Kaizaki Makoto was deeply disturbed.
Something terrible had happened.
He’d again woken to find himself in unfamiliar place. Maybe he was still dreaming. But the sensations definitely indicated that this was reality. He wasn’t in his own room. He seemed to be lying in a hospital bed. Why was he sleeping in a place like this?
He immediately looked at his watch. Due to the many times this had happened, this action had become automatic. He peered at the date: February 20th.
“It’s been ten days...?!”
This was no joke. He searched for his glasses in order to clarify his current situation, but they were not next to him. As a last resort he squinted (as nearsighted people tended to do) at the view outside the window, but as he’d anticipated the scenery was unfamiliar.
(It happened...again.) Kaizaki Makoto shuddered. (The other me took over again.)
Horror and despondency swooped down on him, and even his shoulders felt heavy. As usual, his memories of the in-between time was virtually nonexistent. He’d been in his own apartment in Chigasaki
. ...How many times did this make?
(I must have done something totally nonsensical again.)
And it must’ve been horrible enough this time to finally put him in the hospital.
“Aagh...” Makoto let out a hopeless groan.
He no longer doubted his own freakishness. It was incontrovertible.
(Spare me...)
He felt like praying.
These past few months, he’d been haunted by another Kaizaki Makoto. A split personality, he supposed. During unconscious states, he acted like a totally different person. Though his memory had days-long, weeks-long gaps, the people around him claimed that he’d been up and about per usual when he’d asked. He’d heard about things like this happening, but he’d never expected it to happen to him. Even his relationships with his co-workers had suffered because of it. Maybe he was having a breakdown due to the many managerial crisis, he thought, and had consulted a doctor, but...
(Where in the world am I...?)
He was on the verge of calling a doctor to ask about the particulars about why he’d been brought in—when the door opened, and a tall woman entered. She was beautiful and had an energetic air about her, but she was unknown to him. She looked at him, and for some reason her face turned forbidding.
“So you’re finally awake, Kaizaki Makoto.”
Makoto was suddenly uneasy. ...Had he done something bad to this woman?
Kadowaki Ayako seethed with anger.
It was understandable, of course.
She‘d left Kaizaki to the doctors’ care when Shimazu Iehisa’s attack had left him unconscious and chased after Iehisa herself, but he’d managed to shake her off.
She’d heard Shimazu of Satsuma’s troops were currently advancing into the area around Higo and were now storming Yatsushiro, but that they had infiltrated Kumamoto City, even on a guerrilla warfare basis, was a bolt out of the blue. ...The Shimazu army’s invasion was rousing onryou from various ancient battlefields in the area, and the casualties were climbing steadily. Kagetora had dispatched the «Nokizaru» and Uesugi soldiers to deal with the situation, but there had been no decisive measure, and tranquilization had not been achieved.
If Shimazu entered Kumamoto, they would engage in a three-way fight with Ootomo and Oda. Tensions were running high among the nearby onryou. If the barrier came down and Shimazu troops surged into the city, the streets would be transformed into an onryou battlefield.
Ayako had not anticipated running into Shimazu, and was thus in a lather.
But there’d been at least one silver lining. She’d learned that the man and woman who had accompanied Kagetora were indeed the missing Himuka cultists. She’d shown the doctors and nurses pictures to confirm it.
The woman was Saeki Ryouko.
The man was Enoki Masamichi—the leader of the young believers who’d been such a favorite with Faith-Protector Ikeda.
Saeki Ryouko lived in Kurume. She’d been witnessed flying away from the fire. She’d been positively identified.
From the looks of it, there was little doubt they were the ones who’d abducted Kagetora (’s corpse?)
The only odd piece had been the driver of the hearse. He’d confirmed that Takaya had been in the car, but he had no memory of where they’d gone. Upon regaining his senses, he’d found himself on National Highway 57 near Tateno heading toward Kumamoto. Nobody had seen who had removed the corpse. There the thread had been cut.
(National Highway 57.)
It led into Aso.
(But even knowing he’s in Aso...)
As Kaizaki had suggested she’d called out to Kagetora many, many times, but had no sense that she’d ever reached him, and had received no response. She was stuck, and had returned wondering if this man knew anything more.
