They stayed at a hotel in Toyama City
that night. For the next two days they would be thoroughly canvassing the Ecchuu area for onshou activity. The Oda and the followers of the Ikkou Sect were currently glowering at each other in the North-Central region. There had been skirmishes, but nothing eye-catching as of yet.
Takaya had grumbled about the hassle, but had consented to the plan as soon as Naoe had promised to treat him to three delicious seafood feasts. Now that he thought about it, the Kagetora of old had been partial to sashimi as well, oddly enough.
He was slightly concerned about the expense, but decided to view it as an investment in his lord, and did not neglect to make reservations (and in fact felt rather happy as he did so).
By the time he finished up at the front desk and returned to their room, Takaya was already dozing. The television was on; he had been watching the sports news after taking a shower, but it was already over, and the next program was now playing. An opened beer can stood on the nightstand. (There he goes again...) Naoe shook his head, smiling wryly, and called, “Takaya-san. Takaya-san, please pull up a blanket if you’re going to sleep, or you’ll catch a cold. Takaya-san.”
“Mmm—...” Takaya mumbled, stirring and turning over, but didn’t open his eyes. He had not even put on the yukata laid out for him after his shower, and had only a towel draped across his shoulders. He would certainly feel chilled soon.
“Takaya-san!” Naoe repeated in exasperation, but Takaya was already fast asleep. “Guess there’s no help for it...” Naoe muttered, and lifted Takaya in his arms.
“Takaya-sa...”
His heart lurched.
Takaya’s head tilted slightly back at the motion, and suddenly he was looking upon another time, a different scene. Naoe’s heart gave one horrified wail, and he lost all composure. He shook Takaya wildly.
“Ta-Takaya-san! Please wake up! Takaya-san, Takaya-san!”
“Mmn—...” Takaya opened his eyes sluggishly and looked at him. “Huh? You’re back?”
“If you’re going to sleep, please put on your yukata and pull up a blanket, or you’re going to catch a cold.”
“Chuunichi and Hiroshima, who won...?”
“I have no idea.”
“Mmmph,” Takaya mumbled, crawling beneath the blankets still half-asleep, and immediately dropped back into a sound slumber. Abruptly drained of all energy, Naoe slumped onto the other bed. The noise of the TV intruded into his consciousness, and he shut it off from the switch beside the bed. The faint sound of cars passing by outside was audible as quiet settled within the room.
He should have gotten them both singles, Naoe reflected. He exhaled deeply to calm himself.
(He is much too unguarded...) Naoe thought, turning the blame on Takaya, before picking up the half-finished can of beer next to him and taking a gulp. Takaya, completely unaware of Naoe’s agitation, was soundly, sweetly asleep, his face as carefree and innocent as a child’s.
(Just looking at it is enough to make me happy...)
Such an unlikely description truly applied to Takaya’s sleeping face, though to be told so would probably only anger him and land Naoe the accusation that he was treating Takaya not only like a child, but like a baby. But at least for now he was deep in slumber.
Naoe’s eyes suddenly clouded over.
(He is frighteningly unguarded with those he trusts...)
That had always been the case. His complete lack of defense against those in whom he decided to place his trust had always worried Naoe. And the breadth and depth of his wound once betrayed was terrible to behold...
Yes, he had trusted Naoe.
How much time and struggle had it taken for two former adversaries to reach that point?
Kagetora, the general at the head of the enemy forces, whom he had driven to his death. How had Kagetora come to trust his despised foe...?
And—
When had he come to revere this man? His earnest gaze, his incisive, unyielding will, the keen sensitivity enfolding an easily-wounded heart...you, who are so much a double-edged sword...
Even as I blamed myself for the blade I once turned against you, the blade that resulted in your death, far stronger than the guilt I bore was my desire to protect you...
It had not taken so much time. And he had believed that his place would be at Kagetora’s side for the whole of his existence. Had held it as his pride.
And yet that passion to protect had transformed into ugly ego...
The past still strangled his heart in rusted chains of memory.
(I never wanted to betray you.) Naoe stared down at his feet. (I simply could not bear to have you be stolen by anyone...)
He repeated the excuse he had told himself again and again as he gazed at Takaya’s still form. He was here, now, where Naoe could touch him if he but stretched out his hand...
