Two years after the Mongol Invasion
The sky had poured down all day, soaking the gravel grounds of Castle Shimura until the peasants were almost ankle-deep in puddles. Most had given up selling in the marketplace and were going home long before the sun had set, but two merchants stuck it out, selling their warm sake to anyone who passed by. Two samurai came to their shaded stall.
“So where is your brewery located?” one of them asked. “We haven’t seen you around these parts.”
“We just started up our business here recently, after the Mongol Invasion,” one wearing a green jacket spoke up. “We originally were from the mainland. Our recipe is ancient and has been drunk by some of the finest nobles of Fukuoka!”
“Is that so? Let us have some,” the samurai took a glass of the heated drink and tried it for himself. “Hm! This is very high quality. I wonder if the jito himself would appreciate such a thing on a cold, damp evening as this.”
“Oh! We would be honored, my lords!” the merchant wearing an orange kimono and black pants bowed over and over until the green merchant made him stand up straight.
“Pardon my friend’s manners, we would certainly like to show him what we have.”
“How much sake do you have left?” the second samurai asked. He too had a sip of the drink and highly approved of it.
“We have a full jar still, untouched. We were planning to bring it home, but… seeing as you are here, perhaps it was meant to sell after all!”
“Let us speak to the jito, and we can arrange the payment.”
The two merchants with their jar were taken into the keep. Lord Shimura was at his table reading and writing notes and receipts, a good use of the day when outdoor activity would have been a waste.
“My lord, we have two merchants from Fukuoka who have come with an outstanding batch of sake. We would like your approval if we are to purchase it for storage.”
Kotaro, the steward of the castle, was also in the room when the two merchants arrived. He came forward and tested a bit from a sample gourd before giving it to the jito, as was now standard procedure. The two merchants quaked in the presence of such illustrious men.
“Here, try this my lord! It is very good!” he provided him a small cup. Lord Shimura drank it slowly and tilted his head to the side.
“There is something reminiscent of an old brew I once tried in Kyoto. What do you have available?”
“One jar, completely untouched! How I wish we had more!” the orange merchant exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. The green merchant shook his head in embarrassment, and Lord Shimura smiled slightly.
“How convenient. It is better that it wasn’t tainted by anything on your trip from… where did you come from exactly?”
“We came to Tsushima just 2 days ago, my lord, through Port Izumi. We have passports.”
“Show me,” he bid Kotaro check their writs of passage to make sure they were indeed from where they said. Sure enough, everything was in good order.
“Very well. Your drink pleases me. For this jar of sake, I will pay you 70 mon. I hope you remain safe on your journey home. This rain storm may last for some days more.”
“Oh, we won’t be leaving any time soon until it’s safe, my lord, you can be sure about that!” the orange merchant bowed deeply. The green merchant gave him a normal bow, and the two were escorted away.
“Kyoto… I am due to return there soon,” Lord Shimura frowned to himself, and looked at the gourd, which was now empty. “Perhaps I shall try that brew tonight…”
Lady Shinako had just had their first child, who was only a month old. She was currently taking a nap in the upper quarters with the child when Lord Shimura woke her up.
“I hope you are feeling alright,” he said softly.
“I had a good rest, yes,” Shinako got up and stretched her arms and neck. “I need every moment I can get.”
“I know, so I only hope that tonight we could have some proper entertainment, if you’re up for it. Just the two of us.”
“I would be honored. I will leave Mei with the caretaker.”
It was quite dark outside when a proper evening meal was prepared for them: soup, rice, fish, vegetables, all from Tsutsu and Azamo. They also had a bit of tea from Akashima to energize them after such a dreary day, and Shinako cheered up quite a bit then.
“I want to hear you play again,” she smiled mischievously.
“You certainly shall. That’s what I meant by entertainment,” Lord Shimura smirked. “I have begun practicing a ballade that I learned many years ago.”
“Will you sing it?”
“Oh no no no!” he laughed. “I’m not one for that. But what about you? The ballade is of Dan-no-ura.”
“I never learned that one, actually. You play it for me tonight, and show me the manuscript for it. Perhaps I can learn the words…”
“Good. But let me first get my steward to provide me something…”
Soon they went up to the top level of the keep, the private quarters of the jito. Lord Shimura kept a biwa on one of his shelves and picked it up. It was a very expensive instrument, the same one from his youth, and needed the utmost care in tuning before each performance.
