Thinking back, there had only been a small period of time when the relationship between Naoe and Takaya had been a gentle one: the few months after their reunion, when they been like an innocent child and his guardian.
That was the first time Takaya had had someone like that in his life. Unable to trust either the mother who had abandoned him or the father towards whom he felt nothing but hatred—unable, indeed, to trust anyone, a man like Naoe had been worthy of wonderment. There really are adults like that in the world, he’d thought.
As he had grown accustomed to a space of unconditional protection where he could be safe, he’d felt the stubborn walls around him melt away.
Sometimes, Naoe’s back reminded him of his father’s when he’d been young: affectionate and trustworthy. Naoe had the warmth of that father whom he’d adored. He was calm when he had Naoe with him.
Perhaps Naoe had only been able to be like that with him because he‘d been ’Ougi Takaya’: a senior high school student who’d known nothing of their four hundred years together. And because Naoe had treated him like a boy whom he had just met and who needed his protection, who carried none of the fetters or emotions of their past, they had been able to face each other. ...That was probably why he’d been so gentle.
The more Takaya had recovered of ‘Kagetora’, the more Naoe’s pain had revived.
Perhaps ‘Kagetora’ was the very name of his suffering.
If he had never recovered ‘Kagetora’, could they have retained that gentle relationship?
Had Naoe, too...wanted that?
Was that what Kagetora had hoped for?
Looking back, it had been such a happy time.
But that gentle interlude had been no more than a brief dream when he’d closed his eyes to pain. He and Naoe had both suffered too much for it to heal their souls. Those with power and those without. The victors and the defeated. Naoe’s love had always gone hand in hand with his jealousy and inferiority complex. That was why his feelings were so strong.
Could they never reach a mutual understanding? Never forgive each other?
He’d thought about it countless times.
Yet now...
Perhaps even that pain could no longer be recovered.
The longer they lived, the deeper their unease. The longer their road, the more a need to make eternity a reality drove Naoe into extremity.
He feared tomorrow.
Tomorrow he might leave.
Four hundred years proved nothing. If a feeling that had continued over four hundred years ended in the next instant, it came to the same thing. Nobody knew what tomorrow would bring. Naoe would probably start chasing after someone else in the next instant. His sense of defeat was invisible. It had neither volume nor rank. If Naoe himself stopped obsessing over it, he could easily end the race.
He wanted to elevate these uncertain uncertainties into an ‘omnipresent relationship’. To do so, he was prepared to go to any length to preserve their ‘champion and challenger’ status.
He did not have the power to bind Naoe to him for eternity. He didn’t possess such blazing charm or strength, and it was because he knew these things that he was afraid. He had never had the leeway to confess to his insecurity.
He could not allow Naoe to surpass him. If he did, Naoe’s feelings for Kagetora—that yearning, that passionate craving, would fade. In his disappointment and pity he would seek someone else to love. ...He would be exiled from the core of Naoe’s affections.
Love itself would perhaps not die altogether. It would become familial, as it had been during their reunion: a soft, gentle, mild relationship that could last forever. People had no choice but to choose this course even if all passion was sacrificed for the sake of survival. In order to spend long, long years together. Sacrifice was necessary for people to live side by side. And what could be offered but that irrecoverable passion? That insane power, that unending cry of desire?
It was impossible for a human being to seek something all their life long, to pursue it to the very moment of death. It must be realized, or it must be thrown away. One must resign oneself to the things beyond one’s reach. Resignation was wisdom; it drove home one’s failure. In the final analysis, most people wanted quiet and peace of mind. But how much true ‘peace’ did those things really offer? Were they not mostly beautifully-adorned ‘compromise’ to avoid the debts incurred?
I am weary of yearning, of this pursuit; please release me—to obtain such a prayer to an invisible someone...was like a justification.
(Even though...) Takaya murmured to himself, standing in the wind across the castle moat, (I’m probably the one...who wants justification the most.)
A familial love. Though he sought the boundless gentleness and caring therein...
(Yet...)
Caring alone could no longer sate this hunger. Its prolonging had turned it into a deep craving. If he was not yearned for, passionately desired, he would die. He was beyond help. Within his soul was an insatiable craving that he could do nothing about, a fire that could never be quenched: raging. Heavily, thickly, deeply, violently.
A hunger like a black hole.
For four hundred years he had wanted and wanted and wanted to be filled so much that his soul had been altered and begun to reek. This hunger could not be sated no matter how much it was given.
Perhaps, in order to bury his expanding unease as year piled on year, Naoe’s attachment had had to increase in density and acceleration at the same suffocating rate or even above it.
(It’s impossible for a person to want that...)
There had to be a limit somewhere...
A psychological limit...
But the ravenous heart alone knew no limit.
What was the true shape of this hunger?
Why did he want that existence to the point of insanity?
Without Naoe his own existence was anxious and fearful to the point of death. If there was no one to tell him he was ‘right’, he could find no rest. He wanted proof. Proof that he was right in how he lived and thought. Naoe validated him with body and actions. He resisted defeat and made every effort to surpass him, and by doing so testified to Kagetora’s worth. Kagetora looked upon words and surface presentation with suspicion, but Naoe humiliation was no lie. There was no deception in it. Because he was naked, he could be believed. That was why Kagetora needed him: so that he could accept himself.
He couldn’t do without Naoe. The humiliation of such a man was a recognition of his own worth.
(Can I never accept myself by myself...?)
What was this profound dependency?
What could he call it, if not dependency?
(Am I unable to accept my own rightness without someone else telling me so...?)
He had no confidence in himself. He was obsequious beyond all help, too apt to lose his way, too easily shaken. What in the world was he, if he could only find certainty in other people?
Why to such an extent...?
Takaya laughed with self-pity.
(What conceit.)
His cheeks quivered minutely in exhaustion.
What could he say after all this? A stupefied Naoe had already abandoned him, hadn’t he?
Now that Naoe’s hand had fallen away. Now that he no longer said the words Takaya reached for.
(I’ve probably already lost all my chances...)
“You’ve confused yourself with a counterfeit.”
(Is that my new escape?) Takaya retorted in response to his own thoughts. (You don’t want to accept the reality of Naoe’s disengagement, do you?)
“I will bring you back to the real world.”