Why had the Himuka cultists helped Takaya? Why had they found it necessary to lie about being family to take his corpse (which Ayako still didn’t believe?)
“What the hell do those Himuka cultists want?” Ayako demanded, glowering at Kaizaki Makoto. “If they have something to do with the «Yami-Sengoku», where are they from? You told me Kagetora fought Shimozuma Rairyuu. Did the Himuka cultists help Kagetora because they’re his allies? Or...”
“Excuse me... I’m really sorry, but...” Makoto commendably interjected from the bed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I seem to have caused a lot of problems, but I... Um, I don’t actually know you.”
Ayako’s eyebrows jumped up. “What...?!”
“I’m so sorry. I know I’m in your debt for any trouble I caused. It’s just that I, I don’t even know where we are.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?! You’re in the hospital. Shimazu blasted you and you lost consciousness. Did you hit your head and forget?!”
“Shimazu? Did I have some sort of fight with this person?”
“?”
Ayako’s eyes widened. His reaction was odd. Makoto thought hard for a moment, but he finally stopped and gave another hopeless sigh.
“So this time I had a fight while I was out? ...Unbelievable.”
“I haven’t understood a single word you’ve said.”
“I’m sorry, but could you tell me where I am? Right, I know this is the hospital, but what about prefecture and city... or town, probably? What is the address?”
Ayako was bewildered. Was he playing dumb? She was about to yell at him, but Kaizaki looked so serious that she stopped.
“What in the world are you...”
“I know you have a right to be angry, but I really am not fooling around. I don’t know your name, but you probably have something to do with the other me.”
“Th...the other you?”
“Yes.” Makoto pressed both hands against his forehead. “I don’t know if you can believe me, but I think I’m sick. I’m not sure how to explain it—I think it’s called a split personality. While I’m asleep, another consciousness takes control of my body, and I act like another person entirely.”
“You...you think I’d really believe a thing like that?!”
“This is a difficult situation...I’m not really sure what to do.” Makoto pondered with furrowed brow. “Will you call my family doctor to confirm, then? He knows me well, and I believe he’ll know that I’m telling the truth. He’ll be able to explain the symptoms to you as well,” Makoto said. He took up the notepad beside the bed and began to write.
Huh? Ayako thought. Something was different from yesterday. (He’s left-handed...?)
She was sure Kaizaki had held the pen in his right hand last night. Even the handwriting was different. The characters he inscribed on the notepad were long and narrow, slanting leftward, somehow giving the impression of a nervous temperament.
“Please call this number.”
Ayako hurriedly compared the note he handed her with the note from last night. They were completely different. Both the handwriting and the styling of numbers. The numbers on the new note looked digital. The two handwriting styles indicated completely separate personalities.
(What is going on...?)
“Oh. Not again,” Makoto suddenly muttered, looking at the watch on his left wrist. “Damn it. I’m left-handed, so I wear my watch on the opposite wrist from most people. But the other me appears to be right-handed. It just feels wrong to me.”
He took off the watch, looking exhausted. She realized that his speaking style was different. The utterances of the Kaizaki she knew had depth. Now he talked too fast and sounded extremely bureaucratic. There was no lingering reverberation at the end of his sentences. Yet he didn’t sound histrionic or affected.
“What is going on here...?” Ayako was bewildered. “You really have a split personality?”
“It’s true.” Kaizaki nodded heavily. “Can you please tell me where I am? I would like to contact my doctor and co-workers.”
“We’re in Kumamoto.”
“Kumamoto?!” Makoto’s voice jumped an octave. “Kumamoto—the Kumamoto?! In Kyuushuu?! What in the world... I can’t believe I traveled such a long distance. What in the world is happening? What the hell is going on?!”
“You really don’t remember anything?” Ayako peered at Kaizaki with increasing concern. “Not even about the «Yami-Sengoku»?”
“Yamisengoku... What is that?”
Ayako stared at Kaizaki, half stunned. “Then you don’t know me either? Or Ougi Takaya?”
“Ougi... Takaya...?” Kaizaki put his hand to his mouth and ruminated. “That name...”
“You know Kagetora?!”
“Ougi Takaya...” Makoto reciting the name several times as if to sound it out. “Ougi... Takaya... I don’t know who that is, but... Somehow... I feel like I’ve said that name many times before.”