“So you are fine hearing me with my many flaws?” he sat down at the back of the room. Shinako knelt across from him patiently.
“Whenever have I not? I am glad that you aren’t just skilled in the subtleties of language.”
“Music is a language, is it not? Perhaps not quite as expansive as the tongue, but expressive nonetheless… some nights I like to improvise… and that’s something that there is no equal to elsewhere…”
Lord Shimura slowly went through the old ballade while Shinako listened. She went back and forth between watching his hands, his face, and closing her eyes. There was melancholy in this piece, but it was also strong, formidible. Its temperament fit her husband quite well.
About 15 minutes later, a servant came in with a bottle of warmed sake and two cups. Servings were made to each of them, but the servant was dismissed quickly so they could be alone again.
“When was the last time you went to Kyoto?” Lord Shimura asked Shinako.
“Years ago now. Father went there more recently than I had. It is a beautiful city.”
“I know… I went there several times with my family, even when I was quite young. The buildings impressed me the most, nothing like what you see here on Tsushima. And my little sister loved Kyoto so much, she even brought toys that she had hand-made just to give out to the stray cats she would find in the streets.”
“Really! She must have been really sweet. I wish I could have known her.”
“Yes… I was spoiled to have someone like her in my life,” Lord Shimura sighed. “Well, shall we have a drink? I bought this one today from some merchants, and it reminded me of Kyoto in a peculiar way. I guess I’ve just been feeling nostalgic of late, for the better times.”
“There were good things amidst the sorrow, wasn’t there?”
“Yes… plenty of it, even,” each took their cup and sipped together.
“How strange,” Lord Shimura furrowed his brow. “I am detecting something else now. It is definitely the same sake, but there’s another hint I didn’t feel before. But perhaps I like it still…”
“Kyoto not being all that you remember it as?” Shinako laughed. “I enjoyed it, but one drink is enough for me.”
Lord Shimura narrowed his eyes and decided to try another cup. “Maybe because it is warmed, I detect another flavor. Bitter, like smoke, but also sweet like citrus…”
“I don’t remember you being this curious about a sake before!”
“Maybe it is refreshing my memory more than most things. Kii sake has familiarity, but it’s not… like this…”
Lord Shimura stopped at three small cups, about the usual for him, but was still fascinated by what he sensed. He eyed the bottle with interest as he continued on with his biwa playing for many more minutes. The melodies made him even more nostalgic than ever and he smiled sleepily.
“I want to remember things from Kyoto, from Fukuoka, from Kamakura. I owe the shogun a visit soon. Now that things are different, perhaps I will be able to recapture some of those memories. We will eventually be able to take Mei to Kamakura, when she is older.”
“And then it will be like old times!”
“Yes, if you haven’t been to Kamakura, I must certainly show you. It’s a long trip by boat, but the palaces and temples are a sight to behold.”
“You know about architecture better than I ever could!”
“Our family made Omi Monastery in honor of Kamakura, did you know that?”
“What?! Father never told me this!”
“Yes! The great statue, great-grandfather was the one to founded it and dedicate it to the shogun. It took nearly 20 years to complete it!”
“Wow! How is it that I never knew that before?”
“Maybe you hadn’t read our library as diligently as I!” Lord Shimura smirked. “Either way, I must take you to the great cities of our nation. It is only fitting that a Shimura would be acquainted with such things.”
“Yes, let’s bring my son along too!”
“What?” Lord Shimura’s heart skipped a beat. He was looking at the floor and blinked several times, unsure of what he just heard.
“Tokiasa?”
He looked up to see Chiyoko kneeling in front of him. Her face was deathly white, her demeanor detached and cold. Suddenly a grin came over her face.
“Oh that’s right! He’s not here because he’s dead! You didn’t think I didn’t know about that, did you? You killed him, Tokiasa! Because of you, Clan Sakai is dead!”
“Sister… what are you doing here?” Lord Shimura went pale.
“And my husband? You killed him! You sent him to his death and you knew it was going to happen! Only to leave my son an orphan! Weren’t you happy to hear the news? Weren’t you?!”
“H… How did you know that? Who told you?” he stared at her in horror.