(Which...is real?)
It became difficult to breathe. Takaya gritted his teeth.
Don’t avert your eyes from even the smallest doubt, Kaizaki had said. You must not mistake sincerity and obsequiousness.
“Be sure.”
Why had he said that?
“You know.”
(The answer.)
“Ascertain the truth.”
(—Which is reality?)
“You are your own greatest ally.”
Listen earnestly to your inner voice. Accept it.
And you will be able to seize upon the answer.
Takaya reflected on what Kaizaki had said.
He’d been turning it over in his mind since that night. Should he accept his suggestions?
Had he been speaking the truth? Kaizaki had said the answers were inside him. His eyes were clouded by abjection, self-condemnation, and self-loathing as they struggled to determine what was true. He had to clear them away. Takaya knew, however, that that had always been difficult for him to do.
He was searching the thread of his memories for unnatural knots. If something was amiss, where was the beginning...? He’d looked but had been unable to find anything. When he thought over his past, everything was normal.
Nevertheless he tried to believe Kaizaki. But—yes. He wanted to know more.
Why did Kaizaki have what he needed—everything Naoe used to have?
There were probably others who had it as well. But. Did that mean it didn’t matter to him who he was with?
What was his faithfulness toward Naoe? What was Naoe to him? What was faithfulness towards another people? Did it come to an end once Naoe lost what Takaya needed? Didn’t that make it the ‘betrayal’ he so detested? How was that different from breaking up due to disappointment? What was his love for Naoe? Wasn’t he now the traitor?
(Enough...already...!)
Stop driving yourself into a corner, Takaya begged himself.
His eyelids fell in his exhaustion.
(What is...an ‘omnipresent relationship’...?)
When it crumbled so easily?
But that was why he wanted it.
(Has it...crumbled...?)
No! cried a voice from somewhere in his heart.
“Remember.”
Takaya opened his eyes wide.
“You’re the only one who gives me life.”
Naoe was the only one who could say that.
He could say it because he was Naoe.
He knew it very well, didn’t he? No one could replace Naoe.
No one could be his substitute...
He knew that better than anyone, didn’t he?
(I have to make sure...)
Takaya looked up at Kumamoto Castle
’s tower rising above the beautiful stone wall, overshadowing all.
He wanted to know the truth.
From that beginning—
(I will make my decision...)
If this was to be his last wish, so be it. If something was amiss, he wanted to figure out for himself where the truth was. Even if he was denounced as a coward for it. Even if he was ridiculed for mere evasion. Whatever happened, let the truth win out.
What came afterwards...
He couldn’t even think about right now.
Takaya looked up at the sky. He chanted that man’s name toward the sky like a prayer.
The north wind blew even colder through the streets.
As Takaya passed through the hotel entrance and stepped into the lobby, the sight of a familiar figure in a black suit leapt into his vision. Takaya’s eyes widened.
The man immediately noticed Takaya. He rose from the leather sofa and called his name: “Kagetora-sama.”
Takaya’s eyes closed a little in pain as he recognized the figure whose existence had occupied his mind more deeply than anyone else’s for the last four hundred years.
(The truth...)
He craved it.
And now...
Fuuma Kotarou had arrived at the hotel about an hour before Takaya’s return.
It had taken him about a week to deal with cleanup for the E Island case, after which Takaya had directed him to assist Ayako in Fukuoka—where he should be now. He had ostensibly come to Kumamoto to give his report.
Takaya was somewhat surprised; he hadn’t expected Kotarou to come for a visit on his own initiative. “We can’t talk in the lobby,” he said, and invited up Kotarou to his room. Kotarou followed his lead.
Takaya didn’t seem to have changed. As usual, he spoke little to Kotarou, and only of the necessities. But Kotarou could see that he was tense, and it made him suspicious.
As they stepped into the elevator, Takaya inquired, “It looks like the E Island cleanup is over, then?”
“Yes. I will give you a detailed report in your room... Takeda is starting to move toward Bousou. Chances are they plan to bring the Miura territory under their direct control. But there is one thing that concerns me.”
“What?”
“We are as yet unable to ascertain the whereabouts of Kaizaki Makoto, who was in the upper echelons of the Satomi. Haruie has confirmed he was on E Island that night, but he completely disappeared afterwards, and we do not know where he is. Our subordinates are currently searching for him, but—”
“... I met him today.”
Kotarou peered at Takaya in surprise. “Met? You met Kaizaki Makoto? Here in Kumamoto?”
“Yeah...”
“He’s in Kumamoto? Unbelievable...but why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s plotting. He said he’s working with Takahashi Jouun.”
“Takahashi...Jouun”
“Takahashi Jouun is the name of one of Ootomo Sourin’s retainers. He was lord of Chikuzen’s Iwaya Castle, and he, along with Ootomo Sourin’s right arm Tachibana Dousetsu, were widely known as brave warriors. After Dousetsu’s death, he shouldered the considerably diminished Ootomo alone and waged a ferocious battle against Shimazu Yoshihisa’s Satsuma army of 50,000.”
“Ootomo...Sourin...”
The Ootomo Clan was called the conqueror of northern Kyuushuu. During the Sengoku Period, Shimazu, Ryuuzouji and Ootomo entered into a three-way power struggle for supremacy over Kyuushuu after the destruction of the famed Oouchi and Shouni clans.
For a time, Ootomo Sourin ruled over six provinces from his home province of Bungo and boasted of being the strongest of the Kyuushuu. The basis of that strength was economic—from international trade; Sourin’s foresight surpassed that of all other daimyo in the Sengoku. Above all, he was blessed with highly capable retainers. Tachibana Dousetsu and his adopted son Muneshige; Muneshige’s biological father Takahashi Jouun... They were all famous commanders, talented and valiant, and their support raised Ootomo to the position of Kyuushuu’s strongest.
No wonder Takaya’s face looked so stiff. He had never even imagined a connection between Mikuriya Juri and Ootomo.
“Ootomo Sourin, in Kumamoto...”
“Tachibana Dousetsu, celebrated as an avatar of the god of thunder, currently commands Ootomo. His son Tachibana Muneshige has also been resurrected. They and Takahashi, who was with Kaizaki, are all kanshousha. I don’t like this lineup. We should probably prepare for a major battle.”