“What does that mean? Why?”
Makoto grew more and more agitated as he repeated the name. His face suddenly became uneasy, and he pleaded, “Who is that? Do you know this person? Is that the name of the ‘other me’?”
“No. No, it’s not...”
“For some reason my chest feels so...”
Tight and obstructed. Could these be lingering emotions left by ‘other him’?
“Ougi...Takaya...” Kaizaki pondered, trying desperately to wring some information out of the name. Ayako examined his face, awaiting his answer, but he could grasp nothing concrete. “How am I connected to this Ougi Takaya?”
“....” Ayako was a bit creeped out. (This guy is really weird.)
Actually, he’d been weird from the beginning. His actions at the rocky stretch on E Island had certainly been so. Yup, there’d been something wrong with this man from the start. There was something about him...which was especially evident when it came to Takaya.
He was the one who’d confined Takaya. And after that Takaya had started acting strangely. He’d glared at Ayako with real feeling when she’d joked that the bruises on the back of his neck looked like hickies. His reaction had been so disproportionate that it had made her even more suspicious. From that time onwards Kaizaki’s name had become taboo for Takaya. He always overreacted whenever the subject came up. Then afterwards he would look pained and mope.
(Why...)
Then there was yesterday. Why had Kaizaki tried to help with Takaya’s disappearance when he was working with Ootomo...?
“Just who the hell are you...?”
Ayako was on her guard. She didn’t understand anything about Kaizaki. She knew he was genuinely perplexed, and it creeped her out even more.
This man...called him Takaya. Ayako knew one other person who did so. And Takaya had cried when Kaizaki covered him with his coat.
(It can’t be...)
Was it just coincidence? No, there was something there. It explained things.
(I’m overthinking this.)
But they’d searched so hard and had found nothing. He’d been so weak. He would have needed a miracle. And besides, Kaizaki’s split personality was not due to possession. There was only one soul within this body. Plus, she would have immediately recognized his soul.
(Just a similarity?)
Maybe it wasn’t such a surprise that a person of the modern era used by Satomi would have a split personality.
She recalled something strange Yagami had reported after the E Island case: the suspicious way in which Satomi Yoshitaka had vanished. The energy signature in the place where Yoshitaka had collapsed had been exceedingly similar to that left behind by «exorcism». Also, at the time—
(Kaizaki wasn’t on E Island...!)
“Could it be...” Ayako moaned.
Kaizaki suddenly lifted his head. “Could it be...what?”
“Kaizaki, if you have a split personality, then change places with the other you right now. Have him come out.”
“I can’t... not from my side.”
“Other Kaizaki! If you really have a split personality, come out right now!” Ayako suddenly seized his collar, startling Makoto.
“Cease this violence! It’s no use!”
“I need to know! Kaizaki Makoto, just what the hell are you...?!”
“Cease...this...violen...!”
“You! Are you...?!”
Kaizaki’s body twitched. What? Ayako thought. An instant later Kaizaki’s fist drove into her solar plexus.
“Guh...” Ayako moaned, collapsing face-down onto the bed. Kaizaki’s expression had already changed into someone else’s.
The other Kaizaki had appeared.
“I’m sorry...” Kaizaki said in the low voice Ayako recognized. “Stay in Kumamoto. The barrier point Kiyomasa erected at Honmyou Temple is beginning to crumble.”
“Kai...”
“Iehisa appears to be on the move. Shimazu’s forces will be here soon. I don’t know what will happen to Kumamoto if the barrier falls. The streets will become an onryou battlefield.”
“Why...did...you...”
Kaizaki’s gaze softened slightly as he went down on one knee beside Ayako. He gently placed his large hand on her head.
He told her quietly, “I know where he is. He is not dead. I will bring him back.”
With those words Kaizaki quickly stood. He retrieved his coat from a hanger and put it on, re-clasped his watch on his left wrist, and hurriedly left the room.
Ayako shut her eyes in pain. Tiny tears formed on her lashes.
(...Na...o—...?)
His footsteps finally faded down the corridor.
Kaizaki Makoto emerged onto the main street and hailed a taxi, quickly giving the driver his destination.
“Tateno Station, and quickly.”