“And what about father, and our brothers? You killed them too! Didn’t you want power so badly that you let them fall into that trap in Old Yarikawa? Now that you have your position, aren’t you happy? Aren’t you happy, brother?!”
“I… No! I didn’t know it was a trap! I never…! How did you…?” Lord Shimura stood up in confusion, looking at his sister who continued to grin. The room was hazy, and the dark corners where the lamps couldn’t reach seemed to go on into an endless void. He turned around to look at the wall behind him. The painted flowers seemed to writhe and grow black thorns and thistles around them. They seeped onto the floor and started twisting around his feet.
“Agh! Get away!” he stumbled back into the center of the room. Whispers flooded his ears from all directions.
“Tokiasa? Are you well? Are you truly well after what you’ve done?” Chiyoko stood up and faced him. Her black hair was messy now and her whole face was sick and emaciated. The way it was the last time he had seen her.
“This can’t be real… who are you? What’s happening?” he got on his knees and rubbed his head. Chiyoko put an icy cold hand on his shoulder.
“Repent!”
There was a flash of white light, and suddenly, there he was, at Omi Lake. Young Jin, only 15 years old, was playing his mother’s flute on the docks by the red-leafed tree. It was time to meet him.
“Uncle! You’re here! I’m so excited to train with you again!”
Jin’s voice was so sweet and youthful, untouched by sorrow. Lord Shimura had truly never heard Jin be so happy in his whole life. But it was what he always wanted Jin to sound like. After everything the boy went through.
“Not here, follow me,” came out of his lips automatically, without even thinking. They walked together through the village, so many happy people around, bowing to the two samurai.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Uncle! Every time you come by, I know it’s going to be a great day! And when you’re not here, I only beg and pray to see you again! You’re the greatest!”
The flattery went on for minutes, all sickening, and yet it’s what Lord Shimura always wanted to hear. This was the perfect child. The sky was an eerie shade of black and purple, and the white dogwood petals fell about them like ash. The farther they walked, it seemed like graves were everywhere. New graves, covered in rocks and clan banners. All the samurai massacred in the Mongol Invasion, because of him. Soon not a single living being was in sight except the two of them. All the dread of that day returned to him, but he couldn’t turn away from his path. It was set in stone.
Finally at the Sakai cemetery, young Jin ran ahead and spat on the grave. “Damn you, Father! If only you were like Uncle! Then you wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have been left alone! But now I have him forever, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”
“See how he loves you,” Chiyoko’s venomous voice echoed in Lord Shimura’s head. “But you know deep down… you will never be a father.”
“I know,” Lord Shimura said to himself, lips trembling. He felt like he was about to faint.
“Jin… I’m sorry…”
“Sorry for what, Uncle?” young Jin turned around. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, you know that! You’ve never done anything wrong! And that’s why I love you!”
“Stop! Whoever is showing me this, stop!” Lord Shimura stumbled back and grasped his head. “I can’t take it! Stop!”
“Do it, Tokiasa! Do what needs to be done!” Chiyoko shouted at him.
As if he was possessed, Lord Shimura stood up straight and unsheathed his blade.
“What have I done?! I don’t want to hurt you!” the boy looked up in fright. Lord Shimura stabbed his word straight into Jin’s neck. His whole spirit revolted at this gesture and fought against it the whole time, but there was nothing to change what happened. The beautiful, perfect boy stared at him in shock and dismay.
“How could you?” Jin collapsed to the ground. Bloody rain began to pour from the dark sky, and soon Lord Shimura felt like he was soaked in blood.
“No… no no NO!” he threw the sword to the ground, where it shattered like brittle rock, and he fell to his knees. “Make it stop! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen! I’m so sorry! I beg you! Please!”
“Now you are alone! Alone! So alone!” Chiyoko’s exclaimed with glee.
“Have mercy, I beg you,” he sobbed and reached out to the corpse before him. Suddenly Jin lifted his head from the ground and looked up at him, and Lord Shimura gasped in terror. Jin’s eyes were black like a demon’s. As if rising from the earth itself, or perhaps every droplet of blood had been given a voice, a multitude spoke through Jin’s mouth:
“No. This is your PUNISHMENT!”
