You will kill again.”

“You would let another human die then?”

“One life to save yours, I think that is suitable. He would have died eventually anyway. That’s why you picked him, isn’t it?”

I stared at them. How much did they know? How much did any of them know? Could they see into my mind even now? See how I’d seen Hotaka, broken and alone, crying out to anyone who could hear him as rain fell on his dying body. I’d wrapped him in my wings, giving him a chance at life.

He lay dying again now, out of my reach, lips tinged blue. Moments more and death would take him forever. I hadn’t saved him for this, to die at a shrine after having me ripped away. Was he in pain? We’d never been this close to death before. We’d always escaped. He can’t escape this.

“I will not forsake him.”

“Suzaku,” Ukemochi growled, eyes blazing in fury. “He is dead. You will be dead. I will shatter you across the skies so that you’ll never be found.”

They’re scared… scared of me? I cannot tell who is lying.

“Tsukuyomi!” I cried, pouring all my soul into the call. “Hear me.”

The sky shone bright in the morning. Tsukuyomi was at his weakest. How could he hear me?

What if…

I spread my wings wide, spreading each feather as far as it could go, blanketing the sky in a red darkness. Perhaps it would be enough. It had to be.

Ukemochi scanned the skies, iron fan now open and striking at my feathers. And yet I still held, even as I watched my feathers break away, falling to the shrine below in tattered pieces. I would withstand this until the end if I had to. I placed my trust in Tsukuyomi. If he lied, then I hoped Ukemochi would deal with him. Me however…

A screech passed my beak as the blood-splattered blades hit deep, but I still persevered.

“Tsukuyomi,” I cried once more with the last of my faith, wailing throughout the sky. Ukemochi’s attack continued relentlessly, close to breaking my being.

In the last shred of my darkness, a light formed, dusty white, barely illuminating the darkness. From it stepped a haggard man, frail and cold. He looked weaker than when I’d seen him before, eyes sunk into his greying skin and strands of silver hair barely holding on. A white kimono swamped his thin body.

“You listened,” I said, astonished.

Tsukuyomi stared blankly around him, not registering the world around him.

What is going on? What have they done to you?

“You,” he whispered, chilled voice haunting, finger pointing towards Ukemochi. “I killed you. You planned to poison the gods.”

Ceasing the attack on me, Ukemochi turned to Tsukuyomi. “I did no — ”

“The feast for Amaterasu, the food brought forth from your mouth — ”

“See how he lies, even now,” Ukemochi crooned, returning to my side. “The gods have been punishing him, that’s why he’s so weak.”

I didn’t understand.

“Suzaku,” Tsukuyomi called. “I need your faith, as always.”

“I’m here.”

“No,” Ukemochi growled, hands reaching for my broken wings once more.

Crack.

The darkness faltered. My wing drooped as searing pain flooded, blood now gushing, and feathers fell in clumps below. I cried and screeched and yelled as I saw snapped bones in Ukemochi’s hands, ripped from my body. Broken shards lanced crimson-stained feathers, and I called magic to keep me in the air, the last of my reserves. Ukemochi grappled me again, and I thrashed until another crack rang through my body. I was not strong enough to best a god.

Only a god can defeat a god.

“Hotaka,” I called beneath me, flailing to stay airborne in any way I could, hoping he could hear me. “Hotaka, listen. The other gods must know this. Remember when you wake…”

My magic failed. Chest hollow. Mind numb.

Down and down I fell, spiralling into a fast plummet. The shrine sped into my vision until I landed, spirit shattering on the stone. Hotaka’s body lay beside me, last breath drawn too long ago.

I have to tell them all.

“Tsuku — ”

Spirit broken, soul shattered, body cold. I cried with the last of my being, hoping it’d be enough, hoping there was still a way out of this. My vision was blurring, the light of the sun burning strong. I felt myself fading away.

…But, I always survive.

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This is a short story from my upcoming anthology Tales of Yamato. A collection of stories set in the historic Japanese Muromachi period, but with a fantasy flair including magic, gods, and supernatural yokai.

I post new stories up on Ream every month, before releasing the previous month’s story up to read for free. Ream is also where you can read Tanuki Troubles for free.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his lithe body sprawled in the silvery moonlight.

I wasn’t looking at the moon though. Only him.

“Yes, it is. I can hardly tear my eyes away.”

He turned to me then, a chuckle gracing his lips, black strands of hair falling across his face as he pulled himself up. His movements were slow, teasing, skin uncovered and covered again. He was enjoying this. As was I.