“...”
Had allied himself with Ootomo?
He‘d been wondering where Kaizaki had disappeared to since the ’Rite of Passage to Hell’ on E Island; to have him appear here and now, of all things...! A man of the modern era and a descendant of the Satomi, he had decided to join the «Yami-Sengoku».
Was he seeking asylum? Or was there some other...
“I don’t get him,” Takaya muttered, leaning against the wall. “He betrayed Satomi and saved me... He’s somehow willing to be my ally even though he’s with Ootomo. I have no idea what he’s thinking. He’s the most irksome of opponents.”
“Saved..? Do you mean he’s the one who gave us your location?”
Takaya looked grim. Kotarou had never met Kaizaki face-to-face. But he knew Takaya was rather obsessed about him.
There was something else he was concerned about: the handwriting on the message card.
As Takaya had also noted, it was very like Naoe’s. He was naturally very familiar with the features of a writing he was imitating, and it was quite similar. If it was Kaizaki who had told them Takaya’s location, then the handwriting was also his.
“Naoe is alive.”
“He said to wait for him...”
Takaya had said something that like after he’d met Kaizaki.
(Does that man have something to do with Naoe?)
He didn’t believe Naoe was alive. In fact, he was sure Naoe was dead. Naoe shouldn’t have had the power to perform kanshou. He’d confirmed Naoe’s death with his own eyes. He’d cremated Naoe’s remains.
His thoughts raced. Even if Kaizaki was Naoe, he recalled that Kaizaki and Ayako had already met. Even if for some reason she couldn’t tell whether or not he was Naoe, she would’ve been at least able to sense whether or not he was kanshousha. ...And Kaizaki was not kanshousha.
Takaya’s words and actions were cause for concern. If it had something to do with Kaizaki...
(What is his objective...?)
“...”
Kotarou came back to himself when he noticed Takaya’s gaze on him. Takaya’s stare was watchful. Kotarou softened his tone. “What’s wrong?”
“...Nothing.”
The elevator arrived on the tenth floor, and they got off. Back in his room, Kotarou asked room service for two cups of coffee while Takaya changed. Takaya sat down on the sofa in his usual jeans.
“Let’s hear it.”
Kotarou began his report on cleanup for the E Island case. Keibu Real Estate had hurriedly withdrawn from the island; it had never had much business merit. The police had promptly taken the president and top management away; the company was in upheaval and was preoccupied with the much bigger problem of its own precariousness. The Special Inquiry Division had assigned all of its agents to the Satomi investigation in the immediate aftermath, but since the Satomi were no longer in this world, progress was unsatisfactory. Kotarou et. al. judged that they were not a pressing concern.
Takaya listened silently. If this were Naoe’s only role, Kotarou would’ve been able to play Naoe to perfection.
His report on E Island complete, the topic shift to their current case.
“You’ve probably already already heard from Haruie, but—” he prefaced.
He and Ayako were looking into four strange disappearances in the heart of Kyuushuu.
Hakata, Kurume, Beppu, and one instance in Tokyo. Four young men and women in their early twenties and thirties had disappeared under similar circumstances within the past month. The odd thing was that all the disappearances had had something to do with fire.
They’d been present during the outbreaks, but had been nowhere to be found after the fires had been extinguished.
It was as if they‘d been burned to nothing by those flames. Most of the incidents had occurred at the victims’ homes; all were small fires started in the room occupied by the victim at the time. Perhaps they had set the fires themselves—rumor was that the police suspected nervous breakdowns, but investigation had turned up a point of commonality.
“...They’re cult members?” Takaya repeated, and Kotarou nodded gravely.
“They’re called a cult because they’re not a registered religious organization. It’s a branch of Shintoism, and though it claims to be new, it was actually handed down from ancient times. It originated as a distinctive creed with the village as the unit of worship.”
“A distinctive village-based...”
“Yes. Their practices are more like customs and have been observed in their families for generations; thus they do not seem to have gained an increased or widespread following. Their headquarters is in Hakata. The religion was born elsewhere, though it left its birthplace a long time ago. There are around 50-60 adherents. To put it baldly, their activities are if anything family-oriented; they’re secretive and operate on a humble scale.”
“Secretive...huh?”
“It’s called the Himuka cult,” Kotarou recited emotionlessly. “We know only the roughest outline...however, its enshrined deity is Takeiwatatsu-no-mikoto. It worships fire, and its birthplace is said to be at the foot of Aso.”
“Aso? ...Takeiwatatsu-no-mikoto?”
“Yes. Takeiwatatsu-no-mikoto could be called the core of the twelve gods who opened up the Aso frontier in the Aso legends; he is the main enshrined deity of Aso Shrine. They celebrate with a distinctive festival. The faith has been carefully passed down through the generations for a long time.”
“Fire... Those fires...” Takaya muttered as if the word were a key, propping his chin up with his hands. “They disappeared...?”
“Haruie is continuing to gather information from their families. I’ve heard one thing more.”
“What?”
“A peculiar eye-witness testimony.”
“Eye-witness testimony?”
“From the neighbor of the fire in Kurume. Though the police laughed it off.” Kotarou lowered his voice. “He said the missing person flew into the sky from the site of the fire.”
“Into the sky? This person flew?”
“Yes.” Kotarou nodded with extreme gravity. “Out of the fire into the sky. The witness found it difficult to believe, but it was what he saw; he said the person in question even appeared to sprout feathers before rising into the night sky without a sound and flying off toward the southern mountains—that was what this witness told me.”
Takaya pointedly raised his eyebrows, looking dubious. “What in the world is that about?”
“We are currently investigating the particulars. As soon as we comprehend the situation better, we will inform you.”
“...” Takaya brooded for a little while before finally responding with a nod, “All right. I’ll leave it to you, then.”
“The fact that it’s Aso it worries me. I don’t think it’s related to the «Yami-Sengoku», but I want to know a little more about this Himuka cult. Please continue with your investigation.”
“Of course.”
“Well then,” Takaya said, standing, and Kotarou brows twitched.
“Kagetora-sama...”
“I assume you’re leaving now that your report is one? Your business here is concluded, right? I’ll walk downstairs with you.”
“...”
“That was your only business here, right?”