Lord Shimura cried out in agony and covered his eyes, to no avail. There was no way to wake up from this nightmare. The rain flooded the cemetery until it was a pool of blood, burning him as he sunk deeper and deeper into it. Shouting echoed in his ears, pouring down on him like the rain itself. He was suffocating under its weight.
“This is your punishment! You are a failure! This is your punishment!”
Lord Shimura reached out into the cacophony of voices, anything to pull him out of the mire of hell.
“Tokiasa! What’s happened to you?” a different woman was sobbing.
Lord Shimura grasped onto this voice and forced himself to swim out of the swirling chaos. He stumbled to the edge of the cemetery and leaped off the cliff to hit the ground below. The impact caused a flash of light and he felt physical pain against his forehead and nose. He was face-down on the ground of the room. The sound of sobbing over him.
“Tokiasa!” Shinako was sobbing heavily, holding onto him. “Please wake up! Please!”
“Shinako,” Lord Shimura whispered, and rolled onto his side. His vision was still blurry, but Shinako was clearly there and not his sister. “What happened?”
“I don’t know!” she sobbed. “One moment you were talking normally, the next it was like you had seen a ghost! And the awful things you said!”
Lord Shimura was too dizzy and only could let Shinako hug him tightly. A servant came in, having heard shouting from below. A healer was quickly called for, and Lord Shimura was given fresh water and herbs to drink, but they calmed him down minimally. He was still emotionally paralyzed and could barely catch his breath. The voices were no longer there, but its impression and the visions were still in his memory. He stared up at the ceiling in silence.
Kotaro the steward was called on and he asked for an explanation.
“He drank something, but I don’t know what,” the healer surmised. “This was a poison, but not one that will kill him. It has put him into this awful state, seeing visions and hearing voices.”
“It was the sake! I know it was!” Shinako knelt next to her husband. “I had it too, but nothing happened to me! The larger dose must have done it! It’s terrible! We must throw it out!”
“Not yet!” Kotaru grimaced darkly. “Those merchants were responsible for this! This had to have been planned! We will seek them out and have them explain themselves for what they did! And they will be properly hanged afterwards!”
Shinako held Lord Shimura’s cold hand. He blinked several times, but still seemed caught up with what he saw.
“Tokiasa… listen to me… whatever you saw, or heard… it wasn’t real,” she said slowly in soothing tones. “I’m right here… and I love you… no matter what…”
She was at his side the rest of the night.
Sometime late the next morning, Lord Shimura was breathing properly again. He hardly spoke, but he seemed clearer in his mind. He laid on his side and seemed more grieved than in shock. Perhaps he had fully comprehended what happened to him.
“I never knew I had those thoughts,” he told Shinako. “It all just welled up suddenly, and I couldn’t stop it. I never wanted to think such things.”
“But perhaps it wasn’t you! What if it was just the poison?”
“I don’t know… sometimes I still think the unthinkable, and just bury it down before I admit it to myself… but that’s not how I want to think. That’s not me. That’s not who I want to be.”
“Then it isn’t you! You must let the past rest where it belongs, in the past. And those voices, it wasn’t the truth.”
“Thank you, Shinako,” he held her hand and sat up. “I would never have wished that upon my worst enemy… but by the gods, some of it was true!” he fell into sobs anyway, and Shinako embraced him again.
“Then there is a truth that speaks even stronger. I do not condemn you. Be at peace.”
It took a full day for Lord Shimura to recover so that he no longer felt dizzy or delirious. The two merchants were never found, but it was revealed from documents at Port Izumi and Hakata Bay that they were imposters. It was suspected that two raiders had killed the original merchants and disguised themselves to get on land, and that the sake wasn’t theirs to sell to begin with. As for the poison, no one could say for sure what it was, but some suspected it came from Iki Island. Since it was such a small dosage, it would not cause permanent harm. A bounty was put on the two raiders’ heads, and it was hoped that justice would be served, if it must be another day…
Four days later
“I’m glad you’re here with me, Shinako,” Lord Shimura was sitting in his quarters again, the biwa in his hands. He had just finished performing the ballade of Dan-no-ura.
“You have improved your skill so quickly! It must have all come back to you, the way you used to play.”
“Yes, I do recall the things I want to remember fairly quickly… if only they were as quickly as the things I don’t want…”
Shinako frowned. “I guess they never really go away, do they? … the memories…”
Lord Shimura put the biwa back on its shelf and sighