Book II 十 Part 10 (River)

Illustration by K. Ryan

The clearing reeked of springtime. The air was warm, dotted with butterflies as they drifted from one bloom to another. The plum trees blossomed earlier than cherries, arching overhead in splashes of pink and white. A single petal spiraled sleepily down before landing on Chiyo’s nose. The fox grimaced, snorting it off in irritation. She cared little for the beauty of the season and even less for the clearing itself. She didn’t, however, have the option to leave.

“Stay here,” Shichi had said. “He’ll be able to smell if you’re nearby.”

It had been an hour since he had left her there. Chiyo had resorted to pacing, her paws wearing away at the grass as she stalked back and forth. The egg lay bundled at the base of a tree, oblivious to her fretting.

“This was a bad idea,” she muttered to herself. “You’d better not be dead already. You’re probably dead, aren’t you?”

She glared in the direction he had left, her ears lying flat against her head.

“Stupid monk.”

Shichi was, in fact, not quite dead. He had gone a fair distance upriver, abandoning both the kitsune and his logic as he waited for Gin. The riverbank was a dreadfully vulnerable spot. The tree line was a fair distance away, leaving him with nothing but flat boulders and the moss beneath his feet. For a while, he simply stood, watching the languid flow of water. Hopefully, the nekomata would find him quickly.

Gin did not disappoint. The sun had barely moved in the sky before a low voice signaled the cat’s arrival.

“You thought you could disguise yourself? As a human?” he said, his words snaking through the air between them. “I could smell you a mile away.”

Shichi didn’t turn immediately, taking a moment to watch a leaf as it was carried off by the current.

“I had no intention of deceiving you. This, ah— this body was an accident,” he replied, folding his hands behind his back as he glanced back at the tremendous beast.

“Another lie,” came a coarse hiss. Gin was was now circling the monk, his claws cutting stripes into the moss as he slunk past. Shichi said nothing, only turning to look back at the water.

“Did the kitsune tire of you?” Gin continued, now sneering.

“I asked her to stay behind.”

“Stupid monk.”

Shichi fought the urge to frown. He’d been hearing that an awful lot lately.

“I wanted to talk with you,” he said. “If that’s all right.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Gin answered, his tails whipping past Shichi’s nose as he treaded by. The monk didn’t falter. He hadn’t expected the nekomata to be responsive and was fairly surprised he hadn’t been attacked yet.

“I know why you’re after me,” Shichi continued.

“You have no idea what I want.”

“You want the same thing everyone wants,” he said. “To be cared for — to be home.”

Gin’s chest swelled as he hissed, the air sucking in between pointed teeth. His stride quickened and his claws made audible scrapes over the slabs of rock below.

“I want you to die.”

“Killing me won’t give you the things you want. It won’t make you happy.”

“Yes,” Gin said, lowering his head. “It will.”

A roar bellowed over the river, echoing from the rock walls. The nekomata charged. Shichi’s back hit the water’s edge, sending forth a spray of white drops and foam. His vision flickered as his skull was dashed against a river stone, unable to see the blood that was now matting his hair.

“Gin,” he choked, his hands grasping the cat’s great face. Teeth snapped inches from his cheek, thrashing as he struggled to hold him back. The nekomata howled over him, deafening the monk as the two bodies tumbled into the water. A paw found his throat and Shichi found himself thrust beneath the surface, a cloud of bubbles bursting from his parted lips. Claws dug into the flesh over his collarbone, sending three streams of red trailing upwards.

He couldn’t breathe. The water rippled above him and through it, he could see those eyes — green, glowing eyes narrowing as they watched him drown. He could hear pebbles clattering through the river, the sound magnified against his ears. The back of his head was pounding, staining the river as he bled into the current. His insides began to scream for air.

He really was a stupid monk.

Once more he could hear the clacking of stones as they were loosened by the struggle. His hand slapped into the water, desperately patting the riverbed until his fingers closed around a single smooth rock.

‘I’m sorry,’ he thought. A moment later, there was a crack as the stone swept across the cat’s soft nose. The beast jolted above him, tossing his head with a sharp screech. Shichi gasped as his face broke the surface, coughing and gagging as he attempted to fill his lungs. Dragging himself backwards, he slipped out from under the cat’s claws as Gin continued to shake his head.

For a while, Shichi could only stare. Water dripped from his hair, the dark strands clinging to his face. He panted, watching as the cat continued to fuss and splash before him. Gin was recoiled in pain, his wet fur standing on end as he pawed his own face.