If he softly stood, knelt by Takaya’s pillow, slid his hand beneath the covers...a touch would surely scatter his reason to the winds. Even now his fingertips tingled with the feel of Takaya’s cool skin, arousing thoughts that drove his mind to distraction. If the one lying there were someone with whom it could be allowed, he would already have given in, brushed a trail down that expanse of skin with his lips as a prelude to the satiation of his desire.
He wanted to monopolize him, every second like this, always.
Each time they met those feelings surged, crested, higher and higher.
“...”
He checked his outstretched hand and pulled it back into a fist, laughing softly in self-derision.
(What a fool I am...)
For he could never have what he wanted...
Oh, what relief it would be if he could rend this passion from his heart, uproot every last trace of these feelings which were the source of his suffering.
(This mere delusion—)
This twisted desire could not be anything else. Swallowing the words he had repeated to himself times beyond counting like an aspirin to the heart, he rose as if to reassure himself that he was still in possession of his reason.
He leaned his arms against the cool window glass and gazed down at the night view of Toyama City.
(I cannot believe in it...)
A self-mocking smile touched the corners of his mouth. —Ah, yes. He held no conviction that either love or sincerity lay within him; what he felt was only a raging, beast-like desire—
Such a thing was not love.
It was merely the spurious product of a perverted consciousness, a delusion born out of the unbearable, incessant pain that had warped his soul during his too-long existence.
This could not be love...
(You damned lunatic...) he cursed himself, and a sardonic smile twisted his lips. He looked over his shoulder at Takaya.
You know nothing of my true self. That’s the only reason you would allow yourself to be so unguarded in front of me.
He probably never had the qualifications to be at Kagetora’s side. Guardian and protector though he might call himself, he had never been able to simply watch over his lord. He was not such a great-hearted man. He wanted to think that living through four hundred years had made him a better person, but however much he wanted enlightenment as an escape from his torment, he had never been able to relinquish the endless cycle of pain and joy and anguish that was human life.
He had once thought that after living for four hundred years, he could become a sage or some such holy man, someone not bound by the earthly desires or thoughts of ordinary men.
But in these centuries without end, he had forgotten even the striving...
The repetition of fake “deaths” had created in him a yearning for the true “death”. In that word laid an unutterable peace, and he thought of it now without fear, with a prayer-like longing. To him, the true “death” was...not the purification that followed the cessation of kanshou; it had come to mean the annihilation of the soul which refused even reincarnation.
(Human beings cannot liberate themselves from the earthly desires and woes of man, cannot free themselves from the Six-Path Worlds.)
He could not escape from pain... Only those fortunate people whose lives were finite could believe in the possibility of nirvana and enlightenment.
Naoe looked at Takaya out of haunted eyes.
Are you happy as you are now...? he asked the peaceful sleeping face.
How could he attain happiness? If he could satisfy this insatiable, boundless lust as he might a starving beast, would he be able to forget?
If I make you a slave to my pleasure, if we fell, even more entangled than we are now, could we erase this endless agony we bear in order to live on?
What did he wish for?
What is it I want, right now, at this moment?
From you...?
Naoe took a deep breath and began to unbutton his shirt in preparation for a shower. He wanted to go to bed as soon as possible, but knew in the back of his mind that he would get no sleep tonight. Perhaps a long draught of whiskey might dispel the feverish heat of his aching body along with these delusions plaguing his mind like a chronic disease.
Such was his thought when—
“?”
The sound of a woman’s sobbing reached him. At first he thought it was coming from the next room, but no— The voice grew gradually clearer. He heard it not with his ears, but with his sixth sense: the voice was coming directly into his mind.
Why had he not noticed such a strong mind-call until now?
The bitter, hate-filled weeping continued.
Naoe looked out the window. Was it coming from outside—...?
“...Mmn...”
Takaya stirred as Naoe made preparations to head out.
“Where’re you going?”
“Ah, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
“No, it’s fine... What the?”
Takaya also seemed to have noticed the sobbing. Naoe replied, looking out the window, “I started hearing it a little while ago, and it’s got me a bit concerned. I’m going to see if I can track down the source.”
“Ah, wait. I’ll come with you,” Takaya said, and began hurriedly putting on his clothes.
They followed the mind-voice towards the west of the city.