(That was quite an embarrassing defeat.)
Synchronization was difficult within a barrier, unsurprisingly. Kaizaki sighed in frustration. To have been struck unconscious by Shimazu Iehisa...
(Haruie’s realized, if vaguely.)
Well, fine. With Takaya immobilized, the old Uesugi would not be able to function smoothly. Kaizaki was the only left to give directions. Either way, all would be revealed soon enough.
(... I wonder what answer you’ll give, Haruie.)
His synchronization had been disrupted due to his concentration on reaching Takaya telepathically. Takaya had responded to his call. The Gohou Douji he’d sent to search for him could not approach due to a barrier.
(Damn it...!)
Kaizaki gnashed his teeth. No matter much much power he obtained, how studiously he played devil’s advocate, the truth was that he’d failed to protect Takaya. This one man. What use were these powerless hands? If he couldn’t save him in reality, he had nothing. Hadn’t he been happy when he’d been able to make his body a shield, despite being crushed? Despite their mutual loathing?
(No...!)
He was not wrong; he would save Takaya, Kaizaki told himself—as he had many times before. He could do it. No, he had to do it.
(If I don’t, then I have no right to this new lease on life.)
When he closed his eyes, he could see Takaya screaming. In dread and irritation Kaizaki bit the joint of his finger.
(You can’t right now, Takaya-san...)
If he tried to sail against the current of his psyche and something went wrong, it would break apart. Though his call couldn’t reach Takaya, Takaya’s fear and dismay reverberated in him. The fact that he could sense it over such a distance meant that Takaya’s anxiety was intense indeed.
(You must not probe any further.)
“I want to wake myself up by my own power.”
But Takaya didn’t know that to do so was fraught with catastrophic danger.
(I will not allow you to fight alone.)
He didn’t know what he could do for Takaya. But his first priority was to be with him, Kaizaki thought with determination.
(I don’t care about logic.)
Quibbling about logic was all very well, but he had to go to him—that was the greatest power this body was capable of.
Even if he could be of no use whatsoever in Takaya’s chosen fight, he wanted to be with him, grasp his hand. Even if he could not shoulder any of Takaya’s suffering, he could hold him in his arms.
(How can I be your strength?)
He could no longer look on from afar. He could not condemn Takaya for even his self-inflicted suffering.
(You saved me.)
His second chance, his strength.
(You gave me that,) he murmured inside his heart, softly closing his hand over the ever-lingering warmth of his skin as he submerged himself in the memories.
“Naoe...”
How completely he’d been saved that one short night.
That night Kagetora had saved him from the ‘mistake’ made by a great many people. He’d never realized before how anxious and afraid his feelings had made him.
How could he ease those concerns? I never wanted to scare you—but was he capable of saying those words?
(I wanted you...from the bottom of my heart.)
The ‘weakness’ of his refusal to turn around for fear of loss; the ‘unfairness’ of a desire for eternal worship, everything. As he held Takaya in his arms, he had wanted with tempestuous intensity to take even the vilest, most unredeemable parts of this being into himself.
(Extinction must transform into something else.)
It was Kenshin who had bestowed on him another chance at life. That was why he was working to carry out Kenshin’s commands. ...Yet, It was Kagetora who had given him the strength to live again.
Given him the strength to rise from his grave on their unfinished journey.
Utopia is not yours alone, but ours, Kagetora had said.
The same Kagetora who’d said he believed in nothing, hoped for nothing...
Those words had given his dying heart a last burst of strength...
“I can’t trust you...”
Naoe wanted to heal Kagetora’s pain, to peel away the many layers protecting his heart and know the innermost parts of him, but at his core Kagetora had always rejected him. His own ‘irredeemable egotism’ (loathing for a superior being, the groveling disposition of a loser, a belligerent persecution complex) had prevented him from approaching the parts he should have healed.
Despite his obstinate rejection, Kagetora had cried with even greater intensity: “I want to be healed.”
(I’ve...known all along.)
Kaizaki shut his eyes painfully and tightened the fists on his knees.
(I will change, I swear it.)
If to throw away his ‘irredeemable egotism’ meant ‘death of the self’, then he wouldn’t. I’ll embrace it and change into someone with the power to heal you.
