Book II 十五 Part 15 (Princess)

Illustration by K. Ryan

“Is this everything?” Chiyo asked, folding the last of her clothes into a neat pile. Her fondness for fine clothing was apparent, as she never took such proper care of anything else. Shichi placed a satchel of food into his bag, closing the top with a tug of the drawstring.

“We’re still missing Gin.”

“So, yes.”

Shichi gave her a pointed look.

“Fine, I’ll go find him. He’s probably stuck in a box again,” Chiyo said. She made a dramatic show of standing, stretching, and stalling before the tengu shooed her out with both hands. Once she had left, Shichi turned to look across the main room of Izumi’s house. It was empty.

Over a month had passed since they’d first arrived at the little town. As the weeks passed, one villager after another had regained their strength and returned to their homes. Now, the only souls left in Izumi’s home were the girl and her family. His work was finished.

Izumi emerged from the kitchen holding a single water gourd. She knelt beside the monk, placing the vessel in his hands.

“I’m sorry to see you go,” she said. “I wish we could have given you more.”

Shichi watched her for a moment. Her expression was soft, a contrast from the fear she had shown upon seeing his true form for the first time. He could clearly recall her threats and the fire poker gripped in her hands. Izumi had overcome her bias and apprehension, welcoming him into her home, showing him the same respect as any human, if not more.

“You gave me more than I could have hoped for,” he said softly. “For that, you have my thanks.”

It felt natural to be on the road again. In the time they had been in the village, spring had reached its peak. The cherry trees were bursting with color, their fragrant petals falling like snow and nestling between the curled roots along the path. Shichi inhaled deeply, taking a moment to let the dappled sunlight warm his face.

The moment did not last long.

“Again!” Gin said, his body tucked loosely beneath Chiyo’s arm. “Again, you almost drop me. How hard is it to carry a cat?”

The kitsune sneered, baring her teeth as she spoke. “Pretty hard when I’ve also got a week’s worth of food and water to hold.”

“I can help,” Shichi said, eyeing the load in her arm.

Chiyo blew her white bangs out of her eyes with a huff. “Yeah, right. With those weak arms? You can barely hold that egg.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Leave the cat.”

“We’re not leaving him here.“

The kitsune groaned. “Okay, let’s leave him further up the road.”

“Honestly, I can help you carry—“

“No, you can’t. You’re—“

“That’s enough!” Gin said, his voice startling the two into complete silence. Slowly, they glanced toward the cat.

“Put me down,” the nekomata said with a hiss. Chiyo didn’t need to be told twice. She knelt, dropping the cat onto the dusty road. He shook his head, then snapped his attention upwards.

“I can’t take anymore,” he said, “of you— you idiots! I can walk, all right? I can walk.”

He pulled himself up on his legs, his fur puffed in agitation. The two said nothing, only staring as he attempted to kick off the splint. The cat stumbled, gnawing at the wrappings before tearing them off entirely. The stick that had supported his leg clattered to the ground, leaving his limb bare and bristled. Gin glared at them with glassy eyes, then turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Shichi said.

“You don’t have to carry me around anymore. I’m fine.”

“We know.”

The cat froze in mid-step. Gin swallowed, then slowly looked back over his shoulder. “You do?”

“Well, yeah. It was really obvious,” Chiyo said. “I’ve seen you sneaking around about a dozen times.”

The cat’s eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to black slivers. He said nothing, seemingly paralyzed in place.

“Gin,” Shichi said, his voice firm. “It doesn’t matter if you’re injured or not. You’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you like.”

The tengu gave Chiyo a gentle nudge.

“Yes,” Chiyo said, her voice painfully flat. “We love you. Stay forever.”

He nudged her once more, only not so gently. As the two exchanged a mixture of glares and scowls, Gin finally spoke.

“You want me to stay?”

“Of course we do.”

“And not just to watch your stupid egg?”

Shichi lifted the egg with both hands. “I think I can handle it from here.”

Gin’s eyes fell, watching the pale petals on the ground. After a long bout of deliberation, he turned to face them properly.

