Translation: all chapters
Prologue: Hot Sand Journey--Nameless Souls--
One could only imagine how fierce the storm had been, given the terrible state of things.
The bedrock of the ’Star Cave’
at Star Valley Temple had completely collapsed, and the waterfall splashed down in several streams. There was no longer any trace of the wayside shrine where it was thought to have stood, and only a few remnants of the cornerstone remained. He could only guess that it had been blown away by some great force.
The police had almost completed their inspection of the site, but appeared not to have made much progress due to the danger of a further collapse. However, this was clearly not a simple landslide.
A man stared at the scene from the roped-off area.
He was tall and dressed in a black suit. He looked as if he might be more at home in the government or business district rather than here in the deep mountains; he didn’t seem to be a local. Nor did he look like either a police officer or a member of the press. At any rate, he stood out.
The mountain wind was cold. The young man next to him tugged his collar down against its chilly touch on his neck, shivering.
“...They got hit, huh?”
He, by contrast, was dressed in baggy second-hand fashion, complete with fashionable heavy sneakers. He squatted languidly, chewing gum and staring at the cave just like his companion. He looked out of place next to the man in the suit.
“And we finally set the stage to settle this peaceably, too. I can’t believe the Life-Ripping Star was stolen. Everything was in vain. Geez...” He shook his head wryly. “What are you gonna do now, boss?”
Naoe Nobutsuna was still glaring at the cave forbiddingly.
The young man peeped at Naoe’s profile from below, his shoulders slumping. He was at a loss.
“A thief’s made off with our prize. Where the hell did these people come from? I worked so hard to get close to Sogou—that’s all hogwash now. All our hard work’s down the drain. All that information I sold to Sogou was for naught. A lot of trouble for nothing, that’s what this was. They snatched the star from under our noses. I can’t believe it,” he lamented, on the verge of tears. “What’re you gonna do, Master Naoe?”
Naoe did not answer. But there was anger between his eyebrows.
(Crap. He’s super angry...)
Ichizou was scared. He had grown to recognize Naoe’s temper since working with him. He had learned down to flesh and bone how terrifying Naoe was when angry.
“H-hey, Boss. Hope you’re not thinking of doing anything rash.”
“Do you know who did this, Ichizou?”
His voice was calmer than expected. Ichizou peered into Naoe’s face, a little surprised, to find Naoe glaring straight at the cave. Ichizou sighed and scratched behind his ear.
“Well... I can’t say for sure, but—... I’ve got a pretty good idea”
Naoe’s eyes widened. “You know?”
“It’s just a guess. It’ll be such a bother if it turns out to be them.” He drooped despondently. “I’ll look into it—please give me some time. It looks like all of the soldiers here at the cave were killed, so it’ll probably take a while.”
(It can’t be helped—)
Naoe contained his anger and glared again at the crumbled waterfall. What was done was done.
(Even though it was right in front of us.)
He gnashed his teeth, wholeheartedly cursing the star thieves as well as his own misfortune. This again. The God of Fate apparently hated him.
(I was so close.)
“But still, they were pretty thorough, weren’t they? I can’t even read the residual psychic energy.”
The thieves had been meticulous; they had used a fox charm to throw the residual psychic energy—akin to the fingerprint of a «power»-wielder—into chaos before leaving. Evidence pointing to the identity of the perpetrators had been destroyed.
“Without these clues, we’ve got no trail to follow...”
This young man’s name was Katsuragi Ichizou. Naoe had met this strange possessor spirit in Tokyo. Ichizou had been following him around ever since. He owned a magic flute made of human bone named Kasumimaru, and had been wandering around hunting for ‘nourishment’ for it when he’d met Naoe, whom he’d initially intended to make his prey. According to Ichizou, the liver of a kanshousha made the best possible food, and he’d initially started following Naoe around for that reason.
(Actually, I was planning to «exorcise» him ASAP.)
That had been the plan.
Ichizou knew his background and identity. He even knew important Uesugi secrets which must not be leaked.
(He can’t be allowed to live.)
But Ichizou was a strange man, and had of his own accord begun working with Naoe. His stated reason was that he found someone who had abandoned Uesugi interesting.
Five months had passed.
Naoe had spent them ceaselessly searching for Takaya. Since Ayukawa had found him at the mist-concealed mountain cottage, Naoe had exhausted his physical strength and suffered a nervous breakdown; yet he had not lost his determination to find Takaya. He was undeterred. He didn’t care about himself; he had to find Takaya. He’d crawled out of bed like a madman. With the full cooperation of Ayukawa, who couldn’t bear to stand by and watch, he had set out on his search. Yet despite fervent intelligence-gathering efforts in the area, he’d found not even a shadow of Takaya. He had vanished, leaving no trace or sign behind. After a month of searching, Ayukawa had finally pronounced:
“He’s gone, Naoe. Give it up and come back.” To the Uesugi as their supreme commander, he’d meant.
Kagetora must have already ended his own life and been purified. There was no point searching for him. If you consider Kagetora’s feelings, you’ll naturally realize what path he took. You made a promise to Kenshin that you must fulfill. You must see reality unbound by hope.
Naoe refused to heed him.
How could he give up when no body had been found?
(He’s not dead.)
Even if purification was the only option. Even if there was no other way.
He denied the memories driving him insane. He couldn’t nod; he still wanted to believe. He knew what he had to do. He was waiting for Naoe to come after him— That response made Ayukawa look at Naoe as he might someone deformed; then he shuddered.
“You’re going to abandon Uesugi? You really intend to throw it all away?!”
Ayukawa refused to accept it. This man, who had once told Naoe that he was his friend before he was a vassal, now pleaded with him with tears in his eyes.
“What are you thinking! You’re insane. Would you be here if not for him? Who gave you this life? Are you going to betray your benefactor, Lord Kenshin? Do you intend to go even if it nullifies Lord Kenshin’s grave resolve?”
“I will not forgive you! It’s unreasonable, it’s irrational, and I will never forgive you for it!”
Ayukawa hadn’t cried even when he’d lost his family, but he was crying now. Yet Naoe had to go. He shook off Ayukawa’s weighty persuasion by brute force. No matter how grave a crime he had to shoulder. Even if before him lay only judgment in Hell.
He didn’t look behind him. His glare was fixed on the path before him.
His mind was made up.
“I’m...never going back to Uesugi.”
He had made his decision during the months he had spent alone with a broken Takaya.
He‘d thought about it all the time, even to the point of mental deterioration. He’d thought about it for months. His answer had crystallized in the heart-wrenching ’smile’ Takaya had given him on their parting.
His path had probably been in front of him since the beginning.
Naoe left Ayukawa behind.
(It all started there.)
Naoe stared at the crumbling rocks beneath his feet as he thought back on those frantic days.
He’d continued his search locally, but had eventually given up with the knowledge that time was against him. He had gone to Tokyo to establish his own intelligence network. Having abandoned Uesugi, Naoe no longer had the power of an organization behind him. He had to work on his own.
He’d met Ichizou in Tokyo while the latter had been tailing him in the hunt for a kanshousha’s liver. Naoe had had no time for anything except Takaya, and Ichizou had ended up learning of his true identity.
In Tokyo, Naoe had met a certain person: none other than Irobe Katsunaga.
Not even Ayukawa knew. Irobe had caught on to what Naoe was doing; he’d seen through everything.
Naoe’s mind replayed every word Irobe had said to him. Irobe, the master of human psychology. Ayukawa had kept him in the dark about Naoe and Takaya, but Ayukawa’s integrity had revealed his guilty conscience to Irobe. That must have been Irobe’s starting point for unraveling the reality behind Ayukawa’s guilt and bitterness. —That Naoe had saved Kagetora in Aso. That because of Kagetora, he would not return to Uesugi. That even now—he refused to return.
He could no longer escape.
No, he’d anticipated this. He had to meet Irobe and tell him the whole truth. That had been his decision.
“...There is only one thing in this world which would move you to give up your heavy responsibilities, I believe. He’s alive, isn’t he?” Irobe had asked, speaking about Kagetora. Naoe had spoken gravely and with sincere resolve in response, revealing all that had occurred after Aso, everything concerning Kagetora. He had then expressed his intentions, the only thing that was left say. —It hadn’t surprised Irobe. Silence had fallen.
(You must have known.)
“Naoe Nobutsuna is martyr to Uesugi Kagetora.”
No matter what sins he incurred. Even if he were tormented for the rest of eternity...
Who he was signified what paths he walked.
To renounce Uesugi—
To renounce his position as supreme commander, the «Yami-Sengoku», the mission which supported the violation of the natural order called kanshou, the many important trusts given him by Kenshin. He had turned his back on the trust of one who was gone forever.
(Abandoned.)
“I entrust Uesugi to you.”
He’d uttered those words with a crushing weight on his chest. But he’d felt no hesitation.
To Irobe, whose loyalty to Kenshin was ironclad, Naoe’s choice was completely unforgivable. Naoe himself was well aware of this. None of this was easy. He had arrived at his answer after a long struggle in the face of guilt. It was too heavy either to carry or to throw away, and he felt as if he might be crushed at any moment. No one would forgive him for ‘throwing it away’. But he could no longer bend. They could no longer live by deceiving themselves about the ‘mission’ that had sustained their warped existence for four hundred years—that it had been imposed on them rather than produced from within; he could no longer live by lying to himself about the fact that his raison d’être was determined by his own heart.
Irobe didn’t forgive him. They were both resolved. Irobe had his own immovable justice. He would never give ground. Neither of them backing down would lead to the worst outcome. Persisting meant they would have to ‘kill each other’. Naoe was prepared for that.
But Irobe never used his «power». It wasn’t forgiveness. There was no acceptance. Only...
“I simply don’t have the confidence to say I can win against you in a fight where you’re pitting your ‘existence’ against mine.”
I will wait, Irobe had said. Not that he would forgive, but that he would wait.
He must have been at the end of his tether to speak those words. What lay in Irobe’s heart was beyond what he could guess.
(And yet...)
“Don’t...let Kagetora-dono die.” Irobe’s parting words—perhaps, indeed, their last parting—etched themselves deeply into Naoe’s chest. He who was trampling Kenshin’s resolve underfoot and turning his back on his promises.
(Lord Kenshin...)
The self who could not fulfill his promises, the self who was throwing it all away.
He was done, Naoe thought.
His declaration to Irobe had been the punctuation in his feelings. There was no more hesitation.
He was no longer Naoe Nobutsuna of Uesugi.
He was just a man.
He existed only for the soul called Kagetora.
He was a man without a name, and that was fine by him.
Katsuragi Ichizou had heard the entirety of his conversation with Irobe. That he would leave Uesugi. It ended there for him, but the public impact on Uesugi was enormous. Protecting Uesugi’s secrets in good faith was the least it was owed. Ichizou was a possessor spirit unaffiliated with any of the «Yami-Sengoku» factions, but secrets could leak anywhere. He had to be «exorcised». However, Ichizou had come to him with unexpected information.
“You want to save some guy whose soul is dying, don’t you? I know of a story that might be useful.”
Ichizou’s proposal had been about the Life-Ripping Star at Star Valley Temple.
“There’s a petrified star of great magical power that was once used in state rituals. If you can get your hands on it, you might be able to save whoever-it-is.”
The petrified star possessing vast magical power that Koubou Daishi had pulled down from the heavens.
A miraculous star that made the impossible possible.
(Has this Life-Ripping Star also been snatched away before my very eyes?)
His heart burned with regret. Naoe had not wasted a single minute, a single second, since Takaya had disappeared. He’d followed the clues given him by an information dealer named Kuroki to Osaka, but had been unable to locate Takaya. But the description given by the witness matched Takaya closely, and had finally convinced him that Takaya had survived after leaving the mountain cottage.
(He’s alive.)
It had strengthened Naoe’s hope.
It was actually Ichizou who had come across the information that someone who looked like Takaya had crossed into Shikoku. It had happened quite a while ago, but the information appeared to be solid. In addition:
“The Life-Ripping Star will be presented to Oda sooner or later. If you want to get your hands on it, you had better move quickly.”
Ichizou was surprisingly well-informed about the «Yami-Sengoku». Where did he get his information from? In any case, he seemed quite adept at obtaining it. Naoe appeared to have struck his fancy, and though his intentions were unclear, he had made himself quite useful, not least in the search for Takaya. There was no coercion; Ichizou willingly undertook everything from running errands to gathering information.
Naoe should «exorcise» him, but was having second thoughts. Right now he had to use whatever came to hand. Takaya was his first priority. The story of the Life-Ripping Star was also quite credible.
—It was worth investigating.
Given that conclusion, Naoe had Ichizou start a full-scale investigation into the Life-Ripping Star in parallel with his search for Takaya. Ichizou had succeeded in making contact with Sogou and begun preparations to infiltrate them.
That was when someone else had struck.
Naoe had proceeded to a town called Kawashima on Takaya’s trail. That same night, Ichizou had sneaked into a Miyoshi meeting to gather information—just in time for the attack.
After a fierce battle that killed all the guards, the Life-Ripping Star had been taken. Its whereabouts were unknown.
(Chase two hares, and you’ll get neither...)
But he had a time limit. He refused to be crushed by fate.
He had to find Takaya.
There were so many things Naoe had to tell him. What he was really trying to do. Kenshin’s thoughts. Above all, about Takaya himself.
The death of his soul was near at hand. —The limit of his existence.
If someone didn’t «exorcise» him immediately, his soul would soon shatter.
Takaya had to die now, or he would never again be reincarnated.
He had to be «exorcised» now.
He had to...
(I...!)
Once again he bit his lip to hold back the pain.
(I have to find...)
A way to save him. A way to stop him from going supernova.
(I will find it.)