(I’ll turn this egotism, too, into the power to heal you.)
That was how he chose to love.
It had to be possible.
Because he had chosen to live again to make that transformation a reality.
(I won’t let you fight alone.)
Kaizaki gazed out the window, praying that he would be in time.
There was a break in the line of cedars along the avenue as the national highway continued onward to Aso’s outer crater rim. The car followed it straight down with the valley on their right. He’d traveled this same road a long time ago.
About thirty years ago, in fact.
It was here in the Aso mountains that they’d gone to ground in order to protect Minako from Oda.
Just before that final battle, Naoe had left the front lines by Kagetora’s command to escort Minako to a place where their enemies‘ eyes could not reach. Kagetora himself had recognized that she would be his Achilles’ heel in battle.
“I don’t want her involved,” he’d said, and commanded Naoe to guard her.
Nagahide and others had vehemently objected to Kagetora’s decision to remove one of the Yasha-shuu from the front lines. But Kagetora had stood firm. He had then caught on to and put a stop to Nagahide’s plan to murder Minako. That was one of the reasons for Nagahide’s long absence.
His hostility had not been toward Nagahide alone.
His relationship with Naoe had been icy for a long time.
“I entrust Minako to you,” Kagetora had said, that day he’d summoned Naoe. “You I can trust.”
But his eyes had said, as always, “I can’t trust you,” even while he’d issued his commands.
Naoe had not stopped speculating about his true motives since that day. Maybe he’d meant exactly what he had said. Or it had been his conclusion upon performing an analysis of their fighting power. Or it had been an act of malice. Had there been a hidden objective? It had felt like a trap.
It probably had been a trap.
It had happened here in Aso.
This was where he had done those terrible things...to the woman Kagetora loved.
Naoe had never atoned for those crimes.
Snow was falling in Aso. The trees of the outer rim wore a heavy white coat, but the roads appeared to be unaffected.
“It’ll be heavy going tonight,” The driver commented after listening to the forecast. “City cars don’t do well in snow, and if it piles up this road’s going to be congested something fierce. Not enough people put on chains...”
Kaizaki looked up at the heavy gray clouds.
(Snow, hm...?)
Snow had fallen just like this that day, too.
The car turned right off the national highway and descended toward the valley on a narrow hill road. Located in a gap in the outer rim, Tateno was right at the junction of Southern Aso Railway with JR’s Houhi main line, which served northern Aso.
The taxi arrived in front of Tateno Station.
A familiar 4WD was parked there awaiting Kaizaki.
“Kaizaki-sama...!”
A man in a duffel coat got out and waved at him: Hakkai.
Kaizaki alighted into into cold snow fluttering down from the sky.
Sunlight pierced through a gap in the clouds and glittered silver on a tranquil ocean almost complete devoid of waves.
He felt as if he were looking at a lake. Beyond the Ariake Sea, which might well be mistaken for a wide river, rose the silhouette of a tall mountain.
“It’s gotten a bit misty,” Irobe Katsunaga commented to the girl beside him as they walked from the ferry boarding entrance to the wharf.
“That’s the Shimabara Peninsula over there. The hill before that is Mt. Mayu, and the tall mountain beyond that is Unzen Fugen Peak. Shimabara City lies before it.”
Irobe had come to Kumamoto’s new harbor, about thirty minutes out of Kumamoto City by car.
Passengers bound for Shimabara had begun to embark at the wharf. It took about an hour to reach Shimabara Harbor on the opposite shore by boat. The direct distance was approximately twenty kilometers, so it was closer than Aso.
The ferry landing had only recently been completed, and the new waiting area had an adorable roof made of triangles of various sizes. Though there was still some time until departure, a group of passengers rushed toward the wharf. Irobe looked after them for a while before returning his gaze toward the ocean.
Far off in the distance, smoke rose from Fugen Peak, blending into the clouds so that it was impossible to tell where smoke ended and cloud began.
“Fugen Peak has calmed a great deal, but it’s unpredictable. Did you know that the mountain around it is a dark reddish-brown? It was covered with greenery long ago, but pyroclastic flow burned everything.”
“...”
You could spot the traces of the disaster even from across the sea. The smoke had decreased a great deal from its most active period, but there were still days during which ash fell within Kumamoto City depending on the direction of the wind.
Irobe turned to the girl, a petite student in sailor uniform.
It was Mikuriya Juri.
She was gazing out at Fugen Peak with arms crossed; she said after a moment, “Shimabara is a place of deep significance to us early Japanese Christians, Irobe-dono.” She pointed to a distant island on their left. “Those are the Amakusa islands. Amakusa might be called the capital of the early Japanese Christians, since that is where ‘Superior Almeida’ propagated his teachings. Almeida-sama was close friends with my lord Ootomo Sourin, and he visited Usuki many times. It was also where Gakurin was located, which made it all the more the Christian capital. Until it was officially made a prohibited religion, that is,” Mikuriya Juri added, the smile disappearing from her lips.
The storm of oppression against Christianity also devastated Shimabara and Amakusa. Crucifixion and torture to set an example... Indescribable brutality—suspension over pits, torture by fire and water, confinement, maggots hatched to eat into people’s stomachs—with children included in the deaths. All the martyrs had died believing they would go to Heaven.
Countless believers had renounced their religion in the face of intense oppression and horrifying torture.
“Those were not things done by human beings,” Mikuriya muttered somberly. “Those who committed those acts were demons.”
“...”
What dark experiences lay in her past? Mikuriya’s glassy-eyed, tight-lipped expression was like that of a bitter old woman. This was so far from her usual manner that Irobe looked at her askance.
Irobe, of course, knew of that era. He’d seen crucified Christians with his own eyes, and had heard many more gruesome stories.
“Julia-dono...”
She abruptly returned to herself at the call of her name. Mikuriya shut her eyes and sighed deeply.
She took several old coins out of her pocket and showed them to Irobe. They were bound by a string through the holes in their centers.
“This is?”
“It’s called a money buddha. This is how it works.” she said, and hung the six coins from their connecting string. She then tied the string so that the coins formed a cross.
“A rosary...”
“This was something carried by the underground Christians. Normally they were just coins; only when we prayed did we spread them out.”
This was how the Christians who went underground to escape oppression preserved their faith. They carved crosses into sword guards, small accessories, walls and pillars, and worshiped in secret. The Maria Kannon was also one of these objects. These were some of the many and varied ways through which this underground faith had kept itself alive.
Amakusa had had many families of these early underground Japanese Christians which had passed their beliefs from generation to generation after the prohibition and until the Meiji era. They had appointed leaders called water-minders in place of priests to perform baptisms and lead ceremonies. But the passing of ages turned the litanies of prayer into meaningless mantras, and the religion itself unmoored from Christianity and transformed into a bizarre local cult.
“...” Mikuriya quietly closed her hand over the ‘money buddha’, her expression brooding.
Announcement of the ferry’s departure reverberated around the harbor, followed by a steam whistle. The passengers had finished embarking. Juri waited until the sound of the whistle faded and only the slap of the waves remained before adding to Irobe, “Did you know that I am Sourin-sama’s second wife? I was originally his first wife Jezebel-sama’s lady-in-waiting. He divorced her because she obstinately refused to convert to Christianity.”
“I had heard that she belong to the Nata family, who served as chief priests of Nata Hachiman Shrine.”
“Yes. She could never convert because she came from a family who were chief priests of Hachiman, the god of war.”
Jezebel was the nickname given her by the Jesuits after her death. She was said to have been a bad wife.
“But it was understandable. My lady was the wife and daughter of Sengoku commanders. She couldn’t have abandoned her belief in Hachiman, the god of war.”
As a result Julia herself had been detested as a husband-stealer...
Mikuriya Juri sighed deeply and cast her gaze across the ocean at Fugen Peak with its rising plume of smoke. Her eyes then slowly traversed the boat.
“Where is Supreme Commander Naoe-dono now?”
“In Nikkou. He has entrusted this entire operation to me, Irobe Katsunaga.”
“I see. I was astonished by your alliance gift of Ryuuzouji Takanobu’s head. What magnificent command. Now Ootomo can enter Saga without difficulty.”
“Higo has now been isolated from the other territories under Oda’s influence. When Kiyomasa is gone it too will fall into our hands.”
“Yes, if all goes well. Look,” she said, pointing toward the Ariake Sea.