“Well.” Gin’s tails flicked as he forced the next words from his mouth. “All right. But only because Chiyo begged.”

Shichi snagged the back of her collar before she could stomp towards him.

“I’m glad to hear it,” the tengu said. Gin trotted back to their sides, ignoring the kitsune’s perpetual glower. The three continued on their way, leaving only the remains of a forgotten splint in the path behind them.

Shichi could smell the sea before he could see it. Hints of salt and port timber lingered in the evening air, growing stronger as they approached the outskirts of a post town. The main path was visible from the forest passage they had taken. It seemed they had once again found themselves on the Tokaido Road.

The tengu paused at the edge of the trees. His dark feathers blended into the shadows, keeping him out of sight as he considered his next step. The road was humming with traffic. Humans bustled past, carrying goods to and from the town ahead.

“Is this another station?” he asked, his voice soft as he addressed Chiyo.

The kitsune nodded. “It’s Yokkaichi, the forty-third station.”

Shichi’s eyes fell. The forty-third — they had only come seven stations since the first post town. At this rate, they were likely to reach their destination in a year. That wasn’t promising.

“How many more do we have left?” Gin asked, echoing the monk’s thoughts.

Chiyo’s lips flattened. “Well, we’re going to Edo, so… forty three.”

The nekomata groaned, slumping into the bushes. “I made a mistake. I’m leaving.“

“Just shut up and get on the road.”

“What’s the point? No inn is going to take a tengu for the night.”

“Watch what you—“

“He’s right, Chiyo.” Shichi shook his head. “Unless we can find another Urameshiya, I’m going to have to try transforming again.”

Urameshiya — the name tasted bittersweet on his tongue. They had been fortunate to find an inn that welcomed yokai in Osaka, though it was unlikely they would be so lucky again.

The kitsune, folded her arms. “Well, go ahead then.”

Shichi lowered his eyes as if in meditation. The last time he’d transformed had been in dire circumstances, forcing him to overcome his fears and failings to save a village. Now, his only goal was to sleep in a bed instead of the forest floor. There was no adrenaline in his veins, nor desperation in his heart. He focused, trying to ignore the sound of travelers shuffling by just past the trees.

After a moment, he glanced up. Both Chiyo and Gin were staring at him expectantly.

The tengu’s face grew hot. “I can’t do it when you’re watching me.”

His companions scoffed, begrudgingly turning their eyes away. Once more, he centered his thoughts. A tingling ran through his limbs. His pulse quickened as feathers and claws dissolved, baring fair skin and flat nails. Once the feeling subsided, he lifted his hands. They were human.

Shichi smiled in spite of himself. “That was much easier than last time.”

“Wonderful, you’re a natural.” Chiyo waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go.”

Before the two could step onto the road, Gin’s voice caught them from behind.

“Hold on,” the nekomata said. “I’ll change, too.”

With seemingly little effort, Gin’s body rose. He shifted faster than they could follow, his head lifting just inches past Chiyo’s. His human form was that of a young man, his chin narrow and his hair dark. Two silver locks sprouted from his crown, the same color that had once tipped the cat’s ears. His feline eyes remained a bright, watchful green. There was no mistaking this human as anyone but Gin.

Chiyo stared, caught off guard by his new shape. “You have a human form.”

“Well, of course.”

“Great.” With a grunt, she deposited an armload of rations and supplies into his hands. “You carry this.”

“But—“

“You owe me.”

Gin fumbled with the weight, his lips returning to a familiar frown. It seemed he was already regretting his transformation.

The town was filled with throngs of pilgrims, each journeying to the grand shrines of Ise. Chiyo had no trouble slipping through the crowds, a task which proved to be a bit more challenging for the monk. He was bumped by a passing merchant, the man’s pack heavy with iron pots. A hanging kettle bounced on the back of Shichi’s head, forcing his sugegasa down over his face.

“Ah.” Shichi hissed in pain. As he reached up to adjust the straw hat, the sight of black froze his hands. His arm had returned to its original color, dark and sleek with feathers. His eyes rounded and he scrambled to cover the arm with his sleeve. He took a slow breath, ignoring the flocks of people to focus on his form. Slowly, his skin regained human color.

“Guess you’re not a natural after all,” Chiyo said. She slapped him on the back, once more jostling the hat and sending a few more feathers drifting down.

Shichi swallowed. “Why did—“

“You have to concentrate to keep that form. All beginners do.”

“I see,” he said. “I suppose I’m not used to such crowds.”

“It’s the fourth of the month. This town has a big market today. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it.”

“I’ve never—“

Chiyo waved him off. “All right, country boy. We get it.”

“I don’t like these crowds either,” Gin said. His eyes were darting back and forth, wary of each human that passed.

“Then you go find an inn,” Chiyo said. “Country boy and I will go shopping.”

Shichi nodded. “I need to buy some medicine to replenish—“

“All right, I’ll go shopping. Shichi can waste money on leaves and dirt. Meet back at this sign in two hours.”

Before either of them could protest, Chiyo had already disappeared into the crowd. The two stood in silence for a moment before looking at once another.

“We’d better do as she says,” Shichi said.

“Fine, give me the egg,” Gin said, his hands outstretched.

“I thought you didn’t want—“

“You seriously want it to get crushed in a crowd of humans? After I wasted a month of my life watching it?”

The monk restrained his smile, gently passing over the egg and sling. Gin hung the cloth over his shoulder, making sure it was secure before tucking the egg against his waist.

“There,” the nekomata said, finally satisfied. “Now go buy your flowers or whatever.”

“It’s not—“ Shichi began, then trailed as Gin’s body was swallowed by the river of townspeople. The monk frowned, then haughtily straightened his hat.

“It’s not all flowers.”

Though the market had many stalls, most were selling artisan crafts and food. Shichi passed a half dozen merchants selling local porcelain and found himself tempted to stop at another offering tea. This wasn’t, however, a mission to buy personal indulgences. The village had run his herb supplies dry and it would be unwise to continue without a proper stock. Focusing on his task, he lowered the brim of his hat and slunk further through the mass of humans.

As he reached the edge of the road, his eyes caught the sign of a medicine shop. He exhaled at the sight of it, eager to finish his errand and remove himself from the busy market. The medicine seller was seated outside, flanked by rows of skinned roots and coarsely ground formulas. A woody, bitter scent filled the air. For once, Shichi was glad the kitsune wasn’t around to complain about it.

He was already eyeing a particular batch of yarrow leaves when a small group of men rushed forth, brusquely shoving him aside. Shichi was about to open his mouth in protest when he saw that two of them had swords. One of the men was dressed in servant’s clothes, his head perfectly bald.

“You, medicine seller,” said an armed man, his voice loud with urgency. “Where is the physician who works on this street?”

The pharmacist rubbed his jaw in thought, apparently unfazed by the men’s weapons. “Ah, he’s on his way to Ise. He’s making his pilgrimage for the—“

“When will he return?”

“In a week or so, I suppose.”

The armed man hissed in irritation, then turned to speak among his companions. The men murmured to one another, shooting the pharmacist glances as they spoke. After a few nods, they seemed to come to an agreement.

“You’ll come with us.”

“Come with you?” The shop owner blinked. “Whatever for?”

“There is an illness. I cannot tell you more.”

The pharmacist only chuckled. “Me? Tend a patient? If you need me to grind stems or haggle prices, I’d be happy to help. But I am no doctor.”

There was a metallic clank as the man drew his sword, brandishing it in a show of force.

“You will come, or—“

“I’m a doctor,” Shichi said before he could stop himself. All eyes turned to the monk. He swallowed, resisting the urge to step backward. The servant looked Shichi over, seemingly evaluating him, then returned his attention to the shop owner.

“Don’t look at me.” The pharmacist raised his hands helplessly. “I’ve never seen him before.”

The servant let out a frustrated breath, then thrust his finger towards a random selection of herbs.

“Tell me, doctor. What are these?”

Shichi glanced down at the seeds, briefly noting their dark, wrinkled shells. “They’re black cardamom seeds.”

“And what are they for?”