He knew it would be difficult. He could not allow himself to be defeated by the obstacles before him, considering the weight of what he had thrown away and the magnitude of what he had to do. He would succeed, no matter what stood in his way. Even if demons stood in his way.
(Even if the gods stand in my way.)
“Let’s see what we can do,” Ichizou said. “I’ll find out where the Life-Ripping Star is. As I said, I won’t ask for your liver until I have the Life-Ripping Star, Boss.”
He seemed quite motivated. Based on his colloquial expressions, Naoe guessed that he was from this part of the country. Shikoku was like a garden. It was difficult to move around here, so it was nice to be able to depend on someone who familiar with the local situation. He couldn’t, however, believe that this Ichizou had no connection to the «Yami-Sengoku». Who was he? He seemed to scorn those who were part of the «Yami-Sengoku», but he swam through this world like a professional.
(Who in the world is he?)
“But this was pretty out there, what happened here.” Ichizou looked with admiration at the devastation of the cave. Not that this was the time for admiration. “There’s still some strong bastards in the world—...”
Naoe followed his gaze to the crumbled bedrock. The energy, thrown into chaos by the fox charm, was fading. He could tell from the oppressive, throbbing feeling rising up from beneath their feet, however, that there had been a fierce battle here. A large amount of «energy» had been expended. It stained indelibly like gunpowder smoke. To have used this much «energy» meant the thieves had been nothing but the best.
He folded his arms, trying to guess their identity. Something suddenly plucked Naoe’s sixth sense. What was he sensing? His eyes widened abruptly. He’d been touched, for just a moment, by a faint waft of air.
(What—...?!)
“Boss, what’s wrong?”
Ichizou’s eyes were wide with surprise. Naoe reflexively extended his antennae. It couldn’t be. But it was so familiar.
For an instant just now, the «energy» he sensed—
(It’s very similar.)
His soul had reacted before anything else. But to encounter that sensation here was an impossibility, and it shook Naoe. Yet this was a scent he could never have overlooked or forgotten, no matter how faint. Like his personal scent, it was carved into the deepest depths of Naoe’s being.
(Could this really have been...Kihachi?)
He had to be sure. Naoe abruptly knelt, and Ichizou jumped back. Naoe pressed his left palm against the black ground. His face was terribly stern as he concentrated on the «energy» around him. He began his spirit-sensing. He poured his soul into sensing the remaining «energy», probing as delicately as if he were dissecting microscopic cells. One minute, two...
Ichizou had no idea what was going on. The extraordinary sense of urgency froze him in place. Naoe’s narrowed eyes finally opened.
(What’s going on...?)
He’d gained no clear confirmation. There were too many kinds of psychic energies mixed together for him to grasp any single one. Maybe it was only the undertone of the scent that was similar. Yet—
He lifted his hand. The ground was cold. An ugly scar had been gouged into his left palm. He done that to himself after Takaya had left him, clutching a shard of glass in his despair.
Now that Kagetora was gone, only the scar was left.
“Boss...”
Naoe’s glare pierced the air. The crease between his brows was familiar to Ichizou, but he had never seen such an eager expression on Naoe’s face before. He shuddered.
His gaze was like a sharpened blade.
Naoe glared straight ahead without breathing.
Chapter 1: Cracks
News of Akutagawa’s death blasted through the village.
“It was assassination; someone assassinated Akutagawa-san!”
The Red Whales‘ hideout at East Mt. Iya was in a great uproar. The leadership had managed to keep the discovery a secret for a time, but it seemed to have leaked. Someone had killed Akutagawa Chikamune, the Red Whales’ strategist. It had happened not long after the successful theft of the star. Three days after the discovery, Kusama, head of the Red Whales, made an official announcement, the content of which was:
Spies from Sogou carried out the assassination of Akutagawa-dono. They’ve already been caught and disposed of. They probably came to retrieve the Life-Ripping Star.
That was it for the official comment.
No details were given, and the report was much too simple considering that a ranking member had been killed, but no one was suspicious. The honest Ichiryou Gusoku exploded in anger at the word ‘assassination,’ every mouth cursing Sogou, every eye swimming with tears for Akutagawa. Kusama’s voice trembled. His face was pale and his comments terse, which everyone assumed was due to grief. But Kusama’s agitation wasn’t due to mere grief. He was desperately trying to hold back some unusually heavy and dark thoughts—and not just Kusama, but the other ranking members as well. Yet only a few seemed to notice the unnatural stiffness of their faces.
Takaya was at the very back of the group, staring at them with quiet eyes.
Kada Reijirou stood next to Kusama, his eyes closed from start to finish.
Mt. Tsurugi’s autumn leaves were withering, and the season of cold wintry winds was here.
Takaya and Ushio were sent out on three more missions. Skirmishes with neighboring enemies seemed an everyday occurrence. Ushio had gradually become able to control his «power», which meant Takaya simply tagged along behind everyone else as if what had happened at the ‘Star Cave’ had been a lie. Still, he did help out when they landed in another pinch, a feat which made him the center of attention again (surprisingly, he seemed to be the type who talked when he couldn’t do anything else).
They had become accustomed to life in the Red Whales community. One day:
“Hey, Mutou. Why don’t you join us?”
Iwata Eikichi called out to Ushio mid-training session.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m practicing martial arts.”
Ten or so people were practicing paired karate.
“Everyone’s a little tense because of Akutagawa-san, so this is a way to raise morale. This is an ancient form passed down in Tosa called Usubae-ryuu. We developed it among us local samurai—it’s kung fu of a somewhat different style. Why don’t you give it a try?”
The form was like a combination of karate and aikido. The style was rustic rather than elegant—very much something the local samurai had taught themselves.
“I’ll teach you the forms, come and try it with us.”
“What? Wait, I can’t!”
His only acquaintance with martial arts was through arcade games. Eikichi forcibly dragged Ushio into learning Usubae-ryuu.
“No, no, not like that. Drop your hips more. Strike with your arms alone. Put your elbows on your hips, like this.”
Eikichi’s attentive instruction went on and on until, as evening fell, Nakagawa called out, “That’s enough.” He had just returned from a three-day absence.
“If I don’t stop you, you’ll make him work until morning.”
Nakagawa laughed at Ushio’s relief at finally being released.
“Iwata is susceptible to enthusiasm. When he sees you have an aptitude for something, he gets all fired up to teach.”
“Huh? Me, aptitude?”
And he got annoyed with those with no aptitude.
“That’s what I hear, Ushio-san. I heard you worked hard at Four-Legged Pass [Yotsuashi Touge]. Kada-san said that he recognizes you have a lot of ambition.”
“Hmm... I’m motivated, sure.”
He wasn’t yet accustomed to his «power», so if he made a mistake, he would be a liability.
“Have you and Ougi-san restored your friendship?”
Ushio suddenly fell silent. Whenever the subject of Takaya came up, he felt out of sorts. He hadn’t really talked to Takaya since the attack on the ‘Star Cave’. Nakagawa soothed Ushio’s sulky mood with fatherly sympathy.
“You haven’t been around each other much. You brought Ougi-san here, didn’t you? Are you just going to let it get worse and worse?”
“...How should I know? He’s the one who’s been avoiding me.”
He hadn’t seen Takaya around lately. Ushio thought Takaya was probably mad and avoiding him.
“Ougi-san wasn’t fighting at the cave to take the credit; he was fighting to protect you.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“If it weren’t for him, you might have died.”
“I know that!” Ushio jerked his head aside, angry as a rebellious teenager. “That’s why it’s so intolerable.”
It was mortifying that Takaya had shown off what he could really do. “I’m going to run away and go home?” What was he talking about? He was so strong! Ushio felt that he had not only been surpassed, but outclassed. He was ashamed that Takaya, whom he’d thought helpless, had played such an active role, while he himself had needed protection from everyone around him and had barely made it back alive.
“Why did I even bring a guy like that along? All Kusama and Iwata can talk about is ‘Ougi Ougi’... I’m only here to make him look better.”
“Ushio-san.”
“I’m an idiot. I wish I never brought Ougi along in the first place.”
He seemed to mean it. Ushio’s back as he walked away looked very small. Since the ‘Star Cave’ incident, his trust in Takaya had been replaced by suspicion and a sense of inferiority. This obsession over superiority between men was deeper-rooted than one might think. Nakagawa could do nothing about their relationship turning sour.
Speaking of soured relationships, there were two men who had an even more worrisome fissure between them: Kusama and Reijirou.
Kusama had been so shocked by Akutagawa’s death that he had locked himself in his room and left the running of the place to others. Though he claimed to be in mourning, what he truly feared was what he might say in front of other people. He couldn’t eat—that was how great a blow Akutagawa’s death had been. In any case, Kusama had suffered the worst blow of them all. On the other hand, Reijirou was going about his business with such enthusiasm—with such brazenness, almost, that he seemed to have already forgotten all about Akutagawa.
In any event, things had become quite alarming. As he sighed gloomily, Nakagawa heard someone calling to him from the lodging houses. He saw Oooka, their footboy, running toward him, expression urgent. Something else had happened, apparently.
“You’re back, Nakagawa-san! I’ve been waiting for you. It’s awful! Ougi-san is—!”
“?! Ougi-san is...?! What’s wrong?”
“Please come, hurry.”
Oooka pulled him by the hand into the administration building, and from there they rushed to Takaya’s room. Several people on nursing duty were clustered anxiously in front of the door.
“He hasn’t eaten at all the last three days. He’s been shut up in his room for all that time.”
“What?!” Nakagawa scowled. “What do you mean? Is he in there?! Why don’t you go inside?”
“Because...well... Everyone who’s tried to enter the room just suddenly collapsed, like they inhaled poison gas.” It had happened to two people one after the other; one of them was still unconscious and in critical condition. No one knew the cause, so everyone had been too afraid to enter the room. Nakagawa immediately shook off their restraining hands and tried to open the door. It was locked. It meant: do not enter. He broke the lock and forced open the door.
“Ougi-san...!”
Takaya was there. But he was cowering by the wall. The room was filled with a poisonous vapor that dazzled his eyes for a moment, but Nakagawa didn’t falter. He immediately opened the window, raised Takaya in his arms, and checked his condition. He hung limply.
(Oh no...!)
“Oi! Prepare an IV, now! And get me a syringe!”
Oooka and the others rushed out. He’d been poorly for a while, but his condition appeared to have deteriorated during Nakagawa’s absence. Not only that, but it looked as if Takaya had been fasting for all that time. Why hadn’t he told anyone he was sick?
“Ougi-san! Can you hear me?”
Takaya’s eyes opened a slit in response. He was conscious.
“Why didn’t you say anything to all these people around you?”
Everyone had apparently been so busy that no one had noticed Takaya.
His harsh reproach was not unreasonable. Since using his «power» at the ‘Star Cave’, Takaya had been in bad shape. He had a slight but lingering fever and no appetite. They‘d thought it was due to fatigue, but that wasn’t the sole reason. Nakagawa treated him skillfully without fear of Kihachi’s poison. The others moved away out of fear, but Nakagawa was brave. After purifying the room’s ’energy’ with holy water, he laid Takaya down on the futon and gave him an intravenous drip, after which Nakagawa finally managed to catch his breath.
“Why did you let it get so bad? Why didn’t you call anyone?”
He apparently hadn’t taken any food or even water. Nakagawa looked miserable.
“You’re so weak. Did you want to die?”
Takaya turned his face to the wall.
“...Ougi-san.”
“Leave me alone.” His voice was faint. “Don’t bother with me...”
He felt more sad than in a mood to scold. Nakagawa wrung out a towel and used it to wipe Takaya’s forehead.
“I’m a doctor. I can’t just ignore someone who’s sick.”
“—...Aren’t you afraid?”
“Of what?”
“You’ll die.”
“You can’t treat a patient if you’re afraid of him.” Nakagawa asked quietly, “Did you intend to die?”
Takaya didn’t answer. Instead, he laughed scornfully low in his throat. “You’re possessor spirits, so it’s not like you’re afraid of your bodies dying, right?”
“...Ougi-san.”
“I don’t understand you people.”
That they were possessor spirits didn’t make it okay. The crime was no different from killing a vessel.
On the table, Takaya shook his head weakly.
When he was with them, he no longer understood life and death, the meaning of existence. These were real bodies weaving their web of words in front of him, but those with whom he exchanged words were existences severed from life and death. They breathed; their blood circulated; their hearts beat. There was always a heaviness when life came to a halt. It hurt. It was never simple, and it hurt so much...
“Why couldn’t I have made this decision sooner—...?” Takaya muttered, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. “What am I doing...?”
Nakagawa’s eyes widened at the sight of him moaning in pain. Takaya had never allowed anyone here to see his ‘weakened self’ before. It wasn’t just his body. Takaya wasn’t crying, but Nakagawa could tell what he was trying to do by how he was weakening.
The very fact that he was alive was itself a sin.
(I knew that I would become nothing more than a murderer.)
Takaya no longer recognized himself. He had been thinking about it ever since. What was he doing here? The mission that had sustained him for four hundred years had abandoned him; he had lost what had given his life meaning, and now there was no one who needed him. His life no longer had any value or meaning. His life would be nothing but sin if he continued to live. And if that was the case, then why shouldn’t he kill and purify himself? The longer he stayed alive, the more likely it was he would kill someone. So long as he lived among people, so long as he could not go to some deserted place, it would happen someday. Why should he remain here?
What was making him do this? Why had he not gone to the world’s end? Why was he still alive, while claiming to have been swept away? Four hundred years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to slash open his belly like a man. And yet.
He had become so weak.
“If I’m going to be weak, I might as well be weak like this...”
It was better to be weak. If he couldn’t take his own life, if he couldn’t will his life to end...
“—What am I... What in the world...am I doing—...?”
(Isn’t this simply passive suicide?)