“It seems to be quite close, doesn’t it?” Naoe commented after performing a spirit-sensing on the city, his eyebrows drawing together warily. “I can feel a strong «malice». This voice belongs to a spirit, and a strong onryou at that—we should have been able to sense it as soon as we arrived...”
“Is it because we came by car?”
“That should not matter. Being in a car should not affect our ability to sense the presence of spirits. This appears to be one with a large variation in the amount of energy it emits. But what a strong spiritual energy. This is not your ordinary onryou.”
“Could it be an onshou...?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll have to take a look.”
Takaya gave a short sneeze next to him. He must be cold after the shower, standing in the somewhat chilly wind. Worried, Naoe laid his coat across Takaya’s shoulders.
“Are you all right? Your hair is still wet.”
“Yeah... I’m fine...”
It was past midnight, and there were few cars on the road. Tracking the spirit energy back to its source, they cut through Toyama Castle at the center of the city and followed along the tracks of the municipal railway in a direct westward direction.
They had been walking for around fifteen minutes when Takaya said, “Ow... What the hell is this? It feels like someone is screaming with increasing force right into my head.”
“What a strong «malice». I would guess that it’s been causing supernatural phenomenon in the area...”
They were very close. The sobbing had at some point been overwhelmed by the intense «malice». They could locate the source now without any spirit-sensing at all.
“It’s just ahead.”
They were near the Great Toyama Bridge , which spanned Jinzuu River. An esplanade-like path with a row of sakura trees ran along Matsu-kawa, one of its tributaries. They followed it, and saw waiting for them a countless number of kaki.
“What...the...”
The kaki hovered above Matsu River like a swarm of fireflies. The «malice» was so thick in the air that it blocked their path like a wall. The mind-call’s source was just beyond.
Two large Japanese hackberry trees stood at the foot of a small bridge.
“...Eek...”
Takaya’s wobbling feet were perfectly understandable.
For a woman’s head floated there, surrounded by pale flames.
Her hate-filled onryou was the source of the mind-call. A tepid breeze brushed against their cheeks. The woman exuded waves of hatred and malevolence even as anguish twisted her face.
“She’s...”
“A strong earth-bound spirit. I wonder how many centuries she has been here... She is certainly no ordinary spirit. The kaki around her must be onryou like her.”
“What should we do with them...?”
Naoe thought for a moment, apparently finding something here suspicious. Judging from their appearance, the spirits around her were not so old—perhaps only a few dozen years. They were all around the same age—perhaps victims from the large-scale air-raids over Toyama during World War II. Unable to pass to the next world, they must have been pulled in by this woman’s strong spiritual power.
The problem was this central spirit. He had seldom seen an onryou of such strength. She must have died a gruesome death; an unguarded mind would be dragged into her hatred and become deranged itself.
(But she...)
Next to Naoe, absorbed in thought, Takaya suddenly looked up as if he had sensed something.
“There’s «nue» nearby...!”
Naoe instantly went on guard. Peering at them from the shadows of a nearby house was a skeletal warrior. No, not a—several. They were taking stock of the situation, and hurriedly withdrew the moment Takaya spotted them.
“What’s with them? This must have something to do with the onshou after all.”
“But it would appear that they’re not going to attack us. Perhaps they were simply scouting.”
“Scouting this woman’s floating head?”
Still, it didn’t seem like anything was about to happen. The woman’s head, though exuding an intense hatred, did not have the appearance of something about to go on a rampage. Rather, what concerned them was the identity of those skeletal warriors.
“What should we do? Perform «choubuku» on her right now?”
“No. She is a spirit of considerable power, and we will probably fail if we go at it with so little preparation. She didn’t become a spirit just yesterday. Let’s observe the situation a little longer. An attack, awkwardly executed, would do more ill than good. Such a difficult opponent requires that we be thoroughly prepared as well,” Naoe answered gravely. “We should look into this spirit’s background as well. Fortunately, she doesn’t appear to be intent on hurting people—”
“But...”
The skeletal warriors peered out at them from time to time from their hiding places. Looking at them out of the corners of his eyes, Naoe added, “If the onshou’s schemes are somehow in play here, then we must be all the more cautious. Let’s go back for tonight. The spirit’s energy will probably calm come morning. We’ll do a more detailed spirit-sensing tomorrow.”