Irobe looked in that direction. Far ahead of the ferry he could see an indistinct object like a ball of fire. Irobe strained to make it out more clearly.
“Sea fire? Is it really appearing in the middle of the day so far from Yatsushiro?”
“It’s not any sea fire. Look more closely. That is a Shimazu boat.”
“A Shimazu boat?!”
Irobe gave Mikuriya a surprised look. She nodded.
“Now that they’ve stolen Yatsushiro, Shimazu’s forces are maneuvering to invade Kumamoto by land and sea. You can see their flag: a square cross in a circle. That is their scouting vessel.”
She had apparently spotted it a while ago.
Mikuriya stared across the ocean with grim intensity. Irobe finally realized: (I see...)
He now knew why Mikuriya had called him out here. As commanding officer of Kumamoto, Mikuriya was reporting on the movements of the Shimazu navy to Uesugi’s envoy. She herself was an outstanding commander. Her face as she spoke was that of a cool and collected strategist. Irobe’s expression turned solemn.
“What measures do Ootomo intend to take?”
“The Ootomo navy has not yet arrived. It is engaged in battle with Chousokabe in the Genkai Sea and cannot be moved. ...We can hold the land route all the way to Saga, but we are requesting a navy to assist us with the sea route.” Mikuriya looked straight up at Irobe. “We would like Uesugi to provide us with naval reinforcements.”
“Naval...”
“Yes. We have a little time. Can you do it?”
“...We will make every effort to assist. But it will only be a matter of time before Shimazu enters the Ariake Sea.”
“We will shut Shimazu out,” Mikuriya said with confidence. “We will use the Five Bridges of Amakusa to blockade the channel and prevent them from entering Shimabara Bay.”
The Five Bridges of Amakusa, called the Pearl Line, were immense bridges of great symbolic significance that connected the Amakusa Archipelago to the Kyuushuu mainland.
“Similarly the great bridge over Amakusa Strait to block Hondo Strait. And lastly we’ll establish a wall to blockade the Hayasaki Strait between Shimabara and Amakusa so that no Shimazu ship can enter Shimabara Bay.”
“Wall? Who will be able to accomplish such a thing? Unless I’m mistaken, you do not have a single Ootomo soldier on Amakusa.”
“My brethren are there.”
Irobe did not at once understand Mikuriya’s meaning, but then his eyes widened. “You can’t mean... the spirits of those who died in the Shimabara Rebellion on Amakusa...!”
“I will resurrect the spirits of Hara Castle.” Mikuriya looked toward Shimabara Peninsula with a faraway gaze. “Do you know what binds the hearts of people together into a great power, Irobe-dono? Faith. In the Sengoku, bonds between parents and children and lords and retainers were virtually nonexistent. Faith alone bound people strongly together. Those who came to violent ends in that infamous uprising were my brethren. This bond is far stronger than the hostages and interests that are used to weld alliances together.”
“...Julia-dono...”
Mikuriya raised her rosary from its place against her chest and gripped it tightly in her small hands.
“The Amakusa-Shimabara Rebellion was at its core an uprising led by Christian farmers against tyranny and oppression. Amakusa Shirou-sama and many of the fief’s population fought believing that our Lord would help them. After a three-month siege, none found salvation except in being called to Heaven through death. Yet their spirits remain on this earth. Were they too sad, too bitter? They didn’t go to Heaven.”
“...”
“This land of Kyuushuu is dotted with numerous spirits of martyrs. I think these spirits did not ascend to Heaven after death because their faith was insufficient. They must be desperately calling out the name of God from beneath the ground. Yet still they are denied Heaven.” Mikuriya looked straight at Irobe. “I will create a kingdom for the spirits of the old Christians in Aso and convene them there. The «Golden Serpent Head» summons spirits. With it I can gather those who have become earth-bound. I can call to the dead languishing beneath the earth and incite them to come to the place of prayer once more. All will repent of their sins, pray, upraise their faith, and this time go to Heaven.”
Irobe silently looked at Mikuriya Juri as she gripped her rosary tightly and spoke with passionate conviction. Her goal was a paradise for the resentful dead—that was the Aso kingdom she spoke of.
She would erect a barrier over the Aso caldera and create her own country.
“... So that’s what it is.”