Kotarou’s eyes widened. Takaya really intended to see him off. Naoe no longer spoke about anything but official matters, and Takaya now seemed to be endeavoring to keep his responses mechanical as well.
“Kagetora-sama...” he addressed Takaya, but could not seem to find words after that.
“...” Takaya waited for a moment for his further response, but understanding that there was nothing more, he cast his eyes downward in something like resignation. Finally he walked to the door and opened it was if to say, “Go.” Kotarou helplessly stood and walked out.
As they exited into the hallway, Kotarou said, “... Can’t I stay for a little longer?”
Takaya’s shoulders jolted. “Naoe.”
“I came to see you. Can’t I stay for a little while longer?”
Takaya was visibly shaken by this totally unlooked-for request. He’d been given the plea he’d been waiting for. His bewildered eyes wavered, but his self-protective heart, fearful of further injury, came to the forefront. Takaya forced himself to turn his back.
“No. I’m busy. You need to get back to your investigation imme...”
He trailed off. Kotarou abruptly seized his shoulders, turned Takaya back to face him, and took him tightly into his arms.
Takaya’s eyes opened wide in shock. “Wh...?”
Kotarou’s arms held Takaya firmly. Takaya held his breath as he was hugged tightly against that solid, wide chest. He stood motionless in Kotarou’s arms as if he couldn’t quite understand what had happened.
At last Takaya looked up at Kotarou’s face, so shocked that his expression was surprisingly like that of an innocent child’s. Kotarou silently looked back at him. At the moment Takaya open his mouth, Kotarou brought his face close and covered his lips.
Takaya’s eyes bulged in astonishment. The kiss was quiet and unhurried. There was no roughness. Only an extreme coolness.
“...”
Takaya half-closed his eyes. He pressed against those lips out of his own volition for just a moment, but it soon withered. Knowing that his impulse of a moment ago would not be revived, Takaya’s arms fell loosely to his sides as if they’d gone numb.
The kiss went on for a long time despite being nothing but cold.
Takaya, who waited for Kotarou to stop and draw away of his own accord in the chilled atmosphere, was the first to close his eyes.
Kotarou watched, waiting for Takaya’s reaction.
At last Takaya looked directly up at Kotarou once more and asked in a low voice, “Have you even forgotten...how to kiss?”
Kotarou’s blankness cracked. Takaya quietly looked at Kotarou, so pitiful in his naked shock, and stepped out of his arms. Then, giving him a final look over his shoulder, he disappeared through the door.
Kotarou stood frozen in the hallway for a long time.
What had happened...?
A single step forward felt too heavy, and he stopped.
Why did he feel like he was falling apart?
Because his impersonation had failed? Was his shock due to the defectiveness of his art coming to light?
His actions had been planned. He’d intended it from the start. Kotarou had come with the intention of sleeping with Takaya, should time and circumstances permit.
His words of a moment ago hadn’t been a lie.
Kotarou really had come to Kumamoto to see Takaya.
Three days ago, High Priest Kennyo had approached Kotarou to sound out his intentions and request a vigorous reinstatement of Houjou in the alliance.
As a first step, he’d insisted Takaya must be won over for the battle of Kyuushuu—that was what he had come to tell Kotarou.
“Go to Kumamoto to meet him.” he’d added.
He felt it was time, in other words.
In any case, Kotarou must become Naoe completely and make intimate contact with Takaya without arousing the least suspicion.
Kotarou knew there had existed a sexual component in Naoe and Takaya’s relationship. Naoe had pursued it many times, and based on Takaya’s manner of speaking, he wanted it too.
If necessary, Kotarou had thought. At certain points, Takaya’s words and actions had indicated that he had sensed the masquerade to some extent. Kotarou had to avoid his impersonation coming to light at any cost.
Having resolved to do the work of reinstating Houjou, Kotarou had to remain Naoe for now.
He could not have Takaya becoming aware, and he would consider any means necessary.
(If Naoe sleeps with Saburou-dono...)
He’d decided he would, too. If that would make Takaya recognize Kotarou as Naoe. If that would remove his doubts. He believed he had to sleep with Takaya to tie Takaya to him.
Kumamoto was under martial law. It may be possible for kanshousha to remain here, but this was an extremely dangerous place for possessor spirits like Kotarou. That he’d risked it was partially in response to the Ikkou Sect’s request, but more than that—
(I must maintain contact with Saburou-dono as much as I can right now.)
He had to be ‘Naoe’ now more than ever. He’d cut off the long hair he’d maintained like an accessory. The kiss earlier had been calculated from every angle.
But it seemed the more he tried to be Naoe, the more Takaya sensed something wrong. Like that kiss. If he didn’t try to initiate deeper contact, he wouldn’t be exposed, but he also became less and less Naoe-like. It was a contradiction, and it was the truth.
You wanted to become Naoe, didn’t you?
Yes, he wanted to become Naoe.
Nay, it was his duty to do so.
He could mimic all his external attributes. But there was a limit that was difficult to evade. He could not mimic feelings. Kotarou had no choice but to acknowledge that fact.
He knew that in order to copy Naoe’s behavior, he had to feel the things Naoe did. Emotions were not copyable. It was like not being able to understand someone else’s pain unless you had felt those same emotions. No matter how well he performed the impersonation, someone who knew the real person would always be able to distinguish between them. For Kotarou, that was Takaya.
(What should I do...?)
He couldn’t see Takaya like Naoe saw him. True, he acknowledged Takaya’s talent. One would expect it of Ujiyasu’s son. He was magnificent.
But he didn’t see himself as inferior. He didn’t feel a desire to either win over him or compete with him. He felt no urge to compare themselves in the first place.
(He’s a person I need to protect.)
When he thought of Takaya, what came to mind was his ‘brittleness’, which was in extreme contrast to his iron determination during the execution of a mission. He felt no contempt for such. Everyone had their own weaknesses. And this volatility in him aroused a strange protectiveness in Kotarou. That was all the feeling Takaya aroused in him.
(I can’t think like Naoe.)
Was this the critical deficiency?
The feelings he could not attain no matter what?
He hadn’t forgotten Takaya’s gaze so full of strong emotion. That which had been impelled from Naoe, brought forth in his passion, inspired by Takaya—was something Kotarou didn’t have.