“All right,” Takaya nodded. They turned their backs on the palely glowing kaki and retraced their steps back to the hotel.
They promptly began with information-gathering the next morning. After finishing breakfast, they started off by asking the hotel personnel some questions.
“Oh, those ghost stories...?”
“Ghost stories?”
“Yes,” the concierge nodded. “It’s become quite the hot topic in the city lately. You’re thinking of the ghost appearing behind the war memorial shrine, right? I guess a lot of people have seen it recently. But I don’t know the details,” the concierge added, scratching his head. “I’ve heard that it’s the spirit of a princess who lived a long time ago. There’s some kind of legend about it. Though I don’t really believe in stuff like that.”
The spirit of a princess? Takaya and Naoe looked at each other. They left the hotel and headed for the site, asking the locals along the way about the story. About half of them had heard the rumors. One of them answered, “Ah, yes. It’s Princess Sayuri.”
The ghost sightings evidently matched a local folklore perfectly.
“Could you tell us more about it?”
The older gentleman, who had been walking his dog at Toyama Castle, hushed the Shiba pulling on its leash at his feet.
“She was the concubine of the lord who governed this area a long time ago. The stories say that he killed her because he suspected her of infidelity...”
“The lord who governed this area...?” Takaya asked, looking up at Naoe. “Who?”
“If we’re talking about the Edo Period...the Maeda governed Toyama... Would you happen to know when this happened?” Naoe asked the man.
“When did it happen? Well, let’s see, I think it was sometime during the Sengoku.”
Naoe started. Takaya looked at him.
“That sound familiar?”
“Ah...no. Thank you very much.”
They thanked the old man and went on their way. Only after they crossed the moat did Naoe speak.
“I have a bad feeling about this...”
“You know something?”
“If the man in question was commander of Toyama during the Sengoku, Kagetora-sama, then it would be Sassa Narimasa.”
“Sassa Narimasa? As in, the guy we fought in Nara...?!”
Naoe nodded and said, gazing at the ducks grooming each other by the moat, “Those skeletal warriors reeked of the «Yami-Sengoku» as well. Though it’s true that this area is currently within the Oda sphere of influence... If this has anything to do with Sassa Narimasa... In any case, let’s take another look at last night’s site,” Naoe suggested, and they retraced their step from last night.
The place was called the “Sandy Basin Embankment”, and the long line of sakura trees here was said to have been planted by Emperor Taishou. The Jinzuu River flowed right beside it, and behind the embankment was the green-mantled war memorial. Residences filled the surrounding area. They stopped a woman who appeared to be one of those residents to ask some questions.
“It’s been happening for about a week, at night. You can see the reflections of floating will o’ the wisps or some such in the windows, and there’d be a...rapping sound? Something like that... And my husband said that he’s seen a floating, freshly-severed head...”
As I thought, Naoe thought, brows drawing together.
“My children are scared, and it’s been a huge bother. Of course I‘ve heard the old stories about these parts, but I never thought that the princess’ ghost would actually still be here, after all this time...”
“Do you know the legend?”
“Yes. The story of the single hackberry tree, yes? About Princess Sayuri...”
“The single hackberry tree? Would you tell us the story?”
The kindly matron beckoned them closer to the site and told them of the legend of Princess Sayuri.
During the Sengoku Period, around the time Sassa Narimasa governed Toyama, he had a concubine called Sayuri, who was said to be a peerless beauty. She was the daughter of a wealthy farmer from a village called Gohuku. Narimasa was returning from a sakura viewing when he saw Sayuri among the people kneeling by the roadside, and he took her as his concubine. Narimasa favored her so much that he never allowed her to leave his side.
The other concubines grew jealous of Sayuri and plotted against her. When Narimasa left the castle on a visit to Tokugawa Ieyasu in Hamamatsu, they fabricated a rumor that she was unfaithful to him. Narimasa flew into a rage and put the man to the sword on the spot. He then hanged Sayuri and her entire family by the sandy embankment of the Jinzuu River and beheaded them. The story went that he suspended the innocent Sayuri from the hackberry tree by her ankles and tortured her before killing her. Ignoring her pleas of innocence in his frenzied rage, he slashed into her body each time he decapitated another of her family, drawing out her death.
