The bitter pinches and bites of winter weren’t strong enough to suppress Shichi’s newly adopted garden. Tending to the herbs and vegetables distracted him from the dragging grasp of failure, and so he was found outside more often than not. He had salvaged whatever plants he could, starting the rest of the garden from scratch. The previously scraggly, dry stalks were replaced with neat rows of white radish, cabbage, and medicinal herbs. There were pumpkins along the edge, their dark green rinds giving contrast to the earth beneath them. Soon, the garden was flourishing, each leaf fat with moisture and nutrients.
The restaurant attracted few customers in the morning, leaving Fumie free to accompany him in the enclosed yard. Chiyo had joined them, claiming that she needed fresh air and had nothing else to do.
“I’ve never seen the garden so healthy before,” Fumie said, each hand busy scratching the ears of her enormous dogs. “Do you think I can use the daikon soon?”
“They’re ready,” Shichi said, his tone unnaturally flat as he loosened the soil with a spade. “You won’t have to go to the market to make nabe tonight.”
“Wonderful! It’s so nice having you here to help me.”
Shichi nodded, suppressing the thought that he had wasted his time coming to the city. Though weeks had passed, the only patients he had been able to help were Fumie and her aching neck, as well as an occasional customer who’d had too much to drink. Shichi had the feeling that prescribing ginger for hangovers was not what his master had had in mind when she’d laid out his path.
“You really like those dogs,” Chiyo said, leaning back on her hands. Both she and Fumie were seated on the wooden deck, relaxing while the tengu did his work. It had taken Chiyo awhile to feel at ease around the beasts, but her innate fear of dogs was eventually overcome by their endearing passivity.
“Like them? I love them!” Fumie wrapped her arm around one of their massive necks. “Aren’t they sweet?”
“I suppose,” Chiyo said, her eyes half-lidded. “I’ve never seen anything like them before.”
“Neither had I. There was a customer once, from some distant island in the south. He couldn’t pay for his room, so he left me with these strange pups. They were so cute that I couldn’t say no. He said they’re called ‘shisa’.”
“What are their names?” Chiyo automatically inched away as one of them turned toward her voice. Its tongue lolled as it panted, exposing its teeth in a wide-lipped grin.
“He’s Kuri and she’s Anko,” Fumie said. “Don’t worry, they’re harmless. Well . . . to us.”
“What do you mean?” Chiyo said, still not moving any closer.
“They’re trained to keep humans out. They can smell one from the end of the alley. Even a well-disguised human wouldn’t make it to the entrance.”
“Oh, I see.” Chiyo brightened. The thought of a human-free dwelling was rather comforting to the kitsune. She and Shichi had previously just assumed that the inn was well-hidden.
“I know it sounds terrible, and I have nothing against humans,” Fumie said. “But whenever one comes by, things never go well.”
Her voice trailed as she recalled past experiences, her expression revealing the misfortune in each memory.
“Here.” Shichi approached to place a wide basket in Fumie’s hands. It was filled with plump radishes, their leafy tops hanging languidly over the edge. “More of them should be ripe by next week.”
“Thank you!” the innkeeper said, her red lips caught in a smile as she eyed the roots. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll make some lunch for everyone?”
“That’s very kind, but I’m going for a walk today. I’ll return in the evening.”
“You didn’t tell me we were going out.” Chiyo huffed, folding her arms in annoyance. “I don’t have the energy.”
“We’re not. I need some time to myself.”
“What?” She sat upright. “But someone has to look after you.”
“You’re tired,” Shichi said, using her own complaint against her. “I’ll be all right. You need rest anyway, with all the eating and napping you’ve been doing.”
Chiyo scowled as he walked past, her eyes following him until the door slid shut behind him. The kitsune bit her lower lip as her irritation began to ferment. Shichi had been growing increasingly distant. When she had first met him, there had been purpose in his eyes—a drive to keep going, to doing the right thing. Now, he was listless, only happy when his mind was occupied with that accursed garden. It was driving her crazy.
“So.” She turned to Fumie with a tight smile. “What’s for lunch?”