“They help with the stomach and kidneys. They’re also an anti-diarrhetic.”

The human knit his brow, then pointed at a bundle of crimson flowers in a wooden vase.

“And these?”

“Those are tsubaki blossoms,” Shichi said. “They’re… decorative.”

The pharmacist coughed, obviously attempting to cover a laugh, while the servant’s face reddened to the same brilliant shade as the flowers. Shichi inwardly winced. Embarrassing the man would certainly not win his favor.

“Ah, but the seeds can be processed into an oil,” the monk said. “It’s useful for growing hair.”

This seemed to catch the human’s attention. “It is?”

Shichi nodded, averting his eyes from the man’s hairless crown.

The servant quickly turned back to the shop owner. “Do you sell—“

“Enough,” said another of the men. “You — pharmacist. Is this monk correct? Is he a physician?”

“Well, I can’t comment on his character.” The old man scratched the side of his face. “But he has the knowledge.”

“He’ll have to do. Take him.”

Shichi stiffened. “Take me where?”

“You’re coming to the jinya.”

A jinya — Shichi had only heard of such places in passing. They were government buildings, often used for administration of a district, as well as serving as villas for officials. Whoever was ill, they must have held some importance. As the men nudged him forward, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. Chiyo would certainly be upset if he were gone too long.

Before long, they reached the grounds. Tall, solid walls encompassed the property, giving only a peek of the structures that lay inside. As they approached the entrance, two guards pulled the heavy gates open. They creaked on their hinges, slowly revealing the inner courtyard.

Shichi had never seen such a grand residence before. Even the samurai’s property, the house that had once kept Kana, was a fraction of the size. His eyes caught servant’s quarters and large, earthen storehouses. Shogunate crests adorned hanging lanterns, each casting a soft glow on the walkway. Stout guard dogs stood at either side of the path, their ears alert as the men passed through. Shichi forced his eyes forward, his thoughts wandering to the patient.

“Who is—“

“Silence.”

Shichi closed his mouth, trying to ignore the heat in his ears. He supposed there was no time for talk.

They made their way into a long building, passing through a grand hall and into a corridor. As they reached an inconspicuous door, the party made a sudden stop.

The servant turned toward Shichi, his voice severe and his glare firm. “You will not make eye contact. You will speak of nothing but the patient’s illness. Do you understand?”

Shichi nodded. “Yes.”

A moment later, the door slid open. Shichi exhaled, then stepped into the wide room. On a thick futon in the center lay a single figure. The blanket rose and fell with the person’s breath. The monk crossed the tatami floor, kneeling beside the lavish bed to address his patient.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said. “I’m here to tend to your illness.”

The figure stirred, wearily turning to face the monk. Shichi blinked. She was a girl — a human girl no more than sixteen years of age. Her long, black hair was cut straight across her forehead, the rest draping over the silken bedding below. The girl’s round face and white complexion hinted at her opulent lifestyle — it was clear she rarely saw the light of day. Shichi quickly cast his eyes down.

“You’re a doctor?” she asked, her voice surprisingly strong.

“I am,” he said. “May I see your wrist?”

She lazily brushed aside her blanket, offering her wrist. Shichi took her pulse, centering his thoughts on each beat and making every effort to avoid the girl’s gaze.

“And your tongue?”

The girl opened her mouth, allowing him to check the color and texture. Shichi narrowed his eyes, feeling her throat for swelling and considering of the reddened edges of her nostrils. The entire examination was fairly quick and, once completed, he dropped his head.

“You have hay fever.”

“Hay fever?”

Shichi sighed. “Allergies.”

“What do you—“

“You have common spring allergies.”

Though the monk was relieved to see the girl was healthy, he could not help the twinge of annoyance that crossed his thoughts. Her men had threatened the pharmacist, then taken Shichi across the entire town to tend to her trivial discomforts. Commoners died every day with much less fanfare and drama. Even so, a patient was a patient. He pushed down his negativity, returning to the task at hand.

“Will I be all right?” she said, grasping the hem of her blanket.

“Y-yes.” Shichi cleared his throat. “You’ll be fine. I’ll ask your attendants to prepare a tea of stinging nettle. It should help with your cough.”

