In any case, they would not be able to make a move unless they figured out what was going on. So Ayako began a detailed reisa within the city the very next day.
Takaya, on the other hand, commenced training to develop his «powers» under the guidance of Abbot Kokuryou.
A training which turned out to be pretty much all discipline.
He‘d been forced to get up at an ungodly hour and sweep the garden and main temple buildings, then impelled to attend morning services after a rushed breakfast without even a ’if you please’. And only when he’d been bullied around so much that he had gone past sullenness to mute astonishment did Kokuryou finally face him seriously.
Seated formally in front of the incense altar, Takaya turned to Kokuryou.
“You see, your edginess means that you do not have the necessary calm. It hardens your heart, and what must come out of you is trapped inside,” Kokuryou explained, and reached out to rub Takaya’s shoulder rigorously with his right hand. “If you shoulder such anger every day, then you will be wasting much of your precious power. The first thing you must do is relax. Prepare your mind to accept all things freely.”
“—”
“All this talk of will-power or supernatural power is very much exaggerated; in reality, all of them arise from the subtlety of your soul. If you should understand the subtlety of all things, if you should become subtle, you would possess it naturally. It is a conversation you have with your own small universe by opening your narrow heart. The obstinacy of your mind as it is now will always keep you from mastery.”
Kokuryou sighed, seeing Takaya’s annoyance at the incomprehensible words. Then his expression softened.
“Ah well, here, you will understand,” he said, and stood. When he returned, he had something like a scroll in his hand.
“First, calm yourself and relax your mind. Now cross your feet, like this,” Kokuryou said, showing Takaya the lotus position. Takaya imitated him. “Good. What we are going to do next is one of the methods of Kanhou, a way to remove all the scattered distractions from your mind by counting your breaths. It is called Susokukan. Besides concentrating your mind, it prepares you to converse with your universe. What you need to do is to count from one to ten, one for every breath you take. When you reach ten, start over again from one. Now—” Kokuryou showed him the unfurled scroll. "It is essential that you contemplate the Aun characters in your mind. When you exhale, imagine the ‘a’ character; when you inhale, imagine the ‘un’ character. Namely, these symbols.
Huge (a) and (un) Sanskrit characters were drawn on the scroll.
“Aun is pronounced ‘a’ and ‘n’. ‘A’ is the sound that comes from your mouth when you open it, ‘un’ is the sound that comes from your mouth when you close it; essentially, these two characters encompass all of existence from beginning to end—in other words, they express everything. The Niou guardians at the door of this temple have their mouths set in the shape of ‘a’ and ‘un’.”
“Okaaay...”
“When you breathe, draw these two characters in your mind. As you do, clear away your idle thoughts and stabilize your consciousness. When you are able to do this, you come to the second level. Kokuryou’s finger glided to the ‘a’ character. ”Next is Ajikan, a type of meditation. Visualize ‘a’ within the circle of the full moon, and perceive that you are one with Dainichi Nyorai—this is one of the truth-seeking methods explained in the Mahavairocana Sutra."
“One with Dainichi Nyorai...?”
“Dainichi Nyorai is the buddha at the origin of the cosmos, and this ‘a’ is the character that symbolizes him. When you view this character, you see the origin of the cosmos—and the foundations of your own microcosm. It naturally holds the power to equalize the flow of blood to every part of your body—that is, it allows you to sense the flow of the unified might of your body and mind when they become one.” Kokuryou smiled slightly. “Continue to repeat until you can control this flow at will. The actualization of your power will also depend on this.”
Takaya was half believing, half dubious, but—
Kokuryou pushed his back straight.
“Good. Now concentrate your mind. Begin by counting your breaths. Visualize ‘a’ and ‘un’. All right? Please close your eyes.”
Takaya memorized the Sanskrit characters from the scroll and closed his eyes as he had been instructed.
“Relax. Breathe naturally. When you breathe out, picture ‘a’. When you breathe in, picture ‘un’. Count your breaths—yes, just let it flow naturally—”
With his breaths he drew ‘aun’ in his mind.
(a)—
(un)—
“Drawing it alone is not enough. You must contemplate it. ‘Breathing’—in other words, ‘aun’. See it in your mind.”
Three—.
Four—.
Kokuryou silently watched over Takaya. It would not be easy to enter that state for the first time.
And Takaya certainly wasn’t particularly used to doing as he’d been told. Because he had to hold those images in his mind, his breathing and meditation remained unsynchronized; rather than relaxing, his shoulders were obviously tensing even further. He was also having a hard time concentrating when he could feel Kokuryou’s eyes on him.