After a minute, the monk sighed.

“Come now, I didn’t hit you that hard,” Shichi said with as much patience as he could muster.

“Yes you did,” the nekomata replied, snapping his head up to deliver a cold glare. “Monks aren’t supposed to hurt anyone.”

“Well, yes, but you were trying to drown me.”

Gin only let out a huff of air. He had lost the fire in his eyes, now just a great sopping cat with a bleeding nose.

“I suppose you thought I’d be an easy target,” Shichi said as he pushed the wet hair from his eyes. He winced as his fingertips brushed the wound on the back of his skull.

“You are an easy target.”

“That’s a bit cowardly, don’t you think?” he asked, examining the blood on his fingers.

Gin’s spine stiffened. He held his breath for a beat, his chest puffed indignantly.

“Fine,” he spat, averting his eyes. “Fine. I’m a coward. Do you have any other names you’d like to call me?”

“I didn’t say you were a coward. You just did a cowardly thing. We all do, sometimes.”

The riverside was silent for a while — only the rush of the current could be heard as the two looked at one another. Gin’s next breath caught halfway down his throat, drawing a shudder from his bony shoulders. He dropped his head, catching his own reflection in the water’s surface.

“…Even you?”

“Especially me,” Shichi said, shaking his head.

“Then you’re no better than I am,” Gin said, his voice a near-whisper.

“No, Gin,” the monk said, closing his eyes. “I’m not.”

A thunderous growl snapped his eyes back open. Shichi braced himself, only stopping when he realized the sound hadn’t come from Gin.

The kitsune, now matching the cat in size, collided into the him in a flash of teeth and water. Their bodies twisted into the river, both yokai gnashing and tearing at one another. It had only taken a few minutes for the fox to come running once she’d heard Gin’s roar and a mere second to see the blood matted in Shichi’s hair.

“Chiyo, wait!”

Neither beast paid him any mind, only plunging deeper into the water as they fought. The monk stumbled forward, his eyes widening at the sight of bloodied fangs. If Gin’s reaction to a simple rock was any indication, he would be no match for Chiyo.

As Shichi reached forth, a sickening crack filled the air. The nekomata shrieked, pinned below Chiyo’s tapered claws. He thrashed in agony, helpless as she bared her teeth for a killing blow.

“Stop!”

With all of his strength, he threw his arms around the kitsune’s neck. Her teeth snapped thin air. She wrenched herself forward, consumed by rage and the sight of blood.

“I’ll kill him!” she roared, lurching towards Gin’s prone body.

“Chiyo,” he said, his fingers tightening on her fur. “You can stop.”

Her struggle eased, though her eyes remained locked on her victim. The kitsune’s chest was heaving, her body drenched and muddied in his grasp.

“It’s okay,” Shichi said, speaking against her twitching ear. “Let him go.”

For a moment, she simply stood, panting as she eyed her prey. Soon, her pulse slowed. He could feel her calm beneath his arms, lowering her head in cessation. His hands loosened, waiting to see if she would change her mind.

She didn’t. In an instant, Shichi turned to the nekomata. He paused — no great beast lay before him. There was only a cat, small and gray, lying unconscious and half-submerged. The monk knelt, carefully lifting the small body from the water. He was limp in Shichi’s arms, his coat matted with red.

“His leg is broken,” Shichi said, treading back to the riverside.

“Good,” Chiyo muttered behind him.

“What part of ‘let’s help him’ did you interpret as ‘let’s nearly kill him?’” Shichi said, giving his friend a faint glare.

“He attacked you! Would you rather he’d ripped you to shreds?”

“Yes— I mean, no,” the monk stammered. “I— we were only talking.”

“Some talk.”

“And where’s the egg? You didn’t leave it alone in that clearing, did you?”

“Um,” Chiyo said, now unable to make eye contact. “Maybe.”

Shichi sighed, his shoes leaving a trail of wet footprints as he headed back to the forest.

“Wait, what are you doing? You’re not bringing that thing with us, are you?” Chiyo said, treading after him.

“Of course I—“ he started, then paused, his balance wavering. The kitsune ducked forward, moving just in time to catch him on her back.

“I— I must have hit my head harder than I thought,” Shichi said, squeezing his eyes shut as he held to her shoulder. His other arm cradled Gin, keeping the cat close to his chest. Though he had nearly fallen, he’d made sure to keep the fractured leg steady.