I found myself wandering closer, passing the open door, bare feet padding on the tatami mat, heart racing, lips parting.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ryoichi said, smile widening.

“So should I take my Lord’s words as a love confession to Tsukuyomi? I’m sure he is enjoying the view of your body from the skies.”

I knelt down in front of him and he reached up, pulling my kimono open; his eyes wandered up and down my deliciously-bruising body, red marks deepening after his rough touch. “And now he is enjoying yours too.”

“Then should I shut the door?”

“Hotaka.” Ryoichi grabbed my chin and pulled me to his lips. Breaking the kiss, he breathed, “You, I love you.”

“Only poets try to say it in fancy ways.” I stopped to smile and kiss him again. “And you are no poet my Lord.”

“Please, we are alone. I am more than your lord like this.”

I licked my lips. “I love you too… Ryoichi.”
 The air around him changed, subtle to most, but not to me. A magical warmth exuded from his skin; I ran the backs of my fingertips up his bared arm, absorbing the traces. He couldn’t feel it, he didn’t even know it was there, exiting his body in streams as it had all evening.

Blood rushed to my cheeks. Earlier. The hot water of the onsen surrounding us, steam rising up and up, our bared bodies relaxed and calm. I’d opened my eyes then. Not in the way most did when seeing the world around them. No, I saw vivid colours and magic. Purple bubbles floated in the soft wind, and Ryoichi sat amongst them all, growing magic that he couldn’t see. It clung to his blemished skin, to its creator, begging to stay longer.

Now that we had grown closer, each touch of mine sent it wild, responding to the budding feelings deep in his heart. I needed him to feel more. The magic would only last for so long, and I wanted every drop. I’d spent years looking for someone like him.

Smiling, I inched closer, fingers rolling down the defined muscles of his chest. Most vassals didn’t dare touch their lord so, but I wasn’t like them. The warmth of the onsen soared as I straddled his lap, Ryoichi stared but said nothing.

“You’ve wanted this and I am here to please.”

“Hotaka.”

I’d wanted it too. Somewhere, I’d fallen for him.

Ryoichi wrapped his arms around my chest, hands resting on my lower back. I smiled as the magic reached me, storing deep inside my own body, a blooming mental ecstasy.

Leaning to his ear, I brushed away his wet black hair and whispered, “It can be our secret. We’re here alone. We don’t even have to be lord and vassal… just two men who want each other. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Pressing the softest kiss to his neck, I faced him. Black eyes watched me hungrily, torn between duty and desire. I’d seen this look so many times before, and each time he’d picked duty. I would not let him pick it again.

“Perhaps…” I glanced away shyly, feebly attempting to slide back off his lap.

“No,” he growled and held me tighter. “Don’t move. I can’t admire you from far away. Here,” his hands moved, gliding along my soaked skin above and below water, “I can see everything. Almost everything.”

I whimpered before my Lord, his touch arousing all my senses. He’d touched me a thousand times, but not like this. All around him the magic grew, purple deepening to blue, then to black. I needed it, but I needed him more. Ryoichi didn’t hesitate then, lips finding skin, fervent, needy, wanting.

My Lord led us from the water. We’d made it as far as the inn’s futon before our bodies collided. Fingers rolled through hair, gripping, pulling, as limbs tangled. I straddled his bare hips, looking down at my Lord flustered and lustful. As our ecstasy grew, so did the magic. I breathed in his scent, breathed in his magic. It would all be mine. He would be mine.

The night had grown late; Tsukuyomi had continued on in the skies. Only once exhaustion had taken us and the tatami mats beneath us were slick with sweat did we notice the passing of time.

I sat before him now, my own body gorged on his magic, yet still hungry. The magic gained would keep me going for many months, but I wasn’t here for just a few extra months of life. I needed more.

“Would you care for some sake my Lor — Ryoichi?” I caught the look in his eyes and corrected myself quick enough. My fingers still brushed his skin, making my way to his shoulders. “Or I could call for a meal to be made.”

Ryoichi nodded. “Only a few cups tonight, I need a clear mind for the morning. We need to return to the real world.” He took my cheek in his palm, a sly smile forming. “I am not done with you yet, Hotaka. I’ll find a way for you to be by my side without issue. If that is what you want.”

I placed my hand over his as my heart lurched. “You would do that for me?”

He snorted. “Do you think this is the first time a vassal and lord have fallen for each other? You’ve proven your loyalty, your love.”

My eyes fell to my lap. I couldn’t look at him. This had to end. “Then we should toast.”

Leaving my lover, I hurried to the low table we’d pushed aside and poured two cups of sake. Ryoichi followed, kneeling next to me, our legs brushing together. I pressed a cup into his hand and lifted my own.