#
Shichi’s eyes were cast down as he walked, avoiding the passersby as he made his way south. Since his first humiliation at the clinic, he had made a dozen more attempts. Each time he had been turned away, rejected by even the sham doctors on the outskirts of town. No matter how insistently he had asked to prove himself, no one wanted to trust a tengu with their health. His heart had broken a little more with each passing day, leaving it in shambles inside his chest. That day, as he passed another clinic next to a row of restaurants, he couldn’t bring himself to try again. He walked on by, keeping his eyes down as he turned the corner.
There was no point in staying in the city. Though Fumie had shown him immeasurable kindness, he couldn’t be her gardener forever. He didn’t, however, have any idea of where else he could go. Was he intended to simply wander and hope he might cross paths with someone in need?
The city, which had once seemed so colorful, now felt dull and overwhelming. He began to notice the features that his awe-blinded eyes had previously overlooked—the scattered clutter and disrepair, the poor sitting hidden in alleys and shadows. Alongside the city’s elegance was its poverty—its parlors and brothels nestled between opulent homes. He could hear the coughing of a man in a narrow side-street, his voice scratchy against the cold.
Shichi paused, letting his eyes trail toward the source of the noise. There was a beggar seated against the wall, his layers of clothing tattered and gray. His coughing continued in a hoarse fit, each one shaking the man’s tired frame. Shichi recognized the sound—it was dry and raw, hinting at an inflammation in the lungs. Forgetting himself, he made his way down the alley to kneel at the human’s side.
“Are you all right?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“What do you want from me?” The deep lines on the man’s face crinkled as he spoke.
“I don’t want anything,” Shichi assured him. “I’d just like to help you.”
“A tengu? Help me? You must think I’m stupid.”
“No, not at all. I just—”
“What are you going to do? Posses me? Poison me?” The human sneered, pushing his stringy hair from his eyes. “My life is already bad enough without some yokai making it worse.”
“I—” Shichi fumbled for words amidst the barrage of accusations.
“Just let me be.”
“I’m not—”
“Go on!”
The monk was silent for a moment before complying, straightening himself as he left. His hand went to his forehead as he returned to the main street, longing to crawl beneath a building to rot with its foundation.
What had he expected? Back home, humans killed tengu on sight. He had been so blinded by the fact that yokai were allowed into the city that he’d completely ignored the consequences of that privilege. Despite repeated warnings and firsthand accounts, he had walked straight into human establishments and demanded the acknowledgement that others had been denied. He had even been rejected by the most destitute of the city’s residents. Not even the poor were desperate enough to trust him.
#
“You’re back early,” Chiyo said as the tengu returned to the inn. She was seated in the dining area; many other yokai had already settled down for dinner. The sun had just begun to set, casting a pink glow over the walls and windows. Shichi joined her at the table but didn’t speak. His eyes fell to his hands, staid and devoid of emotion.
“What happened? You didn’t go to another clinic, did you?” The kitsune tapped her fingers on the table. “I thought we talked about this.”
“Humans,” Shichi muttered bitterly, leaning onto his hand.
“What was that? Did I hear you say ‘humans’ in an angry voice? Because, if I remember correctly, you tend to get upset when I do that.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, still muttering. “I just . . . I . . .”
Shichi’s voice faded as he put his face into his hands. She was right. He would often try to stop her from making generalizations about humans, or speaking of any race with distaste—yet now he was doing the same. Hoping to distract himself, he focused on the activity around him, taking note of the lively conversations and clinks of cups.
From the kitchen, he could smell a variety of hot, simmering dishes. Some of the spices Fumie used were those he had never seen before, having come from visitors from other regions or nations. The combination of exotic seasonings left a rich aroma in the air, one of white pepper, chilies, and wild parsley. Some of the ingredients piqued his curiosity, especially the foreign herbs. Others, such as the “unique” meats that oni seemed to enjoy, he had no desire to investigate. Just as he began to wonder if Fumie had used the radishes he’d collected that morning, the front doors were thrown open with a thunderous crack.
Every head in the restaurant turned to face the sound. Three tengu hurried inside, their feathers torn and bodies covered with cuts and scrapes. One was supported by the other two, her arms draped over their shoulders. As they staggered in, Shichi’s body locked up, only able to take in a sharp breath through his nostrils. He had seen them before—all three of them.
They were the bandits from Awaji.