Nakagawa’s eyes widened. He was surprised by how badly Takaya was shaking. Though frail and in pain, Takaya made no sound of complaint. Nakagawa decided he couldn’t just leave Takaya like this.
Nakagawa gently grasped the hand Takaya was holding over his eyes. The unexpected warmth made Takaya’s eyes widen.
“If to live is a crime, then we possessor spirits share in that crime. But I can’t do anything about my existence either.”
“...”
“I have no choice but to live.”
Takaya closed his eyes. His mind was a jumbled mess, and he couldn’t quite understand what was going on. Was there any way for a soul to live on after losing its body?
“We, at least, need you. We need you. We want you to live.”
This was no lie. Nakagawa covered him with a blanket.
“Kada-san has heard about your condition. I’m sure he will be worried. Since what happened with Akutagawa-san, he’s been so busy that he hasn’t been able to come see you. Please take care of yourself,” Nakagawa said. He put away the blood pressure cuffs and syringes. As he was about to leave, he added, “I envy you, Ougi-san. I wish I’d had longer to live my life. Please take care of yourself,” he repeated. Takaya stared at the ceiling. He felt the life-giving drops entering him from the inner bend of his elbow.
The door closed. Takaya closed his eyes.
He bumped into Reijirou as he stepped out into the hallway.
“How is Ougi?”
He’d apparently been questioning Oooka.
“He’s a little weak, but with the IV and rest he’ll be better in two or three days. I think it would be better let him have a little quiet.”
The problem, as Nakagawa saw it, was more in the disturbance of his energy than his physical condition.
“Two people collapsed after being poisoned. One is in critical condition.”
“He hasn’t had enough training.”
“Since the star theft, Ougi’s energy has been chaotic. He can’t control the poison anymore.”
“Is that why he’s able to use «power»?”
“Probably. Please stop using him. There’s something wrong with him. Every time he uses «power» while in that condition, his life is shortened.”
"I wish I could, but he’s going to have to work harder than ever.
“Are you planning to use him and throw him away?”
There was a hint of censure in his words. Nakagawa, too, suspected what Reijirou had done to Akutagawa—that was included in his condemnation.
“If necessary.” Reijirou didn’t seem to feel any guilt about what he had done. “Please keep looking after him. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Kada-san...! Kusama-san is!” he was about to say, but stopped himself: being overheard would be bad. Kada walked away as if he hadn’t heard, and Nakagawa gave him a hard look. As Nakagawa turned to leave, he ran into Ushio. The second floor and above were the ranking members’ private rooms. Unless he had business with them, this area was off-limits to the rank-and-file.
“What’s the matter?”
Ushio stammered, but then asked hesitantly, “Is Ougi all right?”
“If you’re concerned, why don’t you go visit him?”
Ushio lowered his gaze. “Not like it has anything to do with me,” he said, and went back down the stairs. He’d apparently come out of concern, but wasn’t prepared to come clean about it. Good grief.
(Something seems to have been suddenly set in motion by the star theft.)
Nakagawa looked at the forest outside the window. The autumn leaves were almost gone, and the forest was beginning to prepare for winter.
(Where the hell are we going?)
They had as yet no idea that they were at the center of chaos.
(What am I doing?)
Mutou Ushio was thinking the same thing. He was sitting by the sunken hearth in an empty common room with his head in his hands. He was being so uncool. He was perfectly aware he was acting like a sullen child. Yet there was nothing he could do about it.
True, he was angry with Takaya. He regretted having trusted him. It was mortifying. He’d been outclassed. His shortcomings had been on display. He shouldn’t have brought a guy like that with him. But—
(I forced him to come, didn’t I?)
These days he suffered from frequent headaches. Being able to use «power» was a good thing, but why couldn’t he do anything about these headaches?
(Is this why I’m so irritable?)
“Looks like Ougi’s collapsed, Mutou.”
He looked up to see Yoshimura and his friends at the entrance. As usual, they regarded Takaya as their enemy.
“Serves him right, that red-eyed bastard. You must feel like an idiot, getting beaten by Ougi like that. Ouch,” Yoshimura said sympathetically, approaching.
He‘d heard that this man’s ’Ougi offensive’ had recently escalated. He seemed extremely mortified by the fact that his bullying attempts to silence Ougi had rebounded on him so forcefully that he’d been shaken to his core.
“You were the one who was supposed to brilliantly decorated by your first campaign. He’s shown himself to be a dirty rotten scoundrel at heart. The Red Whales would be better off if we expelled him. In fact, two of us got killed. We need to protect our comrades. We’re gonna petition Kusama-san now. Why don’t you come with?”
Yoshimura was the leader of a pack of the rank-and-file. Ushio didn’t like the fact that he was surrounded by a crowd of his followers wherever he went. Yoshimura hugged Ushio’s shoulders in an overly-familiar manner.
“Look, Mutou, you should join us. Let’s drive Ougi out together. With Ougi gone, Kusama-san and the others will turn their attention to you.”
Ushio glared at Yoshimura sharply, brushed Yoshimura’s hands off, and left the common room without a backwards glance.
“What the hell? Why is this batch of newcomers all cocky bastards?”
“Feh, whatever. Mutou is fine. ...The problem is that red-eyed bastard.” A dark fire burned in Yoshimura’s eyes. “I’m gonna find your weakness, Ougi Takaya. I’m gonna make sure you can’t stay here. Don’t think that you can enjoy the good life forever.”
“—What’s Kada doing?”
It was late at night. Nakagawa had come in with a change of clothes. Takaya, still prone, had asked the question as if he had just remembered it. He seemed to have regained his composure.
“He’s strategizing an attack against Hakuchi with Someji-san and others.”
“They’re...going with Hakuchi, then?”
Nakagawa nodded. He looked grave. “I see,” Takaya muttered. He was also concerned about Reijirou.
Kada Reijirou had apparently been present at the scene of Akutagawa’s assassination.
He’d told people that he had taken out Sogou’s assassin with his own hands after witnessing the assassination, but no one with any knowledge of the true state of affairs believed him. It was obvious who had killed Akutagawa.
When Kusama first learned of it, his mind had apparently gone blank. The shock was indescribable. His face had turned white as paper. He’d frowned and trembled all over, then struck Reijirou hard before locking himself in his room.
It must have been Kada who had killed Akutagawa.
The shock had been too much.
If word got out, there was no telling the uproar it would cause. He couldn’t allow his comrade’s murder to become public knowledge. Thanks to the efforts of Samanosuke and others, they managed to get away with publicly blaming Sogou (in line with Reijirou’s report), but Kusama’s heart raged against Kada.
“Of course. Akutagawa-san was an important link to Lord Chousokabe. He was a foothold. It’s unforgivable that he should have killed by one of his closest friends.”
Kusama probably hadn’t expected Kada to resort to such forceful measures. The shock was so great that the plan to move the Life-Ripping Star to Kouchi had been put on hold. Meanwhile, Reijirou was proceeding with his attack on Hakuchi Castle. Ironically, those who were convinced that Sogou was responsible for Akutagawa’s murder were so determined to attack Hakuchi in revenge that even Kusama couldn’t stop them.
“—I have a bad feeling about this.”
“You’re worried about them?”
“...Not really.”
“But I understand. The rupture between those two will lead to a rupture in the Red Whales.”
Kada had acted too hastily. He’d known that something so reckless as assassination endangered their future, but he’d been unable to stop himself.
“Did you perhaps realize, Ougi-san?”
“Realize what?”
“That Kada-san was going to kill Akutagawa-san.”
“What does it matter even if I did? It’s none of my business what he does.”
“It doesn’t look that way. I think you’re quite concerned about it.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“He’s the one who says that the nameless should band together to become a force in their own right—and that’s the Red Whales. We’re proud of our independence. He is too serious and did a reckless thing.”
This solicitous man seemed to understand Kada’s feelings quite well.
“Deep down, he has a hard time trusting people. That’s why he always goes about things alone. You can be on Kada-san’s side. Won’t you help him?”
“I don’t have that kind of power.”
“No, you’re capable of it.”
Takaya silently glared at Nakagawa.
“Will you help Kada-san so that he will not be misunderstood?”
“...I’m not getting involved.”
He turned away. He feigned indifference, but in fact, he had been concerned about Reijirou ever since that day.
What Reijirou had said to him had pierced into him like a tiny thorn...
“Revenge against life itself.”
(Show me.)
If you’re capable of it. If you can.
(Show me, Kada Reijirou.)
It was past lights-out.
Ushio didn’t return to his room. Like a child who had lost his place in the world, he sat down on a piano chair in the corner of the hall. He pondered as he idly pressed down against the keys.
If it weren’t for him...Ushio would be...
(I’m the one who got him into this mess, aren’t I?)
Takaya’s red eye. When Kada had called it an evil eye, Ushio hadn’t believed him; he’d thought Kada had made it up to make it easier for Takaya to stay. Apparently, though, it really could kill. He was perfectly fine within the sacred precincts of Mt. Tsurugi, but Ushio had heard that due to the poison he carried, it was dangerous just to be with Takaya.
(Was it the poison that called the spirits when we first met?)
And two people had collapsed today.
(He wanted to be alone.)
He didn’t even have room to be thinking on a level of whether he was outshining Ushio or making him look good.
(What should I do?)
He sighed again and looked dazedly up at the wall. A panel photo hanging there caught his eye. It was a scenic shot of Mt. Tsurugi. Speaking of which, what had happened to his favorite SLR camera? He’d had it with him on coming here. He had forgotten all about photography in the interim. Feeling as if he had suddenly remembered a very important friend, Ushio rushed to the warehouse. He was sure that he had left his camera with his bag, tent, and other gear.
The camera, second in importance only to his life itself, was stored with the rest of his belongings. It made Ushio happy.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t been taking care of you at all, have I? There there—...”
He stroked it like a child and looked through the viewfinder. The familiar weight and feel of the camera in his hands made him happy for the first time in a long time. He notice that there was still some film left.
(That’s right.)
“Huh? Photograph developing solution?”
Ushio was visiting Nakagawa in his room to make the request. There was a microscope and rows of test tubes. Nakagawa was staying up past midnight nightly to experiment with an antidote.
“Yeah, I’d like to develop this film. I’m passionate about photography, and I have to do the developing myself to be satisfied.”
Ushio was holding two or three rolls of film. “All right,” Nakagawa said, and kindly provided him with all the necessary equipment for developing the film. A simple darkroom was set up in a corner of the washroom.
“What kind of pictures did you take?”
Ushio commenced his developing process at once, while Nakagawa observed with interest. Ushio worked quickly and skillfully inside the change-bag.
“Various things. The Iya mountains, Ooboke Valley, and so on.”
Hearing the noise, Eikichi stopped by while on his rounds. Nakagawa asked for a special dispensation just for the night. Eikichi also came to take a curious peek inside the darkroom.
“Oh, so this is how you develop pictures. Not bad, you.”
At first Eikichi watched with deep interest, but eventually he was overcome with a need for sleep and went back to his room. Nakagawa also returned to his work after about 30 minutes. The cottage village slept.
(Seems like it’s going well...)
He took the film out of the developing tank and looked at it through the light source. This time, the film seemed to be generally good. Remembering when he’d taken the pictures, he checked the negatives one by one. His hand suddenly stopped.
(This...—...!)
What was he looking at? Ushio quickly prepared photographic paper and an enlarger. Once he estimated the film to be dry, he immediately began the printing work. Ignoring the other negatives, he set the desired frame and carefully and painstakingly exposed it. A short time later, Ushio stood in the simple washroom darkroom, staring at the image of his subject emerging from the liquid. Ushio was perfectly frozen underneath the red light. The result was a photograph that he couldn’t believe had been taken by him.
(It’s beautiful.)
It was the picture of Ougi Takaya he had taken that day in the mountains of Iya.
Takaya’s monochrome figure, captured in that single detached moment and printed on photographic paper, was more beautiful than any other subject he had ever photographed. The picture looked alive.
(It’s natural.)
It was enough to make Ushio gape.
Spray refracting light; drops of water traversing his supple back; his well-muscled shoulders. Nuances of shadow beautifully conveying the texture of his skin. The tension of the toned flesh and the antelope-like line that stretched from his lower back to his thigh. It was as if he could feel the smoothness of his arched neck to his chest. Danger and toughness underlay his body in perfect balance. How beautiful he was.
Above all, the expression on his face.
His lips parted, his eyes staring heavenward. This expression—
And then he realized: the vitality he’d captured wasn’t due to his photographic technique, but due to his subject. It was the subject’s own power. This vibrancy came from within him.
He had the wild animal’s innocent essence that Ushio was ever drawn to. Was this truly a human being just like him? He accepted the nature of Iya as it was without defense, with his whole body—
“Oh...?”
Tears welled up in Ushio’s eyes and overflowed before he realized it.
He couldn’t hold back any longer.
Sobs overcame him, and he cried silently with a hand pressed against his mouth. Seeing Takaya like this, everything that he had been holding back in his heart surged out of him as if a dam had been broken.
The first feeling that came back to him was: “It hurts.”
It was the loneliness that resonated with him. Just from this one photograph, Ushio could understand the pain of Takaya’s loneliness.
Ushio cried alone in the darkroom until dawn.
“We can’t sit back and simply let Miyoshi throw their weight around!”
“We must attack Hakuchi soon!”
It was the next day. It was exceptionally noisy outside as the rank-and-file stamped into the public square for a meeting. Those who wanted revenge for Akutagawa’s murder had gotten fed up and were kicking up a fuss.
“How long will you keep silent?!”
“Retaliation for retaliation! The Red Whales must stand up now!”
“We call on our leaders to attack Hakuchi immediately! Let’s attack Hakuchi Castle!”
Eikichi and Nakagawa surveyed the scene from their window. Hikawa Samanosuke, alerted by the commotion, hurried over to them.