When he thought of it, Kotarou felt oppressed, as if his chest were blocked up by heavy stones.
(Is this what one would call an inferiority complex...?)
This feeling like lead settling into his consciousness...
(What Naoe has...and I do not?)
The more he saw Takaya, the more conscious he became of that existence called Naoe. The two of them occupied Kotarou’s brain. No, heart.
(An I jealous of Naoe...?) Kotarou asked himself.
“Have you even forgotten...how to kiss?”
(Why...)
“Kotarou-dono.”
An unfamiliar man accompanied by two others was waiting for Kotarou as he stepped off the elevator in the lobby.
He came back to himself at the sound of his name. Kotarou’s shoulders jerked as if an enemy had exploited a gap in his armor; he revealed a surprise that was very unlike him.
(Who...!)
The man in the navy-blue suit smiled at Kotarou’s guardedness as he walked up to him. He seemed not at all wary.
“It’s me. Don’t you recognize me, Kotarou-dono?”
Kotarou frowned doubtfully—then his eyes widened. “You’re...!”
As afternoon drew closer to evening, it became quite cold outside.
The north wind was stronger now as it swept past the garden, lightly ruffling the surface of the pond, throwing its reflection of the artificial hill into disorder. Few tourists remained in the approaching dusk.
The Suizenji Jouju Garden had been created by the Hosokawa family during their governance of Kumamoto-han as an official leisure garden, and was arranged in the Momoyama promenade garden style. It was a scenic location representative of Kumamoto, and stood alongside the castle as a famed sightseeing spot. The garden was spacious and rich in beautiful scenery, with landscape architecture reproducing the Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaidou, and certainly worthy of its fame. The pond’s spring water came from Aso’s underground, and its clarity was why the city was celebrated for being the Capital of Water.
The man he had come to meet arrived at the appointed time.
Kaizaki Makoto rendezvoused with him at the main gate, and they walked together through the garden to the ‘middle ground of past and present instruction’ erected at the edge of the pond.
“Kumamoto has such beautiful water, doesn’t it?” Kaizaki said, gazing at the pond from the open veranda. “Water was so short this summer 1 that the area around Hakata had a terrible time of it, but Kumamoto never had to worry thanks to the abundant spring water from Aso. It’s certainly quite delicious, don’t you think? Even the tap water tastes different.”
“The tap water in Osaka is so bad that even gargling leaves a disgusting aftertaste in your mouth,” Irobe Katsunaga responded, smiling wryly. In contrast to Kaizaki, he cut such a rough figure that seeing them together spawned a feeling of discomfort. It was obvious his clothes were designed for the outdoors. “Kumamoto is both the country of fire and the capital of water—rather curious, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Exact opposites,” Kaizaki smiled, looking at the artificial hill beyond the pond. Fair skies spread above luxuriant pine trees. It was as clear as if yesterday’s rain had washed away all the clouds from the sky.
“Your mediation with the Ootomo appears to be going well.”
“Yes. I was able to meet with Tachibana Dousetsu. I am now a refugee from Satomi. I have arranged for you to meet with them tomorrow.”
“You’re such a workaholic. Usually such a setting of the stage would fall to a subordinate.”
Kaizaki laughed. “It’s just my nature.”
“How was Kagetora-dono?” Irobe asked, looking at Kaizaki from his seat on the open veranda. “Is he well?”
“...Yes.” Kaizaki gazed at the reflection of the artificial hill in the pond. “He is well. I want him to meet you soon too, Irobe-san. I’m sure he would be overjoyed.”
“I’d want it too, if it were possible. It’s been thirty years since I last spoke with him. I want to meet with him, converse with him, very much. I eagerly await the day.”
“...Of course.” Kaizaki bowed his head deeply, recalling the long days when he hadn’t even known whether Kagetora was still alive. Until the others had reappeared on the scene after kanshou, Irobe had ceaselessly searched for Kagetora alone. Thinking of Irobe’s worry, he felt that Irobe deserved the most reward. Kagetora was like a son to him. His joy at a reunion would be greater than anyone’s. —How painful it was that such a meeting was currently impossible, though he was right there.
“But it’s all right. As long as he is well. When I think about those days, it’s enough for me right now just to know he’s alive,” Irobe said. “Is Kagetora-dono still calling that man from Fuuma ‘Naoe’?”
“...Yes. For him to return to normal is, for now...”
“How do you feel?”
“...”
“It must be painful to watch as a bystander.”
“It’s perplexing,” Kaizaki smiled bitterly. “Am I seething with anger? Am I annoyed? I’m even jealous of him. I don’t understand it. It’s complicated.”
“...If I were in your place, I doubt I could keep my calm.”
“Why would he call a complete stranger that? I want to reproach him. And yet,” Kaizaki said, thrusting his leather-gloved hands into his pockets, “when I recall that it was my death that drove him to it...all feelings of reproach disappear. I can’t blame him.”
“...”
“Deep down I can’t deny that I feel a great joy. If his being driven mad can be taken as proof of my worth. ...That’s what I meant when I said it’s complicated.”
Irobe gazed silently at Kaizaki’s profile. Dry leaves floating in a nearby stone basin drifted across the water from the impetus of the wind.
“Do you intend the remove Kagetora-dono’s auto-suggestion?”
“He can’t be left like this,” Kaizaki answered definitively. “The distortion is exhausting his psyche. I cannot allow it to wear away the lifespan of his soul’s core. Above all, I cannot allow this artificial reality to harm him further. In order to unravel the tangled threads, I must make him locate the knot.”
“You will make him swim against the current of his psyche?”
“... It’s the only way, I think.”
“You can’t predict what will happen.”
“...”
“We have no experience of unraveling an auto-suggestion placed against such a serious wound. There’s no anticipating his state when he is forced to look on his true memory. It may be that there will be a backlash and nothing will change. There is a possibility he will smoothly accept the reality, but on the other hand, I fear he may go mad or go on a rampage.”
“I won’t let him.” Kaizaki declare forcefully. “The situation now is different from what it was then.”
“...”
“I’m alive,” he mused. “I’m alive, and I’m here. That’s a big difference. I will prevent him from going mad.”
“You seem to be quite confident.”
“...” In the depths of Kaizaki’s eyes was a strong determination. It was a look that said he possessed something he would never surrender. When had his expression become suffused by such conviction?
(No...) There had been another time in the past when he’d surprised Irobe by flaunting this strength, before they’d found Kagetora. Irobe and the others had given up hope, but he’d said: if he died while Kagetora yet lived, he would be leaving Kagetora to go on alone—and that, he could never do. Kagetora was alive.
(He hasn’t lost you, it seems.)
In fact, he seemed stronger than before. What was his foundation of self-confidence? What was making him stronger?
Irobe felt as if he understood.
“What happened was your proof, wasn’t it?” Irobe murmured, taking up the ladle placed in the stone basin and scooping up some water. “Evidence of the vast space your existence occupies in Kagetora’s heart. Or do you remain unconvinced? ...Are you still obsessed about victory?”
“I’ve known for a long time that he loves me.”
Irobe reflexively looked up at Kaizaki at his unexpected response. “You...”
“But I also knew the nature of that love. He has always needed me as ‘one who was defeated’. Furthermore, he demanded that I obsess over that loss. He’s the type of person who derives his self-confidence and peace of mind from victory in competition. His constant superiority became the driving force of his life.”
“He loved you as his stepping stone, in other words.”
“You could say that.” Kaizaki looked up at the tips of the pine trees. “That’s my nature. No other man could’ve been so convenient. ...He’s apt to be too severe and undervalue himself. Perhaps constantly winning over me allowed him to finally love himself.”
“You think of yourself as a victim?”
“...No, not a victim,” Kaizaki answered unequivocally. “Describing my feelings like that would truly be shameless. I obsessed over him because my innocent pride screamed. I wanted to surpass him, to be recognized as possessing superior talents. I wanted to jettison the stone weight of him as quickly as I could. It was lust. Self-defense. ...Do I look like the sort of man who would generously allow himself to be a stepping stone?”
“Your lust?”
“An ugly emotion.”
“...”
“Do you scorn me for it?”
“No...” Irobe answered, rising. “I believe I understand your feelings very well. But when you look upon Kagetora as he is, do you still feel the desire for victory?”
Kaizaki was silent.
“I think you’ve done well this year. To be frank, I did not think your leadership would be so flawless. You need not fear comparing unfavorably to Kagetora, whether in judgment or decisiveness or leadership. Even Hakkai has commended you. ...Does that still not satisfy you?”
“...Such an assessment is complicated.” Kaizaki walked to the pond’s edge. “Occasionally I feel uneasy.”
“Uneasy.”
“Things become unclear. I feel as if none of my actions carry my own originality. Even what I regard as my personality feels like his personality. Where does he end and I begin? To be honest, I did not think his influence was so ingrained in me.”
He could see more clearly now that they were apart. In the past, he had asserted his own personality desperately, but when he looked back on himself from his current vantage point of independence, he was astonished by the depth and dimension of that influence on him.
“When I take notice of it, it pains me. I start imitating his actions before I’m aware of it. There are times when I don’t know if the words I’m speaking are mine or his. He’s had an out-sized impact on me. He’s even corroded my individuality. To acknowledge that is painful; I’ve resisted him with gritted teeth.”
“...”
“When he’s not handicapped, I can’t deceive myself that I compare. The superficiality of my discretion depresses me. My judgment and decisiveness fall far short of his. Things he can do without thought are impossible for me. I’m recognizing these things anew. Even if I live for four hundred more years, I’m not sure I can reach his level. It depresses me and triggers a defiance in me. —Even so,” Kaizaki added, “I unconsciously look to him for an answer whenever I’m in doubt.”
To the Kagetora inside him.
Even when they were apart, Kagetora existed and breathed inside his heart like a living thing with its own vibrant life force.
“My heart is forever returning to him.”
“Returning...?”
“I realized it for the first time.”
As if he were a ‘homeland’. He knew now that a person’s existence could be another’s spiritual ‘homeland’.
“It’s probably a mistake to pit one’s merits against one’s homeland.”
“...”
“But as an individual, until I can escape my obsession completely, I must work out a satisfactory answer for myself. If it doesn’t exist within my current horizons, then I must go on until my outlook changes. That’s what I have concluded.”
“Toward Kagetora’s position?”
“...To a place where we share the same view.”
Looking at Kaizaki standing against the wind, Irobe’s face assumed an earnest expression. “You won’t be discouraged?”
“Irobe-san.”
“You over-idealize Kagetora. It may all break apart even tomorrow. When you meet someone who surpasses him, won’t you be disappointed in him? Or stop loving him when you surpass him yourself?”
Kaizaki looked at Irobe with a harsh expression.
“Kagetora himself fears such. Isn’t that why he gave you so little?”
“...True,” Kaizaki answered in a low voice. “As long as I’m a mere worshiper or the resistance, I can’t escape from that possibility. But I’ve taken steps forward. Even now I don’t much understand him. The worshiper can’t understand the pain of the worshiped. To comprehend his pain, I must reach that position myself, feel the same pain within my own skin. Rather than continuing to idealize and revere him without knowing his agony, I want to know the pain of being inside his skin so that I can make all of him more and more profoundly mine.”
“...”
“Disappointment is a product of existing in a self-centered world. I don’t love an idol. I don’t want to boast of loving him with such piddling emotion.”
Indeed, Irobe thought.
Kagetora was the most perceptive person he knew. He felt others’ disappointment in him keenly. He would see easily through someone who was disappointed in him but loved him out of sympathy. His high sensitivity was proof against deceit. He would flatly reject the coddling easy affections of one who renounced him but loved him out of pity. He craved love, but was terrified of it. He feared emotional dependence and violently scorned it.
Yes, Kagetora was the type of person who would rather be injured by the truth than presume upon affectation.
“What of being a stepping stone?” Irobe asked, stern and exacting. “If what you said earlier was correct, then when you no longer feel like you’re defeated by him, Kagetora loses the foundation upon which he has built his self-recognition. What will...happen to Kagetora then?”
Thrust onto the point he had wanted to avoid, Kaizaki’s brows drew together painfully.
“If Kagetora demands that you continue to obsess over your defeat, what will you be to him once you stop doing so?”