As he shifted to stand, her hand shot forth to grasp his wrist. He faltered, hoping the guards at the door hadn’t seen.

“Please,” she said, gazing upward. “Don’t leave yet.”

Shichi stared back at her, momentarily forgetting to avoid eye contact. “Is something else troubling you?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I knew I wasn’t sick. I lied to my servants and they believed me. I always get what I want.”

He paused, then lowered himself back to her side.

“Why did you lie?”

“For company. I have no one to talk to in this big house.”

Shichi fought the urge to sigh again. He was tempted to remind her that doctors were meant to cure disease, not loneliness, but was stopped by a hint of pity.

“Who are you, that you have this room all to yourself?”

“My name is Hime. The daikan — the magistrate, he’s my father. But he’s always so busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Shichi said, his expression softening. “Is there something I can do to help you?”

“Will you stay, just for a while?”

Shichi thought back to Chiyo’s request, certain he would be late to meet them. In spite of his obligation, he found himself concerned for the girl. It seemed she was sheltered from everything — from the sun, the sky, and other people. All the wealth in the world had little meaning without loved ones to share it with.

“All right,” he said. “But only for a moment. I need to return to my travel companions.”

Hime gave a sweet smile. “You’re traveling?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “East, on the Tokaido Road.”

“That sounds wonderful. Will you tell me what you are?”

“My name is Shichi. I’m a monk and a physician.”

The girl shook her head. “No. What you are.”

“I’m afraid I don’t—“

“Your eyes.” Her smile tensed. “They’re not human.”

Shichi took in a sharp breath, instinctively backing from her. It was now he remembered his promise to avoid eye contact. He cursed himself for being so careless, hurrying to hide his eyes in the shadow of his hat.

“Don’t be afraid. You can tell me the truth.” Hime’s smile hadn’t fallen.

“The truth,” he said.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He thought back to Izumi. She had feared the yokai at first, yet had eventually grown to respect him. Though gaining trust as a human had its advantages, being accepted in his true form was much more satisfying. Shichi waited, then lifted his head.

“I’m a tengu.”

To his surprise, her smile widened. “Are you really? I’ve never heard of a tengu that could shapeshift.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s a long story.”

“Will you show me? I’ve always wanted to see a real tengu.”

“Ah, I don’t think—“

As if reading his thoughts, she called out to the servants by the entrance. “Close the door!”

The door slid shut, leaving them in total privacy.

“It’s safe now. Please show me,” Hime said, her hands clasped together. “I don’t think I’ll ever have another chance.”

“Well, I— I suppose,” Shichi said. He ignored the knot in his stomach, slowly reaching up to remove his hat. This wasn’t a good idea. He was in a walled building filled with humans — armed humans. They would certainly be unhappy to see a tengu alongside the magistrate’s daughter. Yet, in spite of his fears, he thought of the girl, of her loneliness and thickly veiled view of the world. If it could make her happy, just for a moment, he couldn’t possibly turn her down.

He closed his eyes, shifting his focus away from his human body. Skin darkened and feathers spilled forth. Shichi was almost afraid to open his eyes. When he finally looked up, her expression startled him.

Hime’s face was overcome with delight. Her lips parted with a gasp and, without warning, she reached forward to grasp his arms.

“I knew it.”

“Ah.” His back stiffened at her touch. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “You’re perfect. You’re just perfect.”

There was a strange gleam in her eyes, one of greed — of desire. He was unsure of how to respond to such a comment.

“I see. If that’s all, I’d better—”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’ll be staying here.”

“That’s very kind, but I really must return to my companions.”

The girl’s fingers tightened. “It wasn’t an invitation. It was a command.”

“A-a command?”

“I like you. I want to keep you.”

Shichi’s voice failed him. The girl leaned closer, her cheek brushing the side of his face. He found himself unable to move, nor could he process what she was saying. Hime’s next words were whispered, tingling as she spoke into his feathers.

“And, as I told you…”

Her fingernails dug into his wrists as she smiled against his ear.

“I always get what I want.”