The Road to Edoby Sean Hower |
Part 1 appears in this issue. |
| conclusion |
“I love you,” he told her one lazy day.
The confession terrified her. She pushed him aside and regarded him cautiously. “You can’t,” she said, all formality in her speech shoved aside by panic. “You’re just confused.”
“I do and I’m not. I feel as though we have known each other our entire lives. I feel as though your home and lord are mine.”
“That’s wonderful.” Reiko forced a smile. “It means that you’re happy. You deserve happiness.”
“I can’t help but think that I should be somewhere else though. It’s like a dream, you know, where you try to get somewhere but can’t find your way.”
“I know that feeling,” Reiko said darkly, “but you’re just remembering a dream. Let it go.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s it. But are you sure? Do you remember how I got here? It was raining, right? I remember being cold at least.”
“Does it matter?”
There was a desperation about her that made it not matter. He held her, seeking some measure of understanding from her contact if not from her words. When they kissed, his thoughts only became more clouded, and as they stripped away their clothes and their bodies pressed into each other, he abandoned what was left of his splintered past.
After that, day and night lost their meaning. There was only time filled with stories, songs, drink, food, and lover’s play. Hanzo could not imagine a life without Reiko. His love turned to a longing for a future with no other but her. He told himself there would be a perfect moment to ask the inevitable question. This sated his fear until he could no longer contain his desire.
“Have you thought much about marriage?” Hanzo asked as he and Reiko snuggled on the verge of sleep. The pattering rain matched the beat of their calming hearts.
“All women do,” she giggled. “From the time we’re little girls, we dream of a husband who will protect us and provide for us.” She regarded him like a child making ready to tease a playmate.
When their gazes met, Hanzo’s heart swelled with love and devotion.
Reiko’s mood darkened and she turned away. “There are other things that are equally important.” The seriousness in her tone surprised him.
“Like what?”
She hesitated. “It’s a secret that I keep close to me.”
“I can keep secrets.”
She regarded him with anxious hope. “I feel as though I’ve strayed from my path.” It was a cathartic confession.
“What path?”
“I’m not sure. I have a sense of the way things should be but I can’t do anything about it.”
“Maybe what you’re missing is a husband?”
She blushed. “What a silly thing to say.”
“Why? If you found the right man,” Hanzo’s courage faltered then quickly regained itself, “a man like me, what would be so silly about that?”
Reiko sat up, once again playful, and slapped Hanzo’s chest. “Stop joking.”
“Who’s joking?” He was hurt that she wasn’t taking him seriously. “Look, we’ve known each other our whole lives. We love each other.” Reiko flinched, as though the thought had never occurred to her. “What’s so silly about marriage?”
She shook her head, trying to force some thought out of her mind. “It’s time to eat.”
Hanzo was confused. “Did I offend you?”
“No. I just can’t think about these things. We have the present, why talk about the future?” She bowed and left.
Hanzo’s optimism waned and the compartment felt it. He slipped on his robe and listened to the rain for a time. Then, he slid open the shoji to revel in the cool breeze and mist that blew against him. He had always enjoyed how the rain danced along the roof of the cottage, played against the stone wall of the compound, and trickled away from the stables.
His thoughts went to a horse named Raven. Had he ever had such an animal? If so, why would he forget it? If not, why would it come to his mind? The gap in his memory annoyed him and he became determined to find the answer.
He stretched his robe over his head to keep himself dry then marched across the grounds to the stables. The rain flared up but he ignored it and became only more determined.
The inside of the stable was a well ordered place with every tool neatly arranged. Gray daylight cut sharp lines across a hard-packed floor into stalls that lined both sides of a central walkway.
There were no horses.
Why would his lord have no horses? Whoever was in charge of the stables would know. His name began with an ‘H.’ No, a ‘T.’ That’s right. Twit. Toad. Togo. Togasa. That was it. Togasa. A flash of a rainy night, of Togasa leading a horse up a road, sent a spiky chill into Hanzo’s head. Raven was Hanzo’s horse. They’d traveled together from Mito.
The world blurred and went lopsided.
Why was he in Mito? He’d never left the cottage. He had grown up there. No, Mito was his home. He had been on his way to Edo when they had found the cottage.