(Why the hell do I have to do this?) he thought half-angrily, but with Kokuryou watching him, he couldn’t just stop. He had virtually no intention of putting serious effort into it—but since he had no other choice, Takaya continued to count, his mind a tangle.
And yet—
After about twelve minutes, something began to change.
(Oh...?) Kokuryou sensed it. (This...)
Takaya himself didn’t notice this transformation. No—he had naturally begun slipping into a meditative state, and couldn’t notice it.
At each repetition of the count cycle, his breathing and aun visualization naturally meshed, and they smoothly flowed together before he was even consciously aware of it.
Perhaps Takaya’s consciousness was now entirely focused inward—that sharp tension of his habitual constant vigilance against the external world had disappeared from around him.
(This is amazing...) Kokuryou sighed deeply in admiration. (What splendid concentration.)
There was not even a thread of disturbance in the air surrounding Takaya.
The restlessness in his posture had completely disappeared as soon as he had entered into meditation.
Kokuryou rolled his tongue in thought. That he had achieved this much in such a short time, in his first time at this meditation method—his talents were truly out of the ordinary.
(Yoshiaki has certainly entrusted a hell of a youngster into my care.)
Would drawing out his powers also take less time than expected?
As these thoughts went through Kokuryou’s mind —
Takaya’s shoulders twitched slightly.
His rhythm suddenly went wild.
(?)
Strain entered into his breathing and aun visualization. He immediately attempted to rally, but evidently he could no longer naturally reenter the meditative state once disturbed.
Kokuryou peered at Takaya quizzically.
“Young monk...?”
Takaya finally opened his eyes at the sound of Kokuryou’s voice. He sighed deeply.
“Is anything wrong?”
“Ah...no.” Takaya’s expression was slightly agitated. “Just now, something...”
“Something...? What is it?”
Takaya closed his mouth. He couldn’t express it clearly. No, though he could not remember anything but the image of it, he had felt something in himself interfering with his ability to enter into deep meditation.
Or would it be better said that something had pushed him away from coming any closer to the core of himself...?
It was inconceivable for Takaya that this might be the wall of suggestion Kagetora—in other words, his former self—had built. This wall erected by the ruins of Kagetora’s consciousness to seal his memories from resurrection manifested as a minor headache for Takaya.
“Shall we try once more?”
"Huh? ...Ah, okay...
He made a valiant effort, but this time it didn’t go so smoothly. No matter how many breaths he counted, his mind would go off somewhere before he could catch himself.
Kokuryou left the main temple building.
Takaya continued to count.
But as the minutes passed, his mind wandered away before he knew it.
“Sendai
...?” His younger sister Miya’s eyes widened to hear his plans, the day before he left. “Onii-chan, you’re going to Sendai?”
“Yeah...” Takaya responded guiltily. “I’m going on a trip with some friends...probably to somewhere in Miyagi.”
“Hmm, that’s really sudden, isn’t it?” Miya made a strange face, but after a moment suddenly smiled brightly. “You’ll probably see Mom, right? If you do, will you tell her that we’re doing well?”
“Ah...yeah.” Takaya nodded, baffled, but...
Takaya left the main temple building and looked up at Sendai’s pure blue sky from the garden.
He was still thinking of that smile Miya had given him.
(It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?)
Scenes from the past flickered into his mind.
It’d been five years ago. His family had been a storm every day: his father in a drunken frenzy, his mother trying desperately to stop him. Fighting and violence. It seemed like his younger self watched his mother crying in her room every day.
Carrying a small luggage bag, their mother had walked away from them.
She had turned countless times, relief at being able to escape on her face. And at the same time, deep apology for leaving her children. All the while, Takaya had stood in the cold wind gazing after her thin figure disappearing into the twilight of the hill road.
Their mother had later remarried, and was now living here in Sendai.
“Tell her that we’re doing well.”
(I won’t see her, Miya,) Takaya told his sister in faraway Matsumoto. (There’s no way I’ll see her...)
Takaya’s eyes dropped slightly.
They were under the same sky.
But she no longer had any connection to him.
(She’s a stranger now...)
He sighed a little and gazed up at the blue Sendai sky once more.
From the main temple building Kokuryou watched over Takaya’s still figure.
Ayako returned around seven that evening.
After finishing a dinner prepared by the temple, Ayako reported the results of the spiritual sensing to Kokuryou.
“Rituals for invocations of the dead were performed at the other two locations as well, as we suspected. There were spirits swarming all over them. It’s now somewhat clear that these incidents of building collapses were done for the invocation ritual.”