“He...” he said and stopped, leaving the word hanging. Kaizaki brooded, his expression clouding.
The dilemma shook his belief in his chosen road at times...
Was this path the right one? Was it true he could not divert from it? Had their relationship not already been in its optimal form? —His silent melancholy profile was one Irobe had seen many times before. When he conquered his own anguish, what would happen to his relationship with Kagetora at that stage? He himself could not predict the result. The uneasiness and doubt caused by that question showed starkly on Kaizaki’s face.
After all, if a perfect answer could be found so easily, they would not have had to suffer for so long...
“You’ll...no longer resist, then?” Irobe asked without reproach. “You’ll no longer obsess over winning and losing?”
“... I’m not sure.” Kaizaki’s gaze fell to the dry leaves at his feet. “Given how fixated I am about my originality, I don’t think I can take a philosophic view of my rivalry with him over our relative merits yet. It’s easy to soften during a temporary peace. But if I give in now, I do not think it would be anything more than compromise. The only way out is through.”
“You don’t actually feel any resistance to Kagetora anymore, do you?”
“...Irobe-san.”
“You don’t feel the antagonism towards him that you did before, but you resist saying so because it has become a part of your identity, no? Are you sure you’re not simply afraid of being released from your obsession?”
“...It’s true the feeling of oppression is mostly gone,” Kaizaki said in a low voice, his gaze falling. “But I believe it’s a consequence of distance. If I were at his side, I could never escape that pain. Some time ago, during the 28 years when I was searching for him, I forgot my sense of humiliation for a short while. But that is not at all the same as overcoming it. When I am apart from him, I think of him with hopeless tenderness; but when I’m at his side, I’m again tormented by my inferiority complex and sense of humiliation, and I lose control of myself. I hurt him. —Even if I can be with him right now without doing so, I can easily imagine history repeating itself. So long as I myself don’t change.”
“If you can formulate your answer so clearly, why are you still wavering?”
“Irobe-san.”
“Why are you hesitating? It is not due to your anxiety for Kagetora alone, I think? Is it not instead because you fear your obsession will vanish? The self attempting to surpass Kagetora lives contently deep inside you. Are you uneasy over what will happen when that intense emotion is gone? You’ve made your fierce opposition to Kagetora your foundation, haven’t you?”
“Foundation...”
“I see no deceit in your bearing. But even though your words are well enough, what will you actually do when you begin to entertain feelings of disappointment and pity towards Kagetora? The less deceit there is in the way you love, the more seriously you are wounded upon the appearance of that which you do not want to acknowledge. Not only Kagetora, but you too will break. Why do the two of you love in such a way as to deprive you both of a hiding place?”
Kaizaki’s eyes flicked up.
“Neither of you will retreat. Both of you brood over your need for each other; just how far do you intend to go? Throwing away your obsession is not degeneration. To step back, to renounce both require courage as well. You have much to gain by doing so.”
“Irobe-san,” Kaizaki said fiercely, “this is how we live.”
“How you live...”
“Rather than gaining much by retreating...both he and I would rather gain the highest height by going through to the other side.” Kaizaki’s tone blazed with conviction. “There are those who may curse us for it, but I don’t want to soothe myself by using ‘much’ as an excuse to stop halfway. I resist and defy because my soul cries out for it. The question of righteousness forms no part of my motivation. It is because I will be crushed otherwise. Because I wouldn’t be able to breathe.”
“...”
“In the depths of my heart I am delighted at his weakening. I am relieved he can no longer threaten me. If he is powerless, I do not need to fear him crushing me. I don’t need to struggle so desperately towards a point above him. ...Can this be called victory even if I were to lose my obsession? Even if the agony is gone it cannot be called true peace at all.”
“You are much too serious.”
"True. I can’t compromise. Before him I can neither compromise nor deceive myself, even if I wanted to. More than anything else, he hates the kind of love that harbors deceit. Hates it more than anything in the world. He cannot be loved except nakedly. He won’t accept or believe in anything else. The sort of cunning which seeks to remain superficial and half-hearted doesn’t stand a chance against
a soul which is the personification of suspicion. Therefore, even if I stopped loving him, I probably wouldn’t conceal that fact—I doubt I could even if I wanted to."
“You don’t think that’s cruel? Would it not be equivalent to a mere fleeting heartless romantic feeling?”
“Maybe it is cruel. But a kind lie will not bury the anxiety of his serious injury. He knows that too. Irobe-san, if I could deceive him with my sympathy, I would certainly do all I can to deceive him. But such things will not work with him. I cannot face that soul unless I stake my entire naked being, lay bare all I have.”
Irobe paled as he listened.
Even as Kaizaki made his fierce declaration, he was aware of Takaya’s contrary wish: the heart that yearned so much for a gentle love that it didn’t care if it was a lie. Its need to avoid further pain was stronger than its need for reality; it wanted to be enfolded in warm wings more than it wanted truth.
His yearning, dying heart.
In other words, it was because he had injured Takaya too much all the while. Kaizaki frowned with pain at the realization.
Here again his desires were in contradiction...
His devil’s advocate self was intolerable. Had he grown so garrulous because he wanted to provide justification for his sense of guilt, even to the point of exhaustion?
Irobe said in a low voice after a silence, “The way you love, both of you, is much too dangerous.”
“...”
“Why must you love in a way that puts in you a hole with no way out? Why do you choose a way of loving like a double-edged sword? It creates nothing. It will only drive you to tear each other’s flesh to pieces. It will not lead to eternity, only collapse. Can the eternal connection you wish for enter into existence without allowing for the give and take of compromise and deceit?”
“Irobe-san.”
“Who do the two of you think you are? Isn’t what you’re doing the definition of white-washing? All this is because neither of you want to accept that you’re growing even uglier, isn’t it?”
“...” Kaizaki’s reaction stopped Irobe’s flow of words. The unexpected misery in Kaizaki’s eyes as he gazed at Irobe made further reproach impossible. “You’re right, Irobe-san...”
“...”