Was Mikuriya’s goal, to put it in their terms, the purification of the spirits of her brethren?
(No...) he thought, looking at the ‘money buddha’ in Mikuriya’s hand—that was not all. She had deep-rooted convictions.
Why was she carrying a ‘money buddha’?
“Julia-sama, I believe you said your name was Otaa?”
“Yes.” Mikuriya turned to him. “Julia is my Christian name. Why do you ask?”
Irobe lightly shook his head. “It’s nothing... It may be a coincidence, but do you know of someone with the same name as yourself—surname Otaa, Christian name Julia?”
“What. No—where was she from?”
“She was Lord Konishi Yukinaga’s adopted daughter. Lord Yukinaga brought home with him a girl who was orphaned in the Imjin War. She received a Christian baptism and subsequently was in Lord Ieyasu’s retinue.”
“Oh?” Mikuriya’s black eyes grew round. “Lord Ieyasu’s...”
“Yes. She did not renounce her religion after the prohibition and was exiled to Kouzu Island. Even now there is a festival on that island which is associated with her.”
“...”
A dark shadow suddenly passed over Mikuriya’s eyes.
She lowered her expressive eyes and finally smiled.
“I see. So she didn’t become an apostate.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing...it’s only a coincidence that we share the same name...” she said, grasping the money buddha tightly.
(I see. This woman is...)
“The demon serpent’s eggs implanted in the students of Old Castle High School will hatch in a day or two.” Mikuriya’s expression had already returned to that of the student council president. “The suggestions I’ve applied will gather the fighters hatched from the demonic serpent at the school in their assigned order. The ’iron student council’s training is flawless. They will be a magnificent and disciplined castle garrison corps.”
Actually, the already-hatched students had been gathering at the school since last night. The uniformed students assembling deep into the night had exceeded two hundred.
Koganezawa Kyouko was among them.
Even Mikuriya, who had addressed the late-night student meeting, had been captivated by their splendid discipline. Old Castle High School’s uniform had become their combat uniform.
“Yokote no Gorou will have taken command at the school. This is the result of six months of effort. The «Golden Serpent Head» is gaining in strength in concert with us. All that’s left is to excavate the object itself, and I will be the master of the serpent. With it under our control, even Shimazu’s hoards will present no difficulty.”
“...”
“The construction of the «Destroyer of Provinces» also goes well. Look here.”
Mikuriya’s attendant passed Irobe a newspaper from that morning. The front-page article took up much of the page and reported on the explosion of a cement-manufacturing factory in Fukuoka.
The accident had occurred yesterday. The plant had suddenly exploded, resulting in major and minor injuries to several employees caught in the blast.
“This is...”
“The cement factory were the accident occurred is located at the foot of Kawara Peak, the same place where Ootomo’s strategic Kawara Peak Castle once stood.”
“Kawara Peak Castle...”
This castle, called the most strategic location in Buzen, had been the site of ferocious battles between Ootomo, Mouri, and Shimazu during the Sengoku. Kawara Peak was formed from three peaks, and was an ancient copper-mining spot where bronze mirrors and the like had been discovered. The first peak now held a lime-mining operation for use in concrete, and was only half the size and a mere shadow of its former graceful self. The flattened mining surface rising in a perpendicular precipice of bare white rock presented a bizarre spectacle.
“Kawara Peak was once a battlefield. The mountain is steeped in the deep-seated grudges of warriors who died in regret. What will happen when the stone and copper containing massive amounts of this resentment are made into a great cannon?”
“So that’s the cannon «Destroyer of Provinces»...!”
“Yes,” Mikuriya smiled. “This resentment appears to have activated in the cement factory and exploded. Tachibana Dousetsu-dono is even now engaged in the construction of this cannon at Kawara Shrine. The eight-headed, eight-tailed serpent and the «Destroyer of Provinces»: these are Ootomo’s ultimate weapons. Neither Shimazu nor Oda will be a match for us. Rather, we shall bring the fight to our enemy,” Mikuriya stated with confidence, looking up with resolute eyes. She faced the Shimabara Peninsula on the other side of the sea.
Irobe looked up from the newspaper, looking tense.
The horn of the boat crossing the Ariake Sea sounded a low note within the bay.