“What’s all this yelling at this gods-forsaken hour?!”
“They want to attack Hikuchi to avenge Akutagawa-san’s death.”
For the past two, three days, the call for an attack on Hakuchi had been growing rapidly. They had finally exploded this morning.
“Attack Hakuchi! Now is the time to attack Hakuchi and avenge Akutagawa-dono!”
“We must pay Miyoshi and Sogou back!”
The gathering continued to swell dangerously. If left unchecked, it looked as if a riot might break out. Just as Samanosuke was about to go break it up, Kada Reijirou appeared at the entrance.
“Hey, it’s Kada-san!”
The soldiers immediately surged toward Kada, every person shouting for an attack on Hakuchi, for revenge.
“Everybody, be quiet!”
The cold voice echoed through the mountain morning. Kada deliberately ascended the stage and addressed the crowd:
“I apologize to all of you for the delay. I understand your passion perfectly. We cannot allow Miyoshi and Sogou’s misdeeds to continue. If we can’t be angry when we are angry, there is no point to us. We, the Red Whales, are the only ones who can protect our homeland, our Tosa, from Oda!”
(Kada-san...!)
Nakagawa and the others had no time to stop him.
“We will attack Hakuchi immediately!” Reijirou declared without hesitation. “We will attack Hakuchi Castle! We will take Shikoku!”
A roar of joy so loud that it seemed to split the mountains rang out at the foot of Mt. Tsurugi.
The date for the attack on Hakuchi was finally set.
The troops’ demand had seemingly necessitated the verdict, but had it really? Kada Reijirou made all the core decisions for preparations. Everyone’s spirts rose as they began to arm themselves.
But Hakuchi was also a matter of life or death for Miyoshi. If they were to attack, they needed to be prepared for anything. Reijirou intended to use the just-taken Life-Ripping Star, for which he needed permission from Kusama. The attack on Hakuchi was no longer Reijirou’s idea alone; it was the consensus of the entire group. Kusama couldn’t possibly refuse.
Yet Kusama stubbornly, steadfastly refused to permit the use of the Life-Ripping Star. Reijirou finally had to negotiate with Kusama directly.
“Why won’t you understand, Kusama-san...?!”
It was still early in the morning.
Reijirou was in the meeting room reserved for the leadership. Blood was already rushing to his head. He approached Kusama, who was sitting at the front.
“It’s obvious that if we’re serious about the attack on Hakuchi, it’ll be a fierce battle. If we use the Life-Ripping Star, we won’t lose any men. This is the time to use it. Please allow it to be used,” Reijirou requested earnestly. But Kusama only stared at the wall cynically. Reijirou yelled, exasperated, “Why, Kusama-san?!”
“Why? You ask me why?” Breaking his long silence, Kusama suddenly turned cold eyes toward him. “—It’s obvious. The Life-Ripping Star belongs to Nobuchika-sama. It isn’t ours. We cannot use it in a mere local battle.”
“What do you mean, ‘mere’? Do you not care if our comrades die? Isn’t preventing that why we have the Life-Ripping Star?!”
“We already decided that the first use of the Life-Ripping Star would be for Nobuchika-sama. We must not diminish its power by tarnishing it.”
“What are you talking about? The Life-Ripping Star is supposed to be used for war! It isn’t Chousokabe’s; it belongs to us, the ones who stole it! It belongs to the Red Whales!” Reijirou argued passionately. Understandably.
They had enshrined the Life-Ripping Star at Daiken Shrine at the summit of Mt. Tsurugi, where the Red Whales took turns keeping a strict watch. The small wayside shrine holding the star boasted a sturdy lock, to which Kusama held the key. The complicated lock had been made by the Red Whales’ locksmith from spirit-iron, and even Reijirou couldn’t remove it without the key.
“Let me use the Life-Ripping Star. Let me use it to attack Hakuchi.”
“If I refuse, will it be my turn to die by your hand, Reijirou?”
Reijirou choked. When he looked up, he saw the cold eyes of Kusama waiting for him.
“How dare you ask me for the use of the Life-Ripping Star, Reijirou.”
“Kusama-san...”
“Do you think I feel nothing?”
“...”
“I’m enraged to the bottom of my heart by what you have done.” He said it calmly, but something dark drifted in his eyes. “You stole something very precious to me. Stole not only from me, but from the Red Whales someone who was truly important to us.”
“Kusama-sa...”
“I don’t forgive you. Look at my hand: just to look upon your face makes it tremble from the desire to draw my sword...and you want me to allow you to use the Life-Ripping Star?”
The air was filled with killing intent. Reijirou stiffened. Kusama sneered with fury.
“I’m angry, Reijirou.”
“Kusama-san.”
“I didn’t think you were that kind of man. What an ingenious way for you to go about it. Killing Akutagawa-dono and then inciting his comrades by tricking them into believing the Sogou did it. You made them think it was about revenge. Is this your plan? What a calculating man, what a despicable man. Was all of it a plot? What an evil man. Damn you. What have you done?!”,Kusama slammed both hands against the desk. “Now my road to Chousokabe-sama is even longer! The Red Whales have lost a precious pillar, and it’s your fault! It’s all your fault, Reijirou!”
“Kusama-san...!”
“Akutagawa-dono cared for us so deeply. He gave me his recognition. He was our samurai general! But you! But yooooou!”
“Listen, Kusama-san! It wasn’t like that; you never saw that man for who he truly was. That man, Akutagawa, wasn’t what you thought he was. He didn’t even think of us as human beings. He was going to use us as much as he could, and then throw us away when he didn’t need us anymore!”
“I won’t listen to your filth!” Kusama stood, yelling dismissively. “No matter what kind of a person he was, we needed him to rise. We needed him to clear away the regrets of our past lives, to get back on our feet.”
“No. We can do all of that without someone like him. We’ll build our own stairway. We don’t need someone else to make the stairs that will allow us to rise up!”
“I don’t want to listen to your sermons.”
“No, I won’t shut up. You were taken advantage of. He never thought of you as anything more than a dog!”
“Take care, Reijirou!” Kusama’s face was red with agitation. “I could afford to lose anything except Akutagawa-dono! He was necessary for the revival of Chousokabe! Yes—more than you!”
Reijirou held his breath. He felt as if his chest had been split wide open. Tears welled in the corners of Kusama’s eyes. He didn’t think it was from pure agitation. Did he regret what he had said? Or were those his true feelings?
After a moment of silence, Reijirou asked, “Would it have been better if I died instead?”
“...”
“Was Akutagawa was more important than me—when we came up from nothing together?!”
“Yes, he was! I depended on him! He had so much more learning and wisdom than us! You ruined everything! Killing you isn’t enough! Why, Reijirou? Why would you kill Akutagawa-dono? Why take him from us? We can’t survive without him! The Red Whales are done for, everything is over!”
Kusama burst into tears and wailing. Reijirou remained silent. Kusama sobbed like a man not used to tears. He cried as if trying to exorcise his despair.
When his tears dried up, Kusama panted for breath. No matter how much he screamed, Akutagawa was not coming back.
Eventually regaining his composure, Kusama told Reijirou in a low voice, “—I will not allow you to use the Life-Ripping Star. If you want to attack Hakuchi, do so under your own power, Reijirou. Now leave.” With that, Kusama turned away and did not give him another glance. Reijirou gave up. He sighed deeply, bowed, and left the room.
Kusama didn’t turn when the door closed.
He glared out the window at the trees swaying in the wind.
The morning sun poured into the cracks in both their chests like stinging poison.
Chapter 2: Headwind From the Sea
“‘Let’s show Mimase, open Urado, the moon is beautiful at Katsura Beach’...eh?”
Yosakoi yosakoi. At the harbor pier, the young man finished singing and turned his gaze from the Great Urado Bridge overhead to Yamanaka Shikanosuke standing next to him. There were several fishing boats anchored in the area. The splendid Urado Bridge spanned Urado Bay and was tall enough for a ferry to pass comfortably underneath. On the opposite shore was the famous Katsura Beach. Before the bridge had been built, it’d taken more than an hour to drive around the bay. Drivers had welcomed it with tears: “This is what we’ve been waiting for.” They weren’t pleased, however, that there was still a toll.
“And it’s a residential road, too. Are we supposed to pay for the convenience? It’s brutal, isn’t it?” Laughing snidely, Yasuda Nagahide bit into a steaming-hot piece of grilled squid. “Well, I guess it’s a good admission fee for the folks at Urado Castle.”
“They’ve certainly found a very nice place to build their castle,” Shikanosuke Yamanaka muttered, looking out at the luxuriant mountain on the opposite shore from the passenger seat of the parked car.
“Urado Castle, originally belonging to the Motoyama Clan before it fell to Chousokabe Motochika, who made it his residence...huh.”
There was no castle tower, and the site was now part of Katsura Beach Park. During the Sengoku Period, when Motochika’s power had been at its height, he had made Okou Castle, located further inland, his stronghold. When he moved to Urado in Tenshou 19 (1591), Motochika was already a vassal of Hideyoshi and approaching old age. Chousokabe had built Tanezaki Castle on this side of the bridge to take down Urado Castle, which originally belonged to his enemies the Motoyama Clan, a powerful local family.
“It seems that this new power is trying to use Urado Castle as their base. I can see a fine barrier.”
“Hmmm... Are they the remnants of Chousokabe?”
Nagahide took a bite of his squid. The park faced the sea, which made it convenient for all kinds of situations.
“Let’s see. Where should we start our attack?”
Yasuda Nagahide— He had lost ’Chiaki Shuuhei’s body in Aso, and after kanshou looked completely different. His body had been blown to pieces in his great clash with Nobunaga. Nobunaga’s hakonha and his choubukuryoku had collided head-on, and getting away had been impossible. Chiaki had exerted every frantic effort. The hakonha’s overwhelming energy should have torn his soul to shreds. In fact, he’d thought it was the end. Chiaki had experienced a terrifying moment when he’d thought he would take a direct hit from a nuclear explosion.
But it hadn’t been the end. At least, his consciousness still remained.
(I guess I should be grateful.)
“You traitor! I’ll kill you, I won’t rest until I kill you!” Haruie had yelled—one might almost have thought she would cry tears of blood.
In the underground prison, after Ranmaru and the others had left and they were alone, Haruie had shot him a look of seething hatred from behind the thick glass.
“How dare you double-cross us for Oda, of all people...! I never knew a more horrible man than you!”
“I’m such a fool...I can’t believe I trusted you just because you came back to Uesugi and supported Kagetora for two years! You’ve always been that kind of man! You know neither pride nor justice! You’re a filthy, shameless man who lives only for himself, and always has!” Ayako screamed, spewing every invective she could think of and beating on the glass until she bled.
“I’ll kill you with my own two hands, you just wait and see!”
Nagahide looked coldly down at Ayako as she broke down in tears. His heart never stirred. The thick glass was in his chest, not in front of his eyes.
“Oda’s dog!”
(Whatever you say.)
Nagahide gave a small laugh. He didn’t care to be understood. ...He had no need of it.
“Anyway, Kouchi City is basically the enemy camp. Let’s move cautiously.”
Shikanosuke’s words brought him back to reality. Nagahide sighed lightly toward the sky and scarfed down the remaining squid.
“Where is Chousokabe’s head? Let’s first figure out who controls Urado Castle and their relationship to those who stole the Life-Ripping Star.”
“Agreed.”
Nagahide and Shikanosuke had come to Kouchi at Ranmaru’s request to confirm whether Chousokabe Nobuchika had truly been resurrected. Even Oda had a difficult time handling Shikoku. Here in the sacred precincts of the great holy man Koubou Daishi, even Oda’s actions were bound. Spiritual obstacles were everywhere, and infiltration from the outside was difficult. If Nobuchika had been resurrected, Oda had two options: conciliation or extermination. Ranmaru had unhesitatingly given the order to “exterminate”. The identity of the newly rising power was still unclear. Nagahide got into the driver’s seat of their rental.
“Once we’re inside Shikoku, we’re on our own. We needn’t fear the possessor spirits, at least. ...Speaking of which, you’re a possessor spirit, aren’t you?”
Shikanosuke was wearing heavy protection for his entry into Shikoku. Fortunately, he was a powerful man with the special ability to transform moonlight into magical power. It made him as capable as any kanshousha. Not that Nagahide cared what happened to Shikanosuke.
He turned the key and started the engine. He was still getting used to his new body. A host body tended to hold onto the habits of its previous owner, and this one didn’t quite feel right yet, annoyingly. It was like changing cars.
“It’s insane.”
Suddenly, he recalled Takaya’s words. As usual, the change of body didn’t particularly move him. He didn’t know if perhaps he was numb to the pain that Naoe and Kagetora felt; as a human being, there was something he appeared to lack.
(Bit late for that, isn’t it?)
Nagahide stepped on the accelerator and turned the wheel. It wasn’t emotion. It was just that the same cigarette tasted a little bitter. Just a difference in this body’s sense of taste, perhaps.
With Urado Bay to their left, they headed toward downtown Kouchi. Shikanosuke was occupied with a map.
“But this incident seems to be more important than we expected.”
He was talking about the Life-Ripping Star. They had heard about the attack on the ‘Star Cave’ from Ranmaru.
“Ranmaru-dono never seems to catch a break. He was outraged, and no wonder. This ‘Life-Ripping Star’ or whatever it’s called was supposed to be a key part of a large project. A Sogou general’s head or three may have to roll for this.”
As a result, Nagahide and Shikanosuke had even more work to do. The recovery of the Life-Ripping Star had been added to the assassination of Chousokabe Nobuchika. It was strongly suspected that the ‘rumored’ emerging power had attacked the cave.
“Our problems keep multiplying, huh?”