“Is that so?” Kokuryou sipped his tea slowly. “So you’re saying that it was necessary to destroy the buildings at those sites to perform the invocation of the dead?”
“Yes. But we still don’t know the significance of those three places. There don’t appear to be any similarities between them.”
“The question is, who and for what reason were the invocations performed...? Mmm. We still don’t know, do we?”
“But we now know that it’s because of these invocations that Sendai’s «mood» has changed: auras are more concentrated here, and I think it might also be because the scattered aural balance is collapsing. I won’t know until I can investigate further, but what worries me is—” Ayako’s eyes sharpened. “Whether or not the invocations have now ended.”
“You are saying that the cases of building collapses will likely continue?”
“Yes. But I have no guesses as to the location of the next one, so I don’t think we’ll be able to stop it. Although if it happens again...”
“They will come to perform the invocation of the dead. The perpetrators will appear.”
“There will probably be victims. But I will put every effort into figuring out the next one before it happens.”
Kokuryou nodded deeply and drank the last of the tea in his cup.
“That is all that anyone can do.”
Ayako nodded as well. And then she peered at him, starting diffidently: “...Um...”
“What is it?”
“So how did Kageto...I mean, how did Takaya do today?” Ayako inquired, rather in the manner of a mother asking a doctor about the condition of her sick child. Takaya had hurriedly returned to the room on the second floor for dinner.
He hadn’t said a single word to Ayako.
“You are worried about him?”
“Ah, well, I mean, he seemed a bit...odd.”
“That young monk, hmm? Well, he certainly seems to possess extraordinary power. However, he appears to be worried about something. His feelings are gradually drawn elsewhere; he is restless and unable to enter a state of calm. As if he were brooding over something...”
“Brooding? Takaya?”
"Yes. Does he have any close friends or family here in Sendai?
Ayako looked towards the corridor where she had fleetingly seen Takaya.
(Kagetora...?)
Takaya stood stock-still in front of the telephone.
Kokuryou’s wife poked her head out of the kitchen and called to him: “Takaya-kun. The bath is heated now, so please go in first if you would like. Oh, did you want to use the phone?”
“Ah, can I?”
She smiled and replied, “Yes, of course. Do you want to call your family?”
Takaya closed his mouth and looked down.
When had he opened the Sendai phone book? Lines of numbers for the surname ‘Nagasue’ were on the page in front of him. When she remarried, she had changed her name to ‘Nagasue Sawako’. The telephone number of his mother’s house.
He picked up the handset, his finger reaching for the number pad. He slowly dialed the number in the phone book, but—
He stopped before touching the last number.
He hesitated, then pressed down on the cradle to cut off the call.
Takaya sighed lightly.
His finger moved over the number pad once more, dialing a familiar pattern from heart this time. A moment later, the call connected.
“Yes? This is Narita.”
“Ah...Yuzuru? It’s me.”
“Takaya?”
Yuzuru’s familiar voice, from somewhat farther away today.
His strained expression unconsciously softened. But Yuzuru instantly started laying into him.
“What the heck happened to you! You didn’t even show up for the exam! And you didn’t tell me anything!”
“Eh. Ah...sorry.”
“I thought you might’ve had a cold or fever or something—I was worried! And when I asked Miya-chan, she said you were off on a trip... What is with you! Where the heck are you?!”
Yuzuru was in a rare temper. Takaya completely broke down at the sound of his voice.
Yuzuru asked doubtfully at Takaya’s silence, “Takaya...?” His voice was suddenly quiet. “Has something—happened?”
Takaya smiled slightly. He was glad of Yuzuru’s nonchalant manner.
He opened his mouth. What emerged was the usual innocent conversation.
The Sendai night deepened.
“You! Youngster! Stop slacking off and sweep properly!”
The temple compound had been echoing with Kokuryou’s deep booming voice since early morning. Takaya threw down his bamboo broom and turned, eyes narrowed.
“Aargh, dammit—...! Why do I have to do this, anyway?!”
“This is one aspect of training.”
“How is it training?!”
Kokuryou turned away, ignoring his outburst.
“Sweep the graveyard with care as well. Don’t forget to take the garbage out from behind the temple after you’ve watered the plants in the garden. After that there are morning services. And then there will be the great sweeping of the main temple. When you have finished, we will continue from where we left off yesterday. Now buck up and get back to work!”
“Wh-hey! Gramps! Gramps, dammit!”
He felt like a proper doormat. Takaya picked up the broom dejectedly.
(Is he insane...?!)
Kokuryou returned after about ten minutes.
“Incidentally, the drains out back appear to be clogged. Could you...? Young monk?”
There was no sign of Takaya in the garden.
His bamboo broom was leaning against the persimmon tree in front of the main temple. Kokuryou scowled.
“That young brat... So he’s run away, hmm?”
(Like I’d take that from him!) Takaya spat, muttering to himself. He stamped up the road towards the city.
He’d always been quick-tempered, and he could simply not put up with being treated like a child—so he’d promptly run away. His wristwatch indicated that it was only eight o’clock. There were businessmen in suits and students in the uniforms of the local high schools passing by in the morning rush hour. He felt rather odd wandering around in his casual clothes, but...
(That’s right, I haven’t even had breakfast yet.)
Recalling his empty stomach, he dug into his trouser pockets. He’d apparently left his wallet behind, and only had some small change. 620 yen.
(I’ll have nothing left if I get a combo at McDonald’s.)
His impulsive desertion apparently wouldn’t last for long.
Takaya heaved a big sigh and looked over at the greenery of Aoba Castle beyond the river.
Naoe’s face suddenly appeared in his mind. The face looked angry. He sighed again.
(You’re the one in the wrong,) a voice rebuked him in his mind, and he began walking again dejectedly. He didn’t know that meanwhile, Ayako was having a great fit of temper back at Jikou Temple...
Before he even realized it...
His feet had begun following a path familiar to them. This was not the first time they had traveled this road. He could remember this row of houses...
(Ah, right...)
He remembered, and stopped dead. He had come here once, several years ago. It’d been immediately after his mother had divorced and remarried.
He’d run away from home after a big fight with his father, and, with only his life savings, had feverishly traveled to where his mother was living in Sendai. But though he’d walked up to the front door, in the end he’d been unable to ring the bell.
(That time, huh...?)
It had been snowing that night.
He remembered standing in front of the house for he didn’t know how long, looking up at the warm light glowing from the windows of Sawako’s house.
(That was such a stupid thing to do.)
Takaya’s lips pressed together tightly as he continued walking. A bright blue morning sky spread out overhead. He passed elementary school children on their way to class. His feet followed that familiar road as if following memory.
And then he came to a stop in front of the house he remembered.
It was a traditional house encircled by a white wall.
In the modest garden, pretty red flowers bloomed: the moss rose that Sawako adored.
He recalled that many of these flowers had bloomed in their garden too, a long time ago, and nostalgia swept over him. When he’d been young, he and Miya had loved taking these seeds and planting them here and there in the garden, waiting with anticipation for them to sprout.
The image of Sawako’s smile as she watched her children appeared over the moss rose blossoms.
The flower that no longer grew in their apartment.
He turned at the sound of a child’s voice.
(Oh...)
At the doorway, a woman wearing an apron appeared with a boy carrying a schoolbag.
It was Sawako.
Takaya instinctively hid around the corner and peered out at the two figures.
“Do you have everything? Your indoor shoes?”
“Yeah!”
“Good,” Sawako replied with a smile. Though she was a little older now, her smile was so much fuller, so much brighter.
He had missed that distant, familiar voice.
“Watch out for cars.”
“Okay! See you later!”
“See you later.”
The boy bounded towards him. Takaya caught his unrestrained charge as he rounded the corner.
“Ooopsie.”
The staggering child stared at this older stranger for a moment, but...
He bowed quickly and dashed away. Takaya looked after him for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Sawako.
She was hanging up the laundry for drying. She looked older than he remembered, of course, but her face was radiant, without shadow or pain. It was vibrant almost beyond recognition.
(Ah, of course...) Takaya murmured silently to himself, his eyes downcast. (She is...happy now.)
Just then—
“Hello—”
A voice suddenly greeted him from behind.
He turned. A young man he didn’t know stood there—he had no idea for how long.
Jet-black hair and glossy lips. The beautiful young man looked at Takaya quietly. He held out a white handkerchief.
“? What is it?”
“Please use this if you wish.”
He looked at the young man doubtfully. A handkerchief?
“Um?”
“Ah. ...excuse me.” The young man smiled lightly and put away the handkerchief. As he turned on his heels he said over his shoulder, “You looked like you were about to cry.”
“—”
Takaya glared at the young man suspiciously.
Kousaka Danjou huffed a light laugh, turned gracefully forward, and walked away.
“...”
Takaya’s fierce scowl followed Kousaka as he disappeared into the distance.