The plot; she thickens! Moral dilemmas! Long necked seductresses! Deliciously snarky kitsunes!
The extra attention to description really made this one start out stronger than a few of the others.
Fumie would be delighted to hear someone call her a ‘seductress.’ And probably giggle.
There were so many parts in this chapter that I absolutely loved. In particular, this:
“What happened? You didn’t go to another clinic, did you?” the kitsune said, tapping her fingers on the table. “I thought we talked about this.”
“Humans,” Shichi muttered bitterly, leaning onto his hand.
Not that I’m rooting for Shichi to become a discriminate jerk, but I feel like his eyes were opened just a little to the reality of the human world. It doesn’t make him a bad person to realize that even among the most peaceful of peoples, his kind of people, there are things that are just wrong. And I’m so glad he stood his ground and did what was right. <3
Aahh, thanks so much for your feedback! It’s kind of surprising that THAT was the last straw that finally made him bitter, yeah? Hahaha~
I just want to hug and pet Shichi and tell him everything is alright. Poor baby catches a break then has things blow up in the saddest ways possible :c
I do enjoy your longer chapters but this one is the perfect length!
Oh, this chapter was almost longer but I decided to cut it there at the last minute. Glad the length works for you, and thanks!
Oh my… Plottwist!!
Anyways, it was very brave of shichi to stand his ground.
Its a shame he just wont get the chance to test his temple as doctor with humans in the city.
You sure a hell of a tormenting deity jisuk >:)
Aww, poor Shichi! I felt bad for him, then I felt so happy for him, and then it came crashing down… But now he’ll get to take care of someone, and I’m sure he’ll feel better soon because of it.
By the way, I mentally cheered for Sagiri when you mentioned on your blog that she had become head monk. I was hoping to see her again, but I guess that’s not gonna happen now. Yet somehow, knowing her goal was achieved feels even sweeter.
Not going to happen? Why do you think so? She is definitely going to appear again, don’t worry!
Yay!! The way I had it in my head, Sagiri probably wouldn’t travel if she was Head Monk (And now the gears are turning in my head as to many possibilities why she actually would) and I figured Shichi wouldn’t risk going back in the “home” direction for fear of bumping into Kana again. I also realized I assumed Sagiri went to a temple that was close to their original one to begin with. I have this terrible habit of assuming things. I’m sorry! But yay Sagiri! :D
Oh, and I decided to listen to the voice clip you linked below for the character pronounciation and notes, and your voice sounds so sweet! I want to hug you. Knowing where Shichi’s name came from made me giggle.
Hello Mr. Cho. I am sorry if this is not a good place to post this but I will really like to know how you name your characters. Did you draw your inspirations from outside sources like the colloquials of everyday life or did you create the names out of pure creativity? Because some of the names you have kindly provided in Han characters does seem to be a little weird.
I do not understand the Japanese language but being a native speaker of Mandarin and a proficient user of the Chinese Han Characters, I can still interpret some Japanese Kanji. It’s true that the Japanese language have a very different system of grammar and syntax from Mandarin but most of the time, words or phrases written in Kanji will deliver a notion which is congruent to that written in Mandarin with the same characters.
Shichi’s name in Kanji/Han is 七 (qi), which means 7. I’m not sure about Japanese culture but in China, naming anyone after a single digit number will almost be sacrilege.
Kana’s name in Kanji/Han is 香菜 (xiang cai) which, in mandarin, is used to define botanical spices and heavily flavored vegetables, like Kimchi. I would imagine if Kana handed her passport to a Chinese customs officer at the airport; “你名字是不是印错了阿？”
Sagiri’s name, 早霧 (zao wu), means fog in the morning. Which, again, in Mandarin, Isn’t a very appropriate name to give to anyone.
Again, I do not understand the Japanese Language and I am very aware of the fact that the same words with the same definitions in both Japanese and Mandarin can hold very different emotional/associational/ethical values. The names you’ve given to your characters may be awkward in both English and Mandarin, but what about Japanese? Being a user of the Japanese language, do you find their names to be slightly awkward? Most Japanese names I’ve come across are more sophisticated, so to speak, and do not contain words used to describe stuff which is as mundane as kimchi. I do believe it is atypical for a Japanese person to have a single worded first name or one has the attributes described above.