“Yes. But if we accomplish both, our stock will surely rise. Amago’s revival draws nearer. Let’s search with all our might.”
Shikanosuke was all fired up. Nagahide watched the center line with a cigarette in his mouth as he continuously adjusted the steering wheel with one hand. Date Kojirou was heading for the cave. He was in charge of the field investigation; Nagahide wondered how far he could get.
(It’ll be a test of the younger master’s skill, huh?)
In any case, he didn’t like having Kojirou along because it felt like he was being monitored.
Nagahide was thinking about something else as he muttered, “Everything is an experience.” He was talking about the emerging power.
They were mainly engaged in guerrilla activities, and was said to have recaptured Kouchi’s outskirts, which had formerly belonged to the Aki and Ichijou clans. Afterwards, their power had increased dramatically. Originally a kind of localized resistance formed from a core of earthbound spirits, they seemed somehow to have gained organization. Thus these spirits weren’t limited to those from the Sengoku Period.
(An onryou resistance...)
The Aki and Ichijou clans, the targets of that resistance, were once major powers that, along with Chousokabe, divided southern Shikoku into three: Aki Kunitora to the east and Ichijou Kanesada to the west. The Ichijou Clan was descended from court nobility. After being targeted by Chousokabe, Kanesada sought help from Ootomo Sourin of Usuki in Bungo, and was later baptized as a Christian. He was able to recover his lost territory for a time, but was eventually chased out again and fled to Iyo (Ehime Prefecture), where he quietly vanished. Aki Kunitora, on the other hand, had been based in the eastern part of Tosa (present-day ) and controlled the eastern wing of Tosa. He had held his castle to the last in the face of Chousokabe’s invasion and had committed suicide in exchange for the lives of his soldiers. He was a military commander known for his valor and daring, and, judging from the large number of vassals who had followed him to the grave, a beloved master as well. Aki and Ichijou, both destroyed by Chousokabe, had been resurrected into the «Yami-Sengoku» and now occupied Tosa. Resisting them were the earthbound spirits.
“It is an interesting story, isn’t it? Ordinarily, they’re swayed by the closest onshou.”
They must be very independent. But if there were vassals of Chousokabe among them, it would make a certain amount of sense. The barrier at Urado Castle also appeared to have been created by this ‘resistance’.
“Anyway, let’s go eat some bonito and get our strength up, and then pay a visit to this resistance. Let’s take a look at how much skill these not-onshou actually have.”
The car headed toward downtown Kouchi. As they entered the center of the city, Kouchi Castle—formerly Ootakasa Castle, Motochika’s second castle—came into view on its conspicuously elevated foundation.
“I’m the commanding officer of the commando unit...?” Takaya’s eyebrows jumped up at what Reijirou had just told him. “You’ve gotta be kidding...! There’s no way I can do something like that.”
Meanwhile, at the Red Whales’ hideout at the foot of Mt. Tsurugi, Takaya was in Reijirou’s private room in the administration building in response to his summons. Perhaps Nakagawa’s medicine had taken effect—he had recovered and was able to get up and moving again. Three days before the planned night attack on Hakuchi, Reijirou had called Takaya in to inform him, “You’re recovered. The decision’s been made. You will participate in the attack on Hakuchi.”
This operation, a large-scale one for the Red Whales, would mobilize 120 men to be divided into four units, with Reijirou in charge of the first unit, Samanosuke in charge of the second, and Eikichi in charge of the third. The fourth, a special commando unit, was what Reijirou had place under Takaya’s command. It was an exceptionally big promotion. A newcomer, and a ‘living modern man’ to boot, was to lead a unit in a castle attack of such importance. Reijirou had made this decision without consulting anyone else. Naturally, Takaya was vehement in his opposition.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. I can’t be a commanding officer. You can’t just make a decision like that! I refuse!”
“Think about it for a moment before you refuse. There are many brave warriors among the Red Whales, but not so many men who can lead others.”
“And I can’t either.”
“Don’t lie to me. I saw it at the ‘Star Cave’. You certainly commanded and led us then. Despite the fact that both Kusama-san and I were there.”
Takaya choked. He’d taken over unconsciously, and Reijirou had detected his ingrained habit of making decisions.
“Your command was magnificent: precise, swift, efficient, and exactly on point. We need high-caliber commanders for this operation. The commando unit’s actions, in particular, will determine our success or failure. It is up to the commander to let live or kill.”
“...I can’t use «power».”
“That’s also a lie. You don’t use it intentionally.”
Reijirou had seen through that, too. Takaya glared at him resentfully. He was a formidable man. His desire not to be deceived by anyone had honed his perception in the detection of true intentions. He sat down on a chair, tilted it back slightly, put his feet up on his desk, and began to tend to his arquebus.
“It doesn’t matter even if in the worst case you can’t use «power». What we need is a commander. All you have to do is give orders. I’d be even more grateful if you could use it, of course,” Reijirou laughed. Takaya suppressed his emotions and put on a pragmatic expression.
“Even if I did take command, I don’t think they’ll follow my orders. Who would follow a newcomer from the modern world? To you onryou, modern living people are objects of contempt and resentment.”
“The Red Whales is a group of onryou, but not all of us have modern people in our sights, necessarily.” Reijirou continued to wipe the barrel of his gun. “Anyone who has been a victim of oppression is eligible to enlist, regardless of whether or not they’re dead. That’s the Red Whales I know.”
“That may be true for you, but not for the others.”
“Maybe now, but eventually they’ll come around.” Only now did Reijirou raise his voice. “The Red Whales are those who hate authority and domination. It doesn’t matter what era you were born in. Our group is united by our hearts.”
“That’s nonsense. It’s impossible for the living and the dead to join forces. The onryou hate this world because it gave them no choice but death! They are so irrationally angry that they want to destroy the world!”
“You sound as if you’re a onryou too.”
Takaya’s face stiffened.
“What’s the big difference between life and death for us? Whether or not we have a body—that’s the only difference. All of us exist. The only difference is in the way in which we exist. I don’t think it’s such a big barrier. What’s important are the mind and heart.”
“You make me uneasy,” Takaya snapped. “You’re trying to break down a wall that shouldn’t be broken down. Life and death are the final order. Without order, there is chaos. It’s dangerous. There will be no right or wrong. We lose our foundation, without which we can judge nothing. Life and death are existence and its absence. This wall must not be broken. You’re the ones who should not exist...!”
“Those who should not exist, Heaven will not allow to exist.”
Reijirou’s words bore straight into Takaya’s heart. These were the same words that they had uttered many times in an attempt to justify their kanshou.
“That’s what Kusama-san has said.”
“...What an arrogant idea. Allowed? Are you allowed to invade other people? It’s a gross violation of territory. It’s a crime. And you think that’s allowed?”
"What are you saying?
“It’s like one country invading another. Of course it’s not allowed. You’re not allowed to invade other people in order to exist!”
“You want us to disappear?”
“...”
“That is ‘murder’ of the onryou. Telling something that exists to get lost is the same as telling it to die. Modern people created human rights—in which case we have spirit rights.”
“You can’t have a right that allows harm to be done to others...!”
“But we exist here and now, and so long as we do so, we have to continue to live.”
The two men glared directly at each other.
“Ougi, the fact that we have to talk about order is proof that we are already in chaos. What is important is ‘existence’. Whether or not a thing exists. That is all that matters.”
“...”
“You’re a person of the modern world, after all. Though we’re all human, it seems that what our eras teach us are indeed different. It isn’t unforgivable to take from others in order to stay alive. The law of the jungle is the fundamental truth of the world. As for myself, I’d stay in this world even if Heaven didn’t allow it.” Takaya kept glaring at him, but didn’t respond. “I’ll give consideration to selecting personnel for your unit. Still, I’m sure you can get even Yoshimura to follow you.”
“You’re overestimating me. It’ll only cause more trouble.”
“Don’t think you can fool these eyes of mine, Ougi.” Reijirou looked at Takaya with a very earnest, probing expression. “I don’t know who you are, but no matter how hard you try to conceal them, I can see your talons. You can’t help it.”
Takaya glared at him repressively.
“It doesn’t matter to me who you are. You’re leading the commando unit. That’s an order.”
(And if I refuse, you’ll kill Mutou, huh...?)
He didn’t know about Kusama, but Reijirou was capable of anything.
“Reijirou, your way is too overbearing. You’ll drive people away.”
“I don’t care whether or not they follow me. We need people who can carve out a new path.”
Reijirou seemed to know his role well.
“Go to Hakuchi. I’ll take full responsibility.”
Apparently, word of the unit formations had leaked before the meeting, and a huge revolt instantly erupted. Yoshimura and the others formed a cabal which converged on Reijirou. They clamored for Ougi to be removed from his position, but Reijirou was having none of it. To the contrary, he threatened to expel them. It left them nowhere to turn.
Which only made their anger less visible, but no less potent. In the large room, they put their heads together to plot countermeasures.
“We should refuse to go into battle, Yoshimura.”
That was the general consensus.
“If we refuse to go, the leaders will panic. They can’t just ignore us then.”
“That’s right, Yoshimura. We refuse to go into battle and use that as a pretext to drag down Ougi. In modern parlance: bai...boi...er, how’s it go again?”
“Boycott.”
“Yeah, that’s it! There’s no way they can attack Hakuchi without us! I’m sure Kada-san knows what’s more important, us or Ougi.”
But Yoshimura didn’t nod. Under these circumstances, they couldn’t count on Kada.
“It looks like Ougi’s got him wrapped around his little finger. If we’re not careful, he’ll cut us off.”
“Then what do we do?!”
“I have an idea,” Yoshimura said. His voice was quiet, but his eyes burned ominously. “Above all else, we have to wake Kada-san up. That’s our first priority. I have a good idea—it’ll get Ougi expelled from the Red Whales for sure. Look here.”
Yoshimura dug his fingernails into the tatami mats. The rushes were cut, and a dull thud was heard.
The first snow fell on Mt. Tsurugi that evening.
The autumn leaves were almost done. The forest was so cold that it was no longer possible to go outside without a jacket. The occasional cry of deer could be heard in the distance.
Takaya was sitting at the base of a cedar tree. The fallen leaf-piles would become warm beds for insects in winter. He could hear the sound of a stream. The cedar’s bark was warm to the touch. Being near the tree made him feel safe, as if someone were there with him. Takaya seemed to like this tree.
His gaze fell on a brown praying mantis near his feet. At this time of the year? He looked at it with surprise and saw that it was eating something with slow movements: a dragonfly, perhaps the last dragonfly of the year.
The old praying mantis silently ate its dragonfly. Perhaps it would be his last meal. Takaya stared at it until it finished eating the dragonfly’s head.
“The law of the jungle is the fundamental truth of the world.”
(Living while violating others.)
But this was how nature maintained its balance. The food chain. Eating and being eaten, only the strongest individuals survived to leave offspring. And evolve. Oneself. The species. To survive, to survive...were all the trespasses and strife programmed into our genes?
(If so, who put them there?)
“If the living have human rights, we have spirit rights.”
The right to exist—
(If there is such a thing, this world will one day lose its balance.)
Possession and kanshou were both transgressions. They were nothing more than crimes. But onryou were not rational. They had no conscience. They could not be stopped, thus could only be extinguished. Yet they continued to be born. It was a vicious circle.
The dead who should have been purified remained because of their emotions. Because of their determination. Thus the original sin lay in the ‘psyche’.
(The psyche defies the principles of existence.)
“Human society must change if it is not to give rise to onryou.”
When was it that Naoe had said that?
“Where everyone can die peacefully without bitterness or pain. Without such a world, onryou will continue to exist.”
Without such a world, their work would never be finished.
“Such a day may never come.”
(We work to get closer...)
“And we need to keep doing so,” Naoe had said. Rather than whining about the exhaustion of endless life, work so that onryou will not come into existence in the first place. Work to make that world a reality.
(That’s what we should do.)
But such an ideal was unreachable; the end of the world was much more realistic and believable. No matter how much he used his «power», he was powerless against the current of the times moving toward tragedy; and each time he had the horrible realization that that ideal was getting further and further away.
(As a result, the human psyche leaves behind a distorted existence in the world.)
If strife and trespass were built-in programs, how could the onryou be eliminated? Even justice, which sought to avoid unfortunate deaths, created conflicts between different justifications, giving birth to new onryou. Such was the 20th century. Conflicts of ideology and principle gave rise to war and a vast death toll. Was this truly the way? Was this fate? ...Was this inescapable?
“I believe that people will find ways to gradually draw closer to a world without conflict.”
(Because human beings know ‘compassion’...)
Recalling Naoe’s words, Takaya smiled. You know too painfully well how extraordinary an ideal it is...
Reijirou’s words were painful because they could also offer a defense for himself as kanshousha. At the same time, Reijirou seemed to be telling him, “Free yourself from the cage that is order.”
(I’m afraid of you, Reijirou.)
He felt like he was growing closer to them, and he was afraid.
He was afraid that he would take revenge on ‘living’.
Reijirou hadn’t said revenge against ‘living people’, but revenge against ‘living’.
(Who resents it more than anyone else...?)
Takaya hugged his knees. He confronted his own existence.
Ever since that day...he’d thought about it constantly.
“Ougi-san, there you are.”
It was already dark. Utarou had come from the lodging houses to look for Takaya. Nakagawa had assigned the boy to look after Takaya and take care of his personal needs during his illness.
“I thought you might be here. I’ve been looking for you. It’s already dinner time, and there’s a strategy meeting for the attack on Hakuchi starting at eight. Please get something to eat before the meeting.”
He stepped on fallen leaves as he approached. Takaya shook his head lightly.
“I have no appetite.”
“No, you have to eat. If you don’t, you’ll collapse again. Nakagawa-san will scold me.”