“Only talking,” Chiyo said with a snort, supporting her friend as they moved on.

With some effort, they reached the clearing. Shichi quickly set to work, placing Gin on a folded cloth before tying up his sleeves.

“It’s displaced,” he mumbled as he examined the broken leg. The bone had broken into two pieces, making his task all the more difficult.

“You’re fixing his leg? What about you?” Chiyo said, sneering as she spoke. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

“Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you keep the egg warm?”

Chiyo didn’t respond, only giving her body a hard shake. Droplets of water splattered through the air, several of them hitting the monk’s face. He rubbed an arm over his cheek, giving her a glance of disapproval before turning back to his patient. Chiyo grimaced, first at Shichi, then at the egg. After a bit of pacing, she gave in, settling down with the egg tucked at her side. Her grimace remained.

Shichi wasted no time tending to the fracture. Gingerly, he positioned the limb, making sure the bone was aligned before wrapping it in cloth. A set of straight sticks followed, set on either side to ensure it would remain even. Gin was sure to be in pain once he awoke — Shichi would have to prepare some turmeric to ease the inflammation.

Finally, the bone was set, allowing the doctor to rest his hands. He let out a slow breath, wiping his sleeve over his forehead.

“I’m done,” he said, searching their bag for a bandage.

“What about your head?” Chiyo asked. She had shifted to her human form, using her fingers to peel their last mikan.

“It’s just a little concussion,” he explained, wrapping the dressing around the wound. “The blood made it look worse.”

“Oh, good. Can we go, now?”

“I suppose so. But someone needs to carry him,” Shichi said, glancing down at Gin. The cat was still unconscious, his thin chest rising and falling with his breath.

“You mean you need to carry him.”

“You’re the one who broke his leg,” Shichi said, frowning at the white-haired woman before him.

“You’re the one who had this stupid idea to begin with.”

“All right, all right,” Shichi said, raising both hands. “No more bickering. We’ll settle this like adults.”

They looked at one another before Chiyo gave a nod of understanding.

“Jan ken pon!” they said in unison, pumping their fists with each beat. Chiyo immediately groaned.

“I believe paper beats rock,” Shichi said, giving her a smile.

“You cheated! Stop smiling!”

“Pick him up.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, waving him off as she reached for the cat.

“Not by the scruff!”

Gin remained asleep as they continued. Shichi was thankful for this. He was certain Gin would be less than agreeable upon waking and hoped his concussion might fade before the nekomata could start hissing and scowling at them.

Fortunately, they found a roadside inn as the sun finished setting. With both he and Chiyo in their human forms, requesting a room was remarkably easy. Shichi made sure to lower the brim of his hat as he spoke to the innkeeper, not wanting to reveal what was hidden beneath.

“You were right,” Shichi said as they settled into their tiny room. “It is easier like this.”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

“Plenty of—“

“Here, take the cat, I’m sick of holding him,” Chiyo interrupted, offering the nekomata with her hands tucked under his arms.

“Be careful, his leg needs to stay straight,” Shichi said, easing Gin down onto a cushion. For a while, he simply watched the poor creature, taking note of his coarse fur and flea-bitten ears. There was only one thing he could think of doing and this might be his only chance to do so.

With a washbowl, cloth, and scissors, he set to cleaning the cat. He trimmed the burrs and matted fur, scrubbing out the mud and dirt caked over his body. Little by little, Gin’s coat began to show its true color. With gentle strokes, the monk combed him down, smoothing the fur along the grain.

“Hey,” Chiyo said, her voice rising in irritation. “That’s my comb.”

“Would you rather carry a dirty cat or a clean one?”

“I’d rather not carry him at all.”

It was then that Gin shifted in his sleep, his ears flicking in discomfort. His eyes were tightly shut, hinting at somber, unseen dreams. Shichi could recall the same sight from his own dreams — the cat’s uneasy twitches and the simple touch his master had calmed him with. His hand lifted, hesitating.

The nekomata shivered, letting out a weak mewl in his sleep. Shichi slowly gave in, reaching down to scratch behind his pointed ears. He moved gently, running his fingertips over the now-clean fur. Within seconds, the trembling subsided. The cat’s breathing slowed as his muscles lost their stiff tension.

“You’re fine, Gin,” Shichi said, his voice as soft as the lamplight. The nekomata looked different after his cleaning, yet at the same time, terribly familiar. He was the same cat Shichi had seen in his dreams — the same who had lived a simple life on a simple farm.

“You’re going to be just fine.”