“You’ve just elucidated all of the doubts I’ve carried for so long. I’ve been at a loss too, because who am I to play the sanctimonious devil’s advocate? If it were possible, I too would want peace and comfort even if deceit is involved. To renounce my thoughts, drift along wherever the current takes me—wouldn’t that be nice? I have no obligation to get to the bottom of anything. I could let myself fall into unsightly depravity—why not? If one day I become disillusioned with his charisma—fine. I could conceal it suitably, fawn on him as he wishes, fuck him every day until we both go out of our minds in the insatiable lust for pleasure, fill him to overflowing with kind words; and perhaps that will satisfy him,” Kaizaki said in a single breath, and finally pressed his lips together, closed his eyes, and tilted his head to the sky as if choking something back. —Irobe gazed at him, unable to get a word in edgewise.
“You...”
“Irobe-san.” Kaizaki looked at him. “...Martyrdom is a deformity of the psyche. A love that has no suppleness will only produce ruin and collapse. ...Even so, I aspire to it. Thus I struggle endlessly to make our sworn eternity a reality.” Kaizaki’s eyes locked directly onto Irobe’s. His look was dead serious. “I want to believe in such a love,” he said. But in the next instant he was assailed with negating words. It was intolerable, and Kaizaki shook his head painfully. “Enough...”
“You—...”
“Enough of logic. I’m going in circles, and I’ve had enough. It’s as if I made myself love him because I wanted to become the ideal. I didn’t. I want him. I need him. That’s all. I simply need him. Don’t believe anything else I’ve said. The truth can be found nowhere else.”
Kaizaki’s expression was terribly pained. He more he tried to explain himself, the more he doubted his own chosen path. New misgivings sprouted without number. His expression seemed to beg Irobe not to make him say more.
“Irobe-san, I— No matter the situation, this alone will not change: I need him. That will always be true. From the bottom of my heart.” Kaizaki didn’t look up. The words seemed wrung out of him. “Even now. Helplessly,” he said painfully, as in a confession, and closed his mouth.
Irobe carefully asked in a low voice, “...Have you made your decision?”
“...”
“About the end?”
“I’m not the one to make that decision,” Kaizaki bit out. “He is.”
“...” Irobe fell silent.
The slowly darkening sky was reflected in the mirror of the spring-water pond. Ripples ruffled its vermilion surface.
Comments
Thanks for all your work!
You are steamrolling out these translations! Thank you so much for your continued work. I reread this volume in Quaint_Twilight's translation not too long ago, but in due course, I look forward to going back and reading your translations. You two have different flavors as translators.
I think you mentioned this conversation
I think you mentioned the conversation in this chapter between Irobe and Naoe earlier...I have to admit, at this point I'm skeptical of anyone who claims to have "fatherly" feelings for Kagetora, which implies a condescension towards a 400-year-old man that is very out of place. And really, given the enormous betrayal of trust that Kenshin has perpetrated on Kagetora by establishing the New Uesugi behind his back (of which Irobe is very aware), why would he want to be seen as a father-figure?
It is indeed revealing that Naoe trusts Irobe with perhaps his deepest feelings, but oddly it serves to make me feel more alienated from Naoe and not closer to Irobe. This arc really doesn't do Naoe any favors.
By the way...
I'm curious about the 'different flavors' comment if you'd care to elaborate. Is it a recent thing or does it seem to be inherent? I'm wondering if my skepticism about some of the recent plotlines is leaking through, hahah.
Impressionistic
That was a totally impressionistic comment, especially as I haven't yet read (beyond skimming/scanning) the same chapters in both of your translations. But one difference I note is that I think you are more careful about replicating old-fashioned forms of address in old-fashioned English.
De Gustibus
Sorry for the late reply. I have the feeling the emerging story is simply not to your taste. I obviously hope you will keep translating it, but I understand if you come to feel it's not worth it, and I hope you'll keep the site up.
Mirage is a very odd egg, and large tracts of it just won't appeal to some for legitimate reasons. For example (not saying this you, just an example), there are folks who just don't like dark stories. That is totally valid.
From previous meta chats we've had, I think you and I have different value systems for evaluating people in real life and, therefore, in narrative. I think all the major characters in this arc are sympathetic. You are fed up with at least Naoe and Irobe. We're coming from different philosophies.
I will mount a mild defense of Irobe's feeling like a father to Kagetora, though. I think it's normal for people who had an adult-child/youth relationship when they met to maintain something of that relation. For example, a 60-year-old woman can have an 80-year-old mother. They're both elder, experienced women, but the 80 year old will still regard the 60 year old as "daughter." I'd guess this is all the moreso in Japan, where seniority is so central to social position.
Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you
I actually don't like dark stories, lol, and nor do I like whump, and I see Mirage heading in both of those directions. I admit to feeling a certain literary disdain for torture-porn, which I see as being too excessive to carry its point effectively. I see no point to darkness and whump for their own sakes, just as I don't subscribe to the notion that tragedy is the greatest art form. As a writer, I find it much easier to make people cry than make them laugh, which is perhaps why I value the latter more. Being able to drive a point home through humor is magic.
But that doesn't mean I'm ready to give up on Mirage, so I'm sorry if I worried you. I still enjoy the translation process, and in fact at this point I've finished first drafts for up to mid-Volume 19.
I'm not sure we have different value systems for evaluating people in real life even if we do for people in narrative. I don't think the one necessitates the other. I certainly think about fictional characters differently than I do real people. A lot of the difference we have over Mirage characters seems to come from what we expect of 400-year-old people; I make no beans about my frustration over the lack of insight I feel 400 years should have conferred.
I have to laugh when you say "I think all the major characters in this arc are sympathetic" because I want to write something about how I find most of the characters from this arc utterly unsympathetic. ("The Miike are scum" is probably going to be the title of that post.) You don't have to take me that seriously, though; in part, I'm just letting off steam and amusing myself.
I'll grant you your argument on parent-child relationships (though based on my own experience, it's easier for a closer relationship between grown children and their parents if the parents are willing to adjust their image of their children as independent adults with their own very valid boundaries rather than miniature copies they can order about). On the other hand, I believe my point regarding wanna-be father figures treating Kagetora with condescension stands, and somehow they're always betraying Kagetora while telling themselves they're on Kagetora's side (see also: Motoharu later in this arc).
The other reason this conversation between Naoe and Irobe sits badly with me is: how can they even be talking about this when New Uesugi is about to issue Kagetora with an ultimatum between death and imprisonment?