“Kampai, my Lord.”

“Kampai.”

“Your hands must be tired, let me.” I lifted my cup to his lips, tipping it until the clear sake flowed freely. Once empty, I stopped to refill. “I hope the sake pleases you.”

“Slow down.” He chuckled and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Tsukuyomi is blessing us with a long night.”

Taking a deep breath, I held it before letting it go gently. “You’re right. This night could last forever if we wished it.”

Slower this time, I continued to press the cup to his lips. Like me, Ryoichi couldn’t handle much sake before the room began to spin and words fell freely. Too many times in the years spent in his service had we ended up drunk out of our minds. I’d enjoyed my time, and my sake, but now I needed a clear head. No mistakes could be made.

But why did it have to be tonight?

Four years I had planned this moment, weighing up every action and interaction. Scenarios played over and over until just one way remained. First, I was to get him drunk until he passed out. It was always hard to wake him from those sleeps. Next I would say farewell to him and…

The next cup lifted to his lips with another pang in my chest, the sake flowing free once again. 
 I had to do this.

I had no choice.

If I waited, the magic would dwindle back to nothing, and I’d spent too long here eking it out, making his magic stronger. His kind were becoming too few now, and I couldn’t live without magic.

Ryoichi’s cheeks flushed in the moonlight, whether from my touch or the alcohol’s, I wasn’t sure. I’d grown to love this face, his crooked nose and lopsided smile, the way his lips would quirk when he was trying to be stern but he couldn’t help but laugh. I’d known from the start how this would end; it was the sole reason I was here. I just never expected this.

Sake cup discarded, my thumb rolled across Ryoichi’s bottom lip, wiping away droplets of alcohol. I licked them away, tasting the sweet tang.

“Ah I see, you would rather drink from me.”

I smiled and kissed him, breath lingering on his skin.

“Sake tastes better like this.”

“More,” he whispered, voice needy and wanting, hands reaching for me. “I want to drink from you.”

Ryoichi leant close, fingers pulling away my silken kimono, baring me fully to the moon once again.

“The moon — ” Words caught in my throat. My chest hurt. “ — Is very beautiful.”

He smirked against my neck, arms winding around my waist. “Yes, you are my poet, Hotaka.”

“L-Let me get you some more sake.”
 I climbed to my feet and shuffled over to the door; I’d ordered two bottles to make sure. They sat neatly on a tray lined up perfectly.

“Hotakaaa,” Ryoichi called, crawling across the damp tatami mats, swaying with drunkenness. “You are too far from me.”

“Just a moment, my Lord.”

Behind the tray lay a sheath filled with a blade I’d used many times before. This time, however, regret filled both of us, overspilling from my body.

I have to.

“Hotakaaa, what did I tell you,” Ryoichi called once more, his breath now upon my skin, his voice luring me away. “Don’t call me that here.”

But if I do…

Turning my head to him, I kissed him, once, twice, lingering on his taste. “Ryoichi.”

One hand grasped at regret, the other dug fingernails in his shoulder. I forced a smile as the blade sunk into his chest. He cried out, confusion bubbling over his sweet-tasting lips, and horror clouded his black eyes.

I hadn’t planned to kill him quite like this, watching his life fade, stealing my lover away. But I couldn’t miss the opportunity. If I had waited any more, I…

My hands shook.

I didn’t want to watch.

Magic filled the room, swirling in a black miasma. I could feel my body soaking it in as my Lord grew heavy in my arms, blood running down his bruised skin. Bruises I’d made.

“Forgive me,” I choked out, my tongue thick and dry.

I lay him down, his sightless eyes far away now, my own filling with tears. I couldn’t cry though. My job was done. Mission complete.

I should be happy.

The moonlight bathed Ryoichi in its light once more, soft but cold. Tsukuyomi still watched us brightly.

“Forgive me,” I whispered to him, begging the deity for any kind of mercy.

The room was empty now, magic depleted, soul departed. I was alone. I knew I should have left by now, but my body was heavy and tears still fell.

I wrapped my bruised body in clean clothes, bruises he’d made, the kimono that smelt of him discarded. Returning to Ryoichi, I kissed his lips one last time while removing the blade. Wiping the blood on his black kimono, I returned it to the sheath filled with regret.

I didn’t look back as I exited the room. Clouds now covered the moon, bathing everything in darkness. I ran on and on, feet taking me further and further from where I wanted to be but… I had the magic now. I wouldn’t need to kill again any time soon.

I wish the moon wasn’t so beautiful.

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