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.