Utarou was a boy of only fifteen or sixteen. He’d died young, at fourteen. He had a boy’s gravity, and didn’t feel the unreasoning terror for Takaya that others did.
“I’m thinking. I want to stay here for a bit longer,” Takaya said, and Utarou bent his head in perplexity. He really was troubled. It made Takaya feel sorry for him, “How about this, then? Bring me the food, and I’ll eat here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. There should be lanterns in the warehouse. Bring one, will you?”
“Can I join you?” Utarou badgered Takaya eagerly.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Bring your dinner as well. We’ll eat together.”
Utarou jumped for joy and ran back to fetch their meals. Takaya, who was cold to others, was kind to Utarou. Perhaps it was because he and Miya were close in age.
Takaya’s heart froze, and he slumped down.
He had met Miya several times in his dreams at the mountain cottage. Some were so realistic that on waking he’d thought they were real.
(I wonder how you’re doing, Miya—...)
In fact, Takaya hadn’t been aware that he’d performed a psychic projection. He thought it was a dream. He didn’t know that the strength of his feelings for Miya had turned into a unintentional projection to her.
Utarou came back while he was still brooding. He had a lantern hanging from his elbow and a tray with dinner for two in both hands. “Thank you for waiting,” he said as he sat down next to Takaya. “It’s fun to eat outside.”
Takaya lit the lantern, which cast a warm light over them. Utarou appeared to think of Takaya as an older brother, and adored him so much that he didn’t care about the poison inside him. Utarou ate heartily, as one might expect of a growing teenager, leaving nothing but the bones of his grilled fish.
“I hear you’re going to be the commander of the commando squad, Ougi-san,” Utarou said with his mouth full of rice, as pleased as if he himself had been given the position. “I’m proud of you. But it’s not like it’s a surprise. I heard about what you did at the ‘Star Cave’ from Iwata-san. I wanted to talk to you ever since.”
That was why he’d been so happy to be around Takaya.
“Isn’t it grand? I wish I could go with you, but they’ll probably make me house-sit again.”
“It’s nothing but a bother.”
“I want to be useful to Kada and the others, too. I admire them. Kada-san and Hikawa-san are way cool. I want to be like them.”
It was a boyish dream. Takaya looked at Utarou’s profile in the glow of the lantern. How painful was the thought that he, too, was onryou. Fourteen years old. Too young. ...Surely he would have wanted to live longer.
“I died in the third year of Bunkyuu (1863). That would have been about 130 years ago.”
“...The end of the Edo period, huh? So you...”
“I’m like Someji-san; I was a member of the Tosa Imperialism Party. Though I didn’t even count as a grunt.”
He scratched his head. The Red Whales were not of uniform age; nearly half of them weren’t from the Sengoku period. There were quite a few from the turmoil at the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate. The Bakumatsu-era Tosa Loyalist Party had formed around Takeichi Hanpeita (Zuizan), a country samurai of the Tosa domain, who put his life on the line to revere the Emperor and expel the Western barbarians. The party controlled the province for a time, but the fluctuating current of the times took their lives. Takeichi and company were executed by order of Yamauchi Youdou, Tosa’s feudal lord.
“Did you know Takeichi Zuizan-sensei?”
Utaroh was unreservedly delighted. “He was an amazing man, a star of hope for us country samurai. I still regret his death...”
After the political upheaval of August 18, when the Choushuu Clan was ousted from the capital by Satsuma and Aizu, the popular feeling of the times turned abruptly from ‘revere the Emperor and expel the Western barbarians’ to favoring a shogunate marital union with the Imperial Family. It flew in the face of Takeichi and company, and Tosa lord Youdou began a thorough suppression of their movement. Takeichi had assassinated one of his chief retainers, Yoshida Touyou, in order to allow the Imperialists to gain control of the domain, for which Youdou had likely harbored a grudge. He could hardly have been amused at Takeichi, a country samurai, and his gang running the domain.
“You were also executed at that time, then?”
“I—no. Nothing that respectable,” Utarou muttered sadly. “I was rude to a superior and shot.”
“You were shot...for rudeness.”
“Aye. I was one of the poorest of the country samurai, so poor that I couldn’t afford food or clothing. One day, a young high-ranking retainer from somewhere came to hunt in the mountains near our house. He rode into the fields on his horse and destroyed our crops...my parents said, ‘He’s a high-ranking retainer, protesting won’t do anything, just stay quiet.’ They only prostrated themselves. But I couldn’t bear it. I objected. But he didn’t stop. I exploded with anger...”
Putting down his chopsticks, Utarou looked down bitterly.
“He was a fool who didn’t know what was going on outside of Tosa. That idiot knew nothing about Japan or national affairs, but he still took advantage of his station to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t know anything, but he mocked Takeichi-sensei! He laughed at the imperial loyalist samurai! I was...only a low-ranking member of the Imperialist Party, but I studied. I couldn’t forgive him! I couldn’t forgive a worthless idiot for laughing at the country samurai who put their lives on the line!”
“—You attacked him? This retainer?”
“I slashed at his arm, but the cheap sword broke. And then...he rudely shot me. Then he stabbed me repeatedly—...”
And that had been the end of Utarou.
Takaya’s chopsticks stopped moving as he stared at Utarou’s profile. His eyelashes were wet, and tears welled from his eyes.
“What a miserable end, now that I think about it. My face was shoved into the mud. I died like a dog without accomplishing anything. The country samurai who died for their convictions didn’t become onryou. But I... I...”
“Utarou...”
He wept, swallowing his bitterness. The retainers and the country samurai. This was a class system unique to Tosa.
Its origin dated back to Hideyoshi’s era. After Chousokabe left, the Yamauchi family of Kii entered Tosa, and their hereditary vassals became known as the high-ranking retainers [joushi], while the masterless local samurai who were Chousokabe’s surviving retainers became known as country samurai [goushi]. Though they were all samurai, the latter were ranked lower than the former. They were subjected to various discrimination and never allowed to disobey.
“The country samurai couldn’t do anything. We had to do exactly as we were told, or we were cut down, and we couldn’t say a thing about it. Many of us were poverty-stricken.”
“...”
“That’s why the country samurai gambled on our dreams. We wanted to overthrow the Shogunate and the high-ranking retainers.”
In a world where there would no longer be any distinction between samurai—
A world where no one would be oppressed.
Utarou wiped away his tears and began peeling the remaining oranges, trying to regain his composure. Takaya stared at his fingers.
He’d heard a lot about Takeichi Hanpeita. Most of the members of the Imperialist Party had lost their young lives without ever witnessing the Meiji Restoration. If they had lived, they would surely have contributed hugely to the age that came after.
At the time, Takaya served under Ookubo Ichiou, a chief retainer of the Shogunate and chamberlain of Osaka Castle, who often told him about the state of affairs in the country. Much blood had flowed, and much passion had forced open the era’s doors. It had been such an age.
In one of its corners, Utarou had died without leaving his name. —A ‘small death’.
But Takaya didn’t think it had been imprudence. Utarou had died for his stubborn pride. That wasn’t a miserable death.
“Oh...I’m sorry, I’ve rambled so long about myself. It’s shameful; I rarely tell people about it...”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
There was nothing to be ashamed of in a person’s death.
But had this boy also remained in the world, cursing his life’s worthlessness...?
Utarou smiled at Takaya, perhaps glad that he had quietly listened to him.
“By the way, Ougi-san is good friends with Mutou-san, right? I heard you enlisted together.”
“Mutou? Oh, right. We’re not friends. He hates me.”
“Really? It doesn’t look that way to me. When you collapsed, he came to check on you several times.”
“Mutou?”
“Yes,” Utarou nodded. He said, gazing at the light of the lantern, “It’s nice to have a best friend like that, isn’t it? I wish I had a friend like that.”
“We’re not best friends. My best friend...”
“You’re still you. Even if you change, you’re still Takaya.”
Recalling the soft voice he felt like he heard all the time, Takaya’s chest ached. He looked down.
“If you keep going like this, your life will be in shambles, and your future will no longer matter!”
“It’s someone who gets angry with you when you’re being unreasonable. Someone who shouts out your unspoken grievances for you.”
“Don’t...go anywhere”
Suddenly, he felt as if a nostalgic wind was blowing.
Memories of those taken-for-granted days came back to him unexpectedly. In a corner of the school building, on the street after school, in the park late at night...walking shoulder to shoulder.
Takaya’s heart tightened at that irreplaceable face. He had always cared for Takaya, sacrificing himself without a second thought. Takaya must have caused him a lot of worry and pain.
“Someone who always supports you from the bottom of his heart...”
Looking back, though he’d sometimes scolded him, he’d always been been there, supported and accepted him, despite Takaya’s utter selfishness—
(My precious...)
Something unpleasant suddenly snapped across his mind. His consciousness touched barbed wire. Takaya was shaken as he suddenly remembered the dark coldness he had forgotten.
(Isn’t it weird?)
He hadn’t thought about it directly until right this second. An even more unpleasant feeling made Takaya shiver. Had he forgotten some grave crime? Even now, a whole existence was slipping out of his consciousness. Completely. Truly. Why didn’t he remember what he was just saying?
(What did you do to that most precious of...)
He stared at the palms of his hands. What had these hands done?
“Is that your best friend? What’s his name?”
(Name.)
Takaya’s eyes were violently agitated.
(I can’t remember.)
“Ougi-san... What’s wrong?! Ougi-san? Ougi-san!”
Takaya had turned as pale and rigid as if he’d been impaled by an iron stake.
Utarou’s voice never registered.
Takaya was stunned.
He could no longer remember Narita Yuzuru’s name.
Chapter 3: Attack on Hakuchi Castle
The all-hands meeting started on time. There were nearly 200 people gathered in the wide, drafty hall. Most had traveled from Kouchi and Aki, and some from as far away as Ashizuri.
They were divided into three main groups. Kada Reijirou was in charge of the operation. After speaking about the significance and purpose of the attack on Hakuchi, Kada began to explain the operation using a video projector.
Kusama was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t involved in this operation at all. He, too, was obstinate.
On the other hand, the gathering was fired up.
The ‘vengeance for Akutagawa’ mood was at its peak, and the eagerness of the assemblage was tangible. News of Akutagawa’s death had reached even faraway Ashizuri, and the men were so enraged that they were ready to rush out at the slightest provocation.
At last the squad assignments were announced, and Takaya was named as the captain of the commando unit.
Although there were murmurs of “Who’s that?” from those who didn’t recognize the name, there was no strong opposition. Surprisingly, there was no outburst from Yoshimura and his gang. Was something going on?
The commando unit consisted of twenty members. Though small, it was an elite crew. Yet Takaya, its leader, stared fixedly at a spot on the floor—had he not heard Kada’s exposition? His face was stiff. A worried Utarou asked Nakagawa, “Did I say something wrong...?”
(I don’t think that’s it.)
Nakagawa could see that something was wrong. He had never seen Takaya look so grave.
“The attack on Hakuchi will be our most important battle for protecting Shikoku from the enemy! We’ll attack and attack and attack! I want all of you to unite your hearts and minds!”
Riled up by Kada’s fierce proclamation, everyone let out a rousing war cry. Let’s do this! Damn Miyoshi, damn Oda! We’ll drive them out of Shikoku! We’ll avenge Akutagawa-san’s death! We’ll take Hakuchi!
The men were in high spirits. Kada raised his fist in the air to stir them up further.
“The Red Whales will take Hakuchi! We won’t hand Tosa or Shikoku over to anyone! We’ll defend Shikoku!”
The hall rang with their voices. They raised their fists and shouted in unison, “Let’s do it! Let’s go! Let’s defend Shikoku!”
Takaya crouched against the wall, his eyes dark, as if the warriors seething with enthusiasm and excitement were a world away.
The men’s vortex of voices rose to the ceiling. Kada basked in their power and stared fiercely into midair with a vibrant gaze.
“Wait, Ougi-san! Ougi-san!”
Nakagawa came running up the stairs by the lobby after Takaya.
The hour-and-a-half all-hands meeting had ended without a hitch, and the troops were about to disperse to their respective squad meeting rooms. Takaya was heading against the flow of people back to his room with Nakagawa chasing after him.
“Ougi-san!”
He caught Takaya’s arm. Takaya shook him off roughly. Undeterred, Nakagawa forcibly seized his arm. Takaya turned to him, annoyed.
“What’s the matter? The team meetings are starting now. You’re a commander; you have to go!”
Takaya had told the members of the commando unit, “There’s no need for a meeting. Dismissed,” before heading for his room. It had surprised and perplexed them. Common sense said that a new leader like Takaya needed to spend more time with his team than the other commanders.
“Please come back. You need to hold a meeting.”
“I said it’s not necessary because it’s not necessary.”
“What happened? Please talk to me. This is ridiculous, Ougi-san!”
Nakagawa held his arm in a tight grip and refused to let go. Takaya glared at his hand in irritation, but eventually averted his eyes in distress.
“I can’t...remember...”
“Huh?”
“I can’t remember the name of someone I absolutely could not have forgotten!”
It startled Nakagawa. He could guess at the seriousness of the situation by the paleness of Takaya’s face. He immediately hugged Takaya’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him.
“Why don’t you tell me about it? Come to my room.”
Nakagawa steered Takaya to his room with an arm across his shoulders. Takaya didn’t seem to have the energy to resist. Yoshimura and his gang watched them from behind the stairs.
“He’s damned cocky for an amateur. He doesn’t need a strategy? He’s got a big mouth.”
“He ran away because he’s insecure. Well, whatever. I look forward to go-day.”
During the meeting, Kusama remained in his room on the third floor. He could clearly hear the men’s excited voices. The more roused they got, the more the walls groaned and the floor shook, as if it in the midst of an earthquake. Kusama hated their energy.