However, the names of the characters does work superbly when transliterated in English; the names’ pronunciations pair up immaculately with the known personality of the characters. But in the end, when the Kanji names are directly translated into Mandarin or English, they do seem to become a little weird and prosaic. (I believe naming anyone Seven or Fog in English will be inappropriate too.)
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that your naming of the characters is flawed in any way. All of your work are de facto awesome and I pay total respect to you and your views. But how you named the characters in Kanji/Han really does make it feel weird for me.
Hey there! First of all, I’d like to say thanks for reading the story and for paying such careful attention to the characters and their names.
That said, I can assure you that special care (with a Japanese person to guide me) was given to their names. Though they may not work well in Mandarin, these characters are not Chinese and their names follow different rules. For example, Kana: http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kana_Hanazawa — this is an example of an actual Japanese person who uses these characters in her name. All of the kanji used is suitable for Japanese names. I would suggest doing a Google search of the characters to find more. I hope that clears it up for you and I appreciate you taking the time to ask me.
In addition, I made a voice post where I pronounce the names and explain a few if their origins. Maybe you will find this helpful: http://jisuk.tumblr.com/post/54436741605
Thank you. That post was extremely helpful. Good day, and keep being awesome!
For a brief moment I thought Sagiri was going to be the speaker. Silly me. But I am super happy that Shichi didn’t forget his Master and his loyalty to her and left the one place he’d been welcomed by humans.
Well, that certainly would have been interesting! But, alas, Sagiri isn’t reappearing quite yet. Thank you for commenting, though!
Man, I missed a couple chapters again! Don’t worry I’ll read the next one and post another review as well.
I LOVE THIS CHAPTER WITH ALL MY HEART! I loved the entire temple scene where Shichi should have felt at home but human bias crept in even there. The subtleties with the female monk was beautiful and how Shichi is finally starting to open his eyes to the wrong in the world.
Now, he really REALLY needs his chance to help someone and Voila! In barge in the three wounded thieves, with a rather flashy entrance I might add.
I can’t wait for the next chapter! I’m going to read it right now!!
Glad to see you back in the comments section! I’m so happy you liked this one, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even include the temple scene in the story but it seems to have worked out well. Thank you!
Readers may walk away from Part 26 with differing opinions. Some will applaud Shichi for staying loyal to tengu customs by refusing to sit at the front of the lecture hall when senior monks are situated at the back. He cannot abandon the revered traditions of Kurohane-dera. Understandably, the tengu does not wish to dishonor his master. However, other readers may be disappointed by Shichi’s decision. Part of developing cultural tolerance is understanding differences in taboos. Why is certain behavior considered sacrilegious by one group of people and not another? What are their mores? The human monks initiate a gesture to welcome Shichi. Is it possible to suspend personal beliefs for a moment to recognize those efforts rather than focusing on the glaring differences in customs?
These are hypothetical questions. Perhaps there are no right or wrong answers. Regardless, Shichi is to be commended for seeking more than a life tending vegetables. “No matter how insistently he had asked to prove himself, no one wanted to trust a tengu with their health. His heart had broken a little more with each passing day, leaving it in shambles inside his chest”; it is heartbreaking for the reader as well. Shichi has such good intentions. However, his suffering is more than just bad luck. Every obstacle is a test. How will he respond to the wounded bandits?
Hey Jisuk. I just want to say about this chapter. What really bothers me about it is the part where Shichi refuses to sit in front of the head monk, who is a woman. Sorry for the criticism, please forgive me. I just thought that this part of the chapter might need some work.
I’m sorry, what about it bothers you?
Oh, it’s that part where the main character was at the human temple and before some kind of meeting he refused to sit in front of the female monk, and he has to leave the temple for that reason which in my opinion is pretty silly. If that comment is really bothering you, then again I’m sorry. Just don’t hate me for that. :|
And also sorry for my typing. I’m not much of the English master.
I’m a bit disappointed that you find equality to be ‘silly.’ To Shichi, it’s important — not only was he raised with the belief that men and women are equal, but his master was a woman. He feels that accepting this discrimination would be disrespectful to her.
Ok. I get it. :)
Oh no! I don’t mean that! D:
I’m fine with gender equality. I didn’t mean to make you think like that!