The scene was thus recorded in the Taikou Chronicles:
At the moment of her death, Sayuri, her lips bitten through, bloody tears flowing down a once-beautiful face now twisted into a malevolent mask, cursed Narimasa—
“As Narimasa beheads me here, my enmity shall a demon become, to grow year by year until I have killed all thine issue even unto the extinction of thy family name.”
Those watching covered their eyes, and those who heard felt their hair rise at those words.
So Sayuri remained in that place as an onryou after her untimely death. The villagers, believing that the hackberry tree to which she had been tied had been stained by her hatred, became fearful that “those who cut down a hackberry tree will be cursed.” Various ghost stories were told to frighten people, about a will o’ the wisp that looked like a woman’s head appearing on stormy nights, which came to be called “Sayuri Fire” or “Drifting Fire”...
The hackberry tree was burnt down during the air-raid of Toyama in 1945, but a second generation of two trees grew out of the original tree’s seeds, and now spread their wide branches right in the middle of the row of cherry trees.
“Those are the second-generation trees,” the woman told them, indicating the spot where the woman’s head had appeared last night.
Though the ghost was nowhere to be seen, «malice» permeated the surrounding area, and the residue of hatred stained the ground.
The woman went on her way. Takaya approached the hackberry trees, murmuring, “He’s a pretty vicious bastard, that Narimasa. She didn’t even do anything to deserve that kind of a death....” Takaya didn’t try to hide his anger. “I mean, Princess Sayuri told him that she was innocent, didn’t she? So why wouldn’t he listen to her? If he loved her that much, then why didn’t he believe her?”
Pain flashed across Naoe’s face.
“Perhaps it’s when you love someone that there are some things you can’t forgive.”
“Why??” Takaya demanded, glaring sharply at Naoe. “When you love someone, you should believe them more than other people, right? Don’t you think Narimasa was treating Princess Sayuri like an object, like a thing to be owned? Doesn’t that make him just a jealous, selfish asshole? It’s no wonder she hated him after being killed like that.”
Naoe was silent.
He could not bring himself to condemn Narimasa completely. After hearing the legend from the woman, he felt sympathy for what Narimasa must have felt as he so brutally murdered Sayuri.
“Such a terrifying thing is love.”
Takaya looked at Naoe. Naoe laid a hand on the hackberry tree and gazed up at its broad branches.
“Such emotions are not so uncommon...”
“...”
“To want to kill that person with your own hands rather than have them be stolen from you—before they can be touched by anyone else. An intense need to monopolize someone can transform love to murderous rage in an instant...” Startled by the cynical words, Takaya stared at Naoe’s face.
“I would never have expected to hear something like that from you.”
“Is that so? That is only because you do not know me...”
Takaya asked quietly, “Have you...felt that way about someone as well?”
Naoe looked back at Takaya, his eyes slowly narrowing. That startlingly chilling gaze frightened Takaya for an instant.
“How could I monopolize something...I’ve never even been able to touch...?”
Takaya stared at Naoe, eyes wide. Naoe painfully closed his eyes for a moment, then deliberately turned his gaze to the hackberry.
“But I wonder why Sayuri’s onryou would rouse now...? Maybe it has something to do with Narimasa’s rebirth?”
Takaya made no response. He stared down at his feet, absorbed in thought. Concerned, Naoe smiled his gentle, soothing smile.
“...I was joking just now.”
“Naoe...”
Naoe put on his business-like face to check the rest of Takaya’s words.
“We still don’t know the identity of those warrior-spirits. Even if they belonged to Narimasa, they were acting quite strangely—as if they were awaiting someone.”
“... Sayuri’s onryou awakened a week ago, right? Maybe someone’s using her as some part of a plot...”
Naoe glanced at Takaya out of the corners of his eyes.
“Should we perform «choubuku» on her?”
“No, we can do that any time... Let’s get to the bottom of this if we can before we do...” Takaya murmured, when—
“Hmm, you’re pretty easy-going, as usual.”
“!”
They whirled at the interjection, uttered by a familiar voice. Its owner was seated quietly beneath the sakura trees. They had not sensed his presence at all. Both of them exclaimed in stunned surprise as they recognized him: “You...!”
“How unexpected it is to see you here, Yasha-shuu of the Uesugi.”
The handsome, totally unexpected youth smiled sweetly at them.
It was Kousaka Danjou Nosuke Masanobu, vassal of the Takeda.