Each team’s strategy meeting took about two hours. Eikichi’s Squad Three surged straight into the banquet, where they made quite a racket. It took considerable guts to be so merry during preparations for battle. Noisy people liked to boast that it gave them extra energy for the next day; that it wasn’t a lie made them daunting.
Hikawa Samanosuke arrived after his strategy meeting.
“So the attack on Hakuchi is about to begin?” Kusama muttered.
The room was dark. To express his mourning for Akutagawa, he didn’t turn on the light at night. Still, an outdoor lamp shone through the window and lent its glow to the room. He’d shut himself up in his room since Akutagawa’s death; it must have been a terrible blow to him. He hadn’t even been able to eat for a few days.
“Reijirou must be in high spirits.”
Kusama’s voice was filled with unabated anger. Hikawa replied, “Everyone else seems to be convinced that it was Sogou who killed Akutagawa-san.”
“Those stupid sheep. Reijirou’s taking them for a ride,” he tsked bitterly. “If you can do it, then do it. I don’t care if you fail or suffer casualties, fighting without the Life-Ripping Star. If you rub Oda the wrong way, Reijirou, and Oda pays you back twofold, that’s on you. It’s got nothing to do with me. I hope you get what you deserve for killing Akutagawa-dono.”
Not, of course, that he wanted Reijirou to fail; he simply couldn’t hold back the upsurge of maledictions. He had no intention of getting involved. His fist still hurt from striking Reijirou. The thought that Akutagawa, whom he had loved and respected so much, was no longer in the world, was heartrending. He’d gritted his teeth so much he’d worn away a layer of enamel.
“Let him pay for killing Akutagawa-dono! The Red Whales are finished. We’ll never recover...!”
“Please don’t be so irresponsible, Kusama-san.”
Kusama’s hot blood ensured that once he started sulking, he was unmanageable. Though his reason thought Samanosuke’s remonstrations were reasonable, his heart was uncontainable.
“We need you not to give in to despair. Please get ahold of yourself. Now that Akutagawa-san is gone, you must keep the faith all the more.”
“I know. But I can’t forgive Reijirou! He didn’t have to kill him!”
“Was it friendly fire?” Samanosuke’s face grew grave as he asked in a low voice, “Why did Kada-san kill Akutagawa-san?”
“It’s obvious—because he was a direct vassal of Chousokabe-sama. Reijirou was jealous.”
“I’m curious about what Akutagawa-san said at our last meeting.”
“About what?”
“That Kada-san is connected to Sogou.”
Kusama’s eyes widened with shock. Samanosuke sounded as if he were about to violate a taboo.
“I’ve been wondering about it since then. If what Akutagawa-san said is true, then Kada-san must have killed Akutagawa-san to prevent him from revealing what he knows.”
“Impossible,” Kusama refuted emphatically. “Reijirou would never do that.”
“But isn’t it strange that he has killed twice without consulting the rest of us? Don’t you think his persistent refusal of Chousokabe is also due to the fact that he has something to hide?”
“Certainly not... And besides, Reijirou is attacking Hakuchi Castle.”
“You don’t think it’s a trap? Just as we were ambushed at the Star Cave, there may be a trap waiting for us in Hakuchi.”
(Are you saying that Reijirou will sell out the Red Whales?)
Kusama’s face turned grim. Was Reijirou selling out the Red Whales to Sogou? Had he betrayed them?
“Nonsense...! Reijirou isn’t that kind of a man!”
“I’m saying you should be vigilant. No one among the Red Whales can prove he didn’t.”
Reijirou had also disposed of Yasuke with Ougi Takaya as the only witness. This Ougi had Kada’s favor; he couldn’t be trusted.
“Please send a spy to monitor him, Kusama-san.”
“Samanosuke.”
“If you find anything suspicious about Kada-san’s behavior, please be ready to take action immediately.”
(By “taking action”, you mean...kill him.)
He couldn’t believe that Reijirou would sell out the Red Whales. The Red Whales were more important to him than Chousokabe. His world revolved around the Red Whales. He would never betray them. Kusama knew Reijirou. He knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t that kind of a person.
“Samanosuke... I’m not doing that.”
“Why not, Kusama-san?!”
“I’m indeed deeply enraged by what Reijirou did. But he hasn’t fallen that far. I’d rather die than bring suspicion on a friend! Wouldn’t you agree?!”
It surprised Samanosuke. Kusama, who had cursed Reijirou so, was now defending him.
“But just in case...!”
“Samanosuke. As soon as you start to doubt your friend, you destroy everything. The heart of the Red Whales is the bond between Reijirou and me. When that bond is lost, that’s when the spirit of the Red Whales collapses. I believe in Reijirou.”
“Even if he double-crossed us? Kada-san has already assassinated Akutagawa-san. What if he betrays us and kills all the Red Whales, don’t you care...?!” !
Kusama looked up resolutely. “...Even so.”
“Kusama-san.”
“Kada has put his faith in the Red Whales. After what happened, I no longer trust everything Reijirou does, but I do trust that faith. He cares more about the Red Whales than Chousokabe or me. That’s the kind of man he is. He’s self-reliant. He doesn’t depend on anyone.”
He wasn’t swayed by anyone—
Samanosuke gave up. But he would do the monitoring himself. He was more pragmatic than anyone else in a crisis. “I understand,” he answered.
Kusama said, “I won’t aid the attack on Hakuchi in any way. It means I have no faith in this operation. Tell him that.”
“Eikichi is still carousing, isn’t he?” Reijirou said with disgust. The banquet was still going strong, though it had relocated to the large room annexed to the assembly hall. “There’s always tomorrow. Tell him to go easy.”
“Aye,” answered Kirino, his acting secretary, before leaving the room. Reijirou returned to his own room. Maintaining his firearms calmed him, and he did so now with his psychic gun from his leather chair. Nakagawa stared at his rough fingertips.
He looked calm at first glance, but inwardly he was anything but. The way he kept wiping at the same spot was evidence of this. Though he affected an air of tranquility, Kada was nervous. You could tell by the hardness of his expression. He hadn’t slept.
“Are you anxious?”
Reijirou came back to himself and manufactured a deliberate smile. “Me? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Are you stressed about not being able to use the Life-Ripping Star?”
Bull’s-eye. There was no comparison between an attack on Hakuchi and any other castle. It was the most important castle on Miyoshi’s front line. It was tough. One wrong move and the Red Whales could be done for. The probability of success was 50-50. But if they didn’t take Hakuchi now, it would be too late. It would be too late once Oda joined the battle. He was taking a deliberate gamble.
“But Kusama-san has his pride, too. It’s understandable. You brought this on yourself.”
“I know that. I knew from the start that it was too much to expect to use the Life-Ripping Star.”
“You gathered the best men from all over Tosa, but you still felt uneasy, so you forced Ougi to take command of a squad.”
Reijirou looked thoughtfully out the window, and then began to move his hand again, “I heard that Ougi didn’t hold a meeting. Well, it’s true that the commando unit needs to react on the spur of the moment, so there’s no point in planning in advance.”
“Can’t you relieve Ougi-san of his command, Kada-san?”
It was already past midnight. All was prepared. Nakagawa had come to Reijirou to make his request.
“I believe I asked you not to use Ougi. He’s unstable both mentally and in his «power». Please remove him from the attack on the Hakuchi. For both Ougi and the troops’ sake.”
“I have no intention of changing my mind. Ougi is leading the commando unit.”
“Something’s seriously wrong with him.”
“Someone so precious to me...!”
Even in Nakagawa’s room, Takaya’s agitation hadn’t subsided. Nakagawa had sat him down on the examination table, where Takaya had stared at his palms, trembling and pale.
“Something’s wrong. I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t remember anything!”
He’d wept in frustration, clenching his teeth and shaking his head repeatedly. No matter what Nakagawa said, nothing seemed to reach him.
“Does this have anything to do with the disturbance in his energy?”
“I don’t know. But it does seem to be connected.”
Reijirou’s hand stopped on his arquebus as he pondered in all seriousness. —Did he have a memory problem?
“I think it would be better to stop involving Ougi in the Red Whales’ activities.”
“Are you saying we should kick him out?”
“I didn’t say that. But I don’t think it’s right for us to use his power so casually. If his being here is bad for him, we should let him go.”
“...Hmm. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Shouldn’t we look into his identity more carefully? I know you want his power to make up for the lack of the Life-Ripping Star. But he’s too much of an unknown.”
Nakagawa didn’t often get involved in other people’s affairs, so he must be very concerned about the situation. But Reijirou brushed it off as unnecessary.
“It doesn’t matter who Ougi is. I have no intention of prying.”
“Please listen, Kada-san. I think Ougi may—actually be kanshousha.”
As expected, even Reijirou reacted to that. With ample opportunity to medically observe Takaya, Nakagawa had begun to harbor suspicions about his nature.
“The poison in his body is so psychically strong that I can’t say for sure, but I think he may have performed embryonic kanshou on his host.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Even if we can’t see the psychic scar, his being an embryonic kanshousha would make sense. If he’s used «power» before, it would explain his conduct at the cave. You’ve suspected, haven’t you, Kada-san?” Reijirou was silent.
“Life and death are the last bastion of order. You shouldn’t exist...!”
(You shouldn’t exist...)
He didn’t utter a rebuttal because that thought had stuck. In Nakagawa was combined the compassion of a doctor and its antithesis: the coldness of a soldier.
“If he’s a kanshousha with a grudge against the Red Whales, we must take measures. Especially so if he has anything to do with the onshou—a seed of disaster must be dealt with as soon as possible.”
“Take measures? Are you saying we should use poison to kill Ougi?”
“Kada-san.”
“He has all the qualifications needed to join the Red Whales. That much is certain, no matter who he is. He wouldn’t be living like an animal unless he was being chased by something. Aren’t the Red Whales supposed to be a place for the hunted and oppressed?”
There were no barriers. They didn’t ask about past lives lived in past eras, families of origin, or why anyone was on the run. They accepted the oppressed. This was the highest creed of the Red Whales. Although some of his fellow Tosa compatriots resisted the inclusion of outsiders, Reijirou’s view had remained unchanged since the group’s founding.
“It doesn’t matter if he’s kanshousha or a monster. He’s a man who needs revenge more than anyone else. I understand that. He’s a man born to fight. There will come a time when he realizes that for himself.”
“Even if it leads to the destruction of the Red Whales?”
“The Red Whales will not be destroyed so long as the oppressed continue to exist.”
Nakagawa knew that Reijirou’s broad-mindedness had nurtured the Red Whales, but who was to say it wouldn’t backfire? His anxiety would not go away.
“Tell Ougi that whatever he’s forgotten, he’ll eventually remember. Until then, there’s no use flailing about. He needs to concentrate on the Hakuchi attack.”
“Kada-san.”
He began cleaning his gun again, refusing to discuss the matter further. Nakagawa watched as Reijirou oiled the trigger with a firm hand. In terms of ideals, Reijirou’s were far more profound than Kusama’s. One might say he had his own unique ideology. He was on a different level from Kusama, for whom Chousokabe was still the center of the world.
(Kada-san’s ideas are beyond Kusama-san’s understanding.)
Kusama would never allow a vassal from another family to enlist. Reijirou would; it didn’t matter to him.
“If he’s being pursued.”
Ideals that floated too high tended to crash back down to earth upon meeting reality. Tolerance was important, but they had to be on their guard.
(Ougi Takaya—...)
Was he really someone ‘out for revenge’? Or did he ‘cry out for power’?
At this point, it was hard to say. The morning of the attack on Hakuchi arrived with the question still unresolved.
Kada and his team joined up with the advance party and bivouacked for four days at Nakanishi Castle, a fort on the opposite bank, to await the right time for the castle assault. This operation would take much longer than their previous. However, once they launched their general offensive, they had to achieve their objective before reinforcements arrived. Time and timing would determine the outcome.
The term ‘castle assault’ meant something completely different from what it had meant four hundred years ago. In the «Yami-Sengoku», the term ‘castle’ meant ‘a point of confluence or relay position for spiritual power’. If one called the reach of a single onshou’s power his ‘sphere of influence’, then a castle was a pylon that supported and transmitted that power.
For the Miyoshi (Sogou) forces, Hakuchi was their Iyo/Tosa front line. A castle on the front line had two functions: to prevent enemy invasion and to serve as a base from which to make advances of their own. In such a place there was always a magnetic field that concentrated friendly spiritual power into a particularly stable force. The castle’s shape differed from one onshou to another, but Miyoshi’s was certainly a true ‘tower of steel’.
A lodging facility called the Convenient Recuperation Center [Awanosyou Inn] now stood over the ruins of Hakuchi Castle. On its grounds, Miyoshi had built a gigantic steel tower. It was 80 meters (~262 ft) tall. Local residents found the fact that it wasn’t strung with any transmission lines strange; its transmission lines were actually invisible, and they carried—not electricity—but spiritual power.
The operation’s main objective was to destroy or occupy this spiritual steel tower.
They also had to drive out the Miyoshi soldiers residing in the building in order to seize Hakuchi Castle completely.
“There’s no need to hold back. This castle did, after all, belong to Chousokabe.”
Eikichi’s thinking was unequivocal. What was wrong with taking back something that belonged to you? was his logic. It had actually belonged to Miyoshi ally the Oonishi Clan until Motochika had taken it and made it a defensive position in his conquest of northern Shikoku. He’d held his peace negotiations with Hideyoshi there.
“We’re only returning it to its true master. We’ll give it our all.”
Hakuchi Castle was located on a 40-meter high (~131 ft) river terrace at the confluence of the Yoshino and Umaji Rivers. On the opposite banks of each river were smaller castles: Hanakoma Castle and Nakanishi Castle. Of these, they had already succeeded in capturing Nakanishi Castle on Yoshino River’s far shore. The Red Whales would use it as a base from which to attack the castle.