Hanzo grabbed at a nearby beam for support but the wood was light, as though it would crumble in his hands, and he quickly abandoned the idea. The stable itself lost its shine and the biting smell of rotting flesh stung his nose.
That’s when he saw them — a mound of flesh and bone in one stall, the decaying form of a person clinging to the tattered remains of a pilgrim’s outfit in another, and the scattered bones and scraps of cloth that were once a merchant.
Fear went up in Hanzo. These people had been murdered. There was a murderer nearby. He had to tell Reiko.
A great weight threw itself into his back and knocked him to the floor. Between flashes of movement and growling his shoulder went numb and a spreading nausea set him trembling. He twisted and flailed about unable to do much else.
A form tumbled away and crashed through the wall of a stall. The wood shattered and crumbled into dust. The stable shuddered. Its walls and ceiling withered and bent under the weight of age and neglect.
A fox limped from the debris of the stall and cried out like a wounded baby. This was answered by a series of scratchy barks from within the compound.
Get back to the compartment, Hanzo told himself. His flight filled the world with sparks of white pain. He lost his breath and his body immediately went into exhaustion. Razor teeth shredded his ankles and calves, sending bolts of fire through him and stealing more of his strength.
Get back to the compartment.
He leaped onto the walkway, struggling to keep the world from winking away, and dashed towards the shoji of his chamber.
Reiko appeared at the entrance.
“Get back inside,” Hanzo shouted, tasting bile in his throat. He dove into the room and crashed into the corner.
“It’s all right.” Reiko snapped shut the shoji. “They can’t get in.”
Hanzo watched the shadows of dozens of pacing foxes grow and shrink against the panels of the shoji. Why weren’t they trying to break through?
“Where is master’s bow?”
“For what?”
“To kill those things.”
“There’s nothing to worry about?” Reiko smiled. It was a great toothy grin filled with fangs.
A lump went up into Hanzo’s throat. What was happening and why was it happening to him?
Reiko moved towards him.
His body chilled under the realization that he was going to die.
Reiko stumbled back against the opposite wall; it took a moment for Hanzo to realize he had kicked her. Reiko’s kimono fell away and revealed not the ivory skin that had so enticed Hanzo but red fur.
“Nogitsune,” Hanzo cried. Fox spirits that preyed on the flesh and souls of the unwary. The realization shot through him like an arrow. The clean clothes that had been laid out for him, the meal that Reiko had brought, and the shoji that separated him from the foxes disintegrated. The rain stopped, the clouds dispersed, and a bright morning sun warmed the grounds.
Reiko’s body contorted and shrank into that of a five-tailed fox. Even his own body shrank into the emaciated form of a starving man in tattered clothing.
Hanzo’s fear hardened to anger at Reiko’s betrayal. How could she have done this to him? He was a good man. Sure he had made a few mistakes, but they were not deserving of this sort of punishment. He just wanted something better for himself. Why should she take that away from him?
In a rage, he snatched up Reiko by one of her tails.
She yelped and twisted in a frenzy to break free.
He grabbed her by the neck with his free hand and rose with her at arm’s length. The motion set his heart roaring in his ears. Her claws sliced into his arm and he pulled her body tight more out of spite than to keep her under control. The effort nearly did him in, though.
Reiko whimpered miserably and gave up her struggle. Her dark eyes filled with tears.
An aching guilt split Hanzo’s anger. Why was this happening to him? How could he possibly hurt her? It was too much. All too much. He fought to keep from crying. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
A fox came in through a broken pane in the shoji. “Put our sister down or we’ll eat you,” it said.
“If you try, I’ll snap her neck.” He was too weak to do it and he would sooner die than hurt her.
“We’ll still eat you. You can’t kill all of us.”
The foxes closed in around him.
The evil creature was right, of course. There was nothing Hanzo could do against so many of them. He would be felled then pulled into pieces and scattered about the compound. Was that what happened to Raven? He couldn’t meet such an end. Not here. Not before he had left his mark. Not before he had spent a lifetime with Reiko. Reiko. She loved him, right? Couldn’t she convince them to let him go? Or was her love part of this trap? No.
Angry spirits, not Reiko, had conspired against Hanzo since he had left Mito. Angry spirits, not Reiko were poised to snatch away his life and his love through these nogitsune. He couldn’t let that happen. He was destined for better things. He would not allow himself to die in the hills like a rat.
He screwed up his courage, trembling from the strain of it all. “You told me that something was missing in your life,” he said to Reiko. “You can find it in Edo. You can be my wife. You can do what you need to sate your needs. Just spare my life and you will have a chance to better yours.”
Would she agree to it? She had to and not just to save her own life. She had to agree because she loved him. If she didn’t love him, there was no need to continue this fight. Sure he wanted to live, to make his mark, but not without her.
He loosened his grip, terrified that she would decline.
“Would it please you?” Her voice was a nervous sing-song.
Everything she did pleased him. “It would.”
“Then we’ll do it.”
Relief and joy. Hanzo collapsed onto the floor. His grip on Reiko slackened. He wanted to go to sleep. Did she say ‘we?’
“Reiko,” one of the foxes shouted. “You can’t.”
“What, Togasa?” she slid away from Hanzo. “Do you think that we can survive here? We rarely see travelers these days. Our skulk hasn’t born children in years. We are dying. At least in Edo, there is a chance. There’s a chance for happiness. Maybe we can even find redemption.”
Reiko’s voice was fading into a hollow whisper but Hanzo had to clarify this last point. “If you’re all coming along, and let me just say that I’m perfectly okay with that, there will have to be some rules.” Words were difficult to find and even more difficult to form. “If you have to do this sort of thing to people, at least pick someone who deserves it. A gangster, a particularly stuffy samurai, an untouchable, or a greedy boss. Leave the good ones alone. There are so few good people, you know, that I don’t want to be responsible for killing any of them.”
“If that’s your wish,” Reiko said. “I’m sure that in the city, there are plenty who are more than worthy.”
“This is not a good idea,” Togasa said. “We are better here, away from humans.”
“Then how shall we feed? Are we to rely on deer and birds like common foxes? That was the way of the Akazora skulk and what became of them? They lost their immortality. They can’t even speak. Togasa, this is the only way. It’s what we have all discussed and this is our only chance. You know that I’m right.”
“I know you’re right,” Togasa growled. He paced nervously about the walkway. “You’re always right.” Then, to Hanzo, “Do not break a promise to nogitsune, human. You will wish that we had eaten you.”
“Oh, no,” Hanzo muttered, “I would never go back on my word.” He hoped that all of this would be over soon. He wanted sleep.
Togasa sighed. “Very well, sister. You are the leader of this skulk and I will follow you despite that I think this is a mistake.”
The others agreed.
Hanzo slipped away.
When he awoke, he was in his compartment. With the illusion gone, the room wasn’t much more than a few rotting beams and gray floorboards exposed to a bright morning sun. The reality of the place jarred him.
“You’re awake.” Reiko was by his side dressing his wounded ankles. She had once again assumed her human form.
The site of her filled Hanzo with satisfaction. “I can’t imagine a life without you.”
Reiko smiled. “Togasa and the others are gathering supplies for our journey to Edo. They’ve packed a few sacks of rice and are bringing along gold that we’ve gathered over the years. We leave tomorrow morning if you’re up for it.”
“I am. What about Raven?”
Reiko looked away. “I’m sorry, my love,” she said. Her eyes swelled with tears.
“He’s dead?”
Reiko nodded.
A rush of grief forced tears from him. “Did you eat him?” He was embarrassed by the hysterical pitch in his voice.
“I would not sink so low,” Reiko said with a bit of pride. “But the others did.”
“Because you cared about me,” he sobbed.
Reiko hesitated. “Yes. I’m truly sorry and I can only hope that you will forgive me.”
Hanzo rolled onto his side, wincing at the pain that went through his legs and arms. “I can’t be mad at you,” he said. “You’re too important to me. But it will take time. He was my friend, you know. One of the few.” It was too hard to say any more.
“I understand, my love. I can’t make up for what has happened here, but I will make sure that the rest of your life is happy. You will be going into Edo a married man with a small fortune and band of loyal retainers. You will achieve the recognition you deserve. Children will ask, ‘Who made this building?’ and their parents will answer, ‘The great Ichiro Hanzo.’ You will be remembered, Hanzo. You will be loved. I promise you that.”
Source: Royall Tyler, Japanese Tales (New York: Pantheon, 2002)
Copyright © 2008 by Sean Hower