This time, it wouldn’t be a night attack. They would fight in board daylight. Broadly speaking, the plan’s first target would be Mt. Tenjin behind Hakuchi Castle. They were to occupy Mt. Tenjin Shrine at its summit, which would leave Hakuchi Castle sandwiched between it and Nakanishi Castle. They would siphon off the power gathered at the tower from both sides and disperse it. Once it was weakened, they would fall upon the tower in one fell swoop.
Timing, speed, and sheer force. In the best-case scenario, they would connect the pylon to the spiritual wave line from the Tosa side before enemy could react—before they could concentrate spiritual power from Awa on Hakuchi. In other words, change the wire. If that couldn’t be done, they needed at the very least to destroy the tower and make restoration difficult. Not having the use of the Life-Ripping Star was painful. Its terrifying power would’ve been like having a cannon. It wouldn’t have taken long for the castle to fall.
Reijirou had decided that it would be impossible to achieve the original target (occupying Hakuchi) and had decided instead to destroy the steel tower. They would take the castle afterwards. Iwata’s unit was to attack Mt. Tenjin, while his own and Hikawa’s teams would blow up the steel tower. Each unit was further subdivided into three to carry out the operation. Takaya’s commando unit needed to be mobile in order to provide support during the battle. One or a pair of men were assigned a motorcycle and radio.
The operation had already begun. Until the calls came in, Takaya and his team would stay on alert at the rear, in a dilapidated rest house along the national highway. It was a holiday, so they didn’t stand out much, dressed as they were for touring. They’d rented a single room to act as their operations room. Each unit reported in via radio.
But there was no sign of Takaya in the operations room. He was on the bank of the Yoshino River below.
“Captain,” called Someji Shingo, a member of his unit, as he descended to the river. He’d heard Someji was a former member of the Tosa Imperialist Party, the same as Utarou. He looked old, but one certainly wouldn’t call him an old man. He was wearing a vintage flight jacket and jeans, and he rode a Harley. He looked like an easy rider in the prime of his life.
Takaya was sitting along a rocky stretch. The wind blowing from the Yoshino River, which became the Ooboke-Koboke river gorge upstream, was exceptionally cold, and the riverbank was exposed.
“You’ll get a chill if you stay here. Why not go inside?”
“Is there any movement?”
“No. Nothing big yet.”
“I didn’t think so. I don’t expect anything for another two or three hours.”
Takaya told him to go inside and have a cup of coffee, and turned away. He’d only been in the building with his team for the first ten minutes or so; rather than attempting to build rapport with them, he seemed to reject them.
“Please come inside with the others. Everyone’s getting anxious without you there, Captain.”
“Without me there’s no unity, you’re saying? Don’t worry,” Takaya said, looking at the stream lapping at the rocks. “You just have to follow instructions. We’re not here to make friends.”
“But—”
“They’re unified enough with you there. Not like they’ll even listen to a newcomer. Those roughnecks.”
With their roughness peeping through every word. Spurring harshness and sharpness. Influenced by that, probably.
“Isn’t it a bit irresponsible to talk like that?”
“Irresponsible? I don’t remember accepting responsibility for anything. You people just decided to impose yourselves on me.”
Takaya was a hard case. Someji attempted persuasion, but Takaya was not listening.
“I’m not gonna do anything but the bare minimum. If you don’t like it, kick me out.”
Someji’s temper frayed. He gave up and went back to the rest house. Takaya covered his face with his hand. His mouth curved into a smile.
(Might as well get killed here.)
Wasn’t it a surprisingly good opportunity? If you can’t kill yourself, why not have someone do it for you? He would join the onshou war and die in battle.
(Stop it. You’re drunk.)
He had shielded himself when things became dire. Blame it on the stubbornness of life... He couldn’t take the last step off the cliff. If he couldn’t defy it, if he couldn’t overcome it, why not just disappear? The suffering would, too. But even if he died, his consciousness would remain.
Even if he were not ‘Uesugi Kagetora’. Even if he were purified and became someone else, ‘he’ would remain. There was no escape.
He envied the self that had believed that death was nothingness.
(Will I be happy if this ‘consciousness’ disappears?)
He thought about those whose wishes were granted by a ‘demon’ and disappeared after receiving its power. Were they happy? Wasn’t peace thinking about nothing?
(At that point, you don’t even feel at peace...)
Existence was a mysterious thing. What was it? How strange that he could not allow himself to live without a reason, though nature did allow it. Wasn’t it ridiculous that he couldn’t live if he didn’t have value?
(Life can exist without heart.)
Was that...
How long was he to stay in this place?
Naoe—was coming after him. That was something he would do, even if he had to throw everything else away. Takaya knew it, even if he couldn’t see him. Naoe would abandon Uesugi and everything else without hesitation. It was perfectly clear to him that Naoe would come after him without regard for any crime he might commit, even if he had to cover himself in scars. He knew that. Unless Takaya died and was purified—Naoe would one day catch up with him. I know you’re searching for me right now. I can hear your voice.
Had he wanted Naoe to abandon Uesugi? To abandon the «Yami-Sengoku»? No. He hadn’t wanted that, had he? Did he want Naoe to give up, then? Give up on Takaya, return to Uesugi and do what he should have done...
(No.)
Takaya shook his head.
(That’s not what I said at all.)
It wasn’t what he wanted Naoe to do. Not this. He didn’t want Naoe to find him. He had to escape Naoe because—
(I’m afraid.)
His reasons were not pretty. He believed that the next time they met, it would be the last time. He knew that he would never be able to leave Naoe again, even though he knew he would kill him. He would consume Naoe greedily and endlessly, no matter how much agony he caused. Like a female mantis, he would eat and eat until he killed Naoe, until he demolished him. He would sway over Naoe as he died, his hips thrusting over his corpse. Even if you want to live, I’ll pursue you hellishly with no regard for your life.
(I’m afraid...)
He would never be able to stop himself. Even now he was barely holding himself back. Masturbation was no longer enough. His body hungered for Naoe, and he couldn’t stop the swelling urge. Only surface tension allowed him to choke it down. When next they met, it would burst. He would forget how harmful he was. I will breathlessly devour your lips, straddle you and fuck you to death. He wasn’t only going to be filled. There was also the dark rapture of being conquered by the man he had dominated. He had always both feared it and desired it. As Naoe fucked him with both a wild beast’s fierceness and gentleness, he would be both supplicant and victor; Naoe would be the king who cornered him at last with thrilling caresses. Victory and defeat would fuse and collapse; though both present, neither would remain. Their arms, reaching desperately out for each other, would transform them into something never seen before. The naked figure which discarded all ornamentation held everything.
He was no longer the person who had left Naoe: he was worse. His desire was swelling with more love, more savagery. He had certainly surpassed even Naoe’s love. If he didn’t hold himself back, his desire would become—not love, but violence.
He was afraid. He’d intended to find a place to die, but in the end he hadn’t even accomplished that. Like this, he would slowly erode away into nothing.
(Why have you left me alone when you know I’m dangerous?)
Heaven couldn’t allow something like him to do as he pleased. He was too dangerous. He couldn’t stop. He was already going crazy. He couldn’t even remember his best friend’s name. Before he truly became a harmful animal—vermin, he needed a place to die. An ending place. You must give me that, while I’m still human.
(Please...)
Nakagawa and Utarou watched Takaya crouched on his rock from the shoulder of the national highway. Nakagawa had used his position as a military doctor to forcibly attach himself to the unit.
“Should I call him, Nakagawa-san?”
“No. I’ll keep watch. You go inside and drink some warm milk.”
“I’ll get some for Ougi-san too, then,” Utarou said, and ran back to the rest house.
Nakagawa was sitting on the guardrail, looking down at Takaya on the riverbank. Takaya spurned and vented his anger on everyone around him because he was intensely impatient and afraid.
“He’s a man who needs revenge more than anyone else.”
(Ougi Takaya...)
The wind from upstream was so cold that even his fingers had turned numb. Was he trying to hurt himself in this cold? Takaya didn’t seem to want to leave.
But the battle was already heating up. The attack began on the summit of Mt. Tenjin. Iwata’s troops, who had begun their march in the mountains at dawn, arrived at last to set off the operation. Miyoshi’s observation platform was located here. Fifty spirits, thirty of them with bodies, kept a watchful eye on the Iyo-Tosa area.
They encountered fiercer resistance than anticipated. The enemy’s forces were also comprised of elite troops, and Eikichi and his men barely managed to occupy the position after desperately hard fighting.
“All right! That’s one!” he cried in triumph without even bothering to wipe the blood from his face.
“We’ll soon turn this place into a castle for the Red Whales! Cut off all communication with the fort below! Let not a single enemy escape!”
Iwata’s troops, who had thus taken Hakuchi Castle’s rear, immediately began to set up their device without pausing to catch their breath. Said device was an enormous parabolic antenna named a ‘byoubu’ [folding screen wind], a spiritual tool created by the Red Whales. They assembled it and directed it toward the foot of the mountain. A second identical device had been installed at Nakanishi Castle on the river’s opposite shore. It served as a magnet, acting as a giant vacuum cleaner to suck up the spiritual power of Hakuchi Castle. The divine power of Mt. Tenjin Shrine was its motor.
“Start it up on my signal. We’re counting on you! Battle squad, follow meee!”
Eikichi on the battlefield was a fish in water, a monkey home in its mountains. He wasn’t one to command from a fixed position.
“We’re gonna beat them down, beat them into the dust!”
He ran down the mountain at the head of his troops, ready to cross swords with the enemy.
Meanwhile, Kada Reijirou was at Nakanishi Castle on the other side of the river. The battle progress wasn’t bad. However, the turn of battle depended on the enemy’s movements. Their main camp had already acquired the appearance of a field hospital, with soldiers running, bellows thundering past each other, and a great deal of information flying about. Reijirou observed Hakuchi Castle on the other side of the river from the observation platform.
“What a terrible castle! How can the air be so thick?”
Mutou Ushio was there too, standing next to Reijirou, looking overwhelmed.
“It’s not mist, is it? That. The air is so thick I can’t see in front of me. You’re not going to plunge in, are you?”
What Ushio called ‘air’ was Miyoshi’s spiritual power gathered in Hakuchi Castle. Ushio’s «power» was still poor, but his psychic senses were sharp, and he could see that Hakuchi was different.
“The ‘two byoubu’ will start operating soon.”
“Isn’t it a bit of a waste? Are you going to destroy that tower?”
“I’d take it from them if I could, but I don’t think we can. They have a special trump card.”
"A trump card?
“The curse-burning fire.”
Hakuchi Castle was equipped with a special device which made casual approach impossible.
“Course-burning fire? What is that? Something wrapped in aluminum foil?”
“Are you an idiot? It means to burn something enchanted.”
Using the spiritual power gathered by the steel tower as fuel, it instantly incinerated any foreign bodies encroaching on the castle. Once activated, the intruder was instantly reduced to ashes.
“For real...? You can’t escape?”
“Because invaders will necessarily be wearing armor. The more spiritual power you accumulate, the hotter the ‘curse-burning fire’ will burn. That’s the mechanism that presents the biggest obstacle for attacking the castle.”
In order to take the castle, they first had to remove this obstacle. That was why their first priority was to destroy the steel tower before it could be activated. Ushio shivered at the thought of plunging right into the middle of such a contraption.
“Fortunately, if we strike the control center, we can eliminate the problem. It’s not that easy, though. But once set in motion, the castle will be defenseless for several minutes. The enemy won’t be able to use it easily. We’ll take advantage of their hesitation to destroy the pylon.”
“Curse-burning? Are we like insects to them? They really treat us with contempt.”
“Hmmm. We’re not just any insects. Besides, termites can take down houses.”
Ushio was impressed by Reijirou’s upbeat attitude.
“You’re always so calm. You’re so confident that it’s almost detestable. Don’t you ever worry that you might fail?”
“I’m always worried,” he answered unexpectedly. “I’m not as confident as you think. Do I look that way to you?”
“Yeah, you do. You’d be more charming if you could feel intimidated sometimes.”
“You’re always thinking about trivial things.”
He didn’t show it, but though things were going well now, there was no telling how badly they might fall off a cliff the very next moment. He never counted on a favorable wind. He was sensitive to even the smallest piece of information regarding this war. Kusama, who tended to be more on edge normally, was, conversely, more relaxed in battle. This was where you could tell whether or not someone was suited to being a general, Reijirou thought.
“The battles where Kusama-san are present are calm. I’m not suited to be a mood-maker.”
“Really? You were magnificent at inciting them, though.”
“It’s easy to stir things up—it’s just pouring oil onto the fire. But war is different. You can’t win by bluffing.”
He couldn’t be calm unless someone else stood firm. He was the quintessential second-in-command type.
“You’re talking too much, as usual.”
“I can’t relax unless I’m talking.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, see?” Ushio pulled open his mountain jacket to show Reijirou. On his belt were an armor-orb, a psychic grenade, and even a pistol: a compact psychic gun, to be precise.
“Iwata and the others taught me how to use it. All you have to do is put your will into it, right?” Ushio’s tone was joking, but he was serious. “I’m different today. I’ve been practicing Usubae-ryuu for real. I’m not losing to Ougi.”
“That’s the spirit. ...Right! Are the two byoubu ready?”
A report confirmed its completion. The byoubu at Mt. Tenjin was ready. The red signal flag had been confirmed. Reijirou nodded firmly.
“The Kada Corps will now execute Operation No. 177. All battle groups will converge at Point B at 0800 hours! Construction teams will start induction at 1815! Attack Hakuchi Castle!”
The daring and spirited voices came back to him in unison, uniting the hearts of his comrades. Once the action began, success or failure would be left to the heavens. Reijirou raised his gun high in the air.
“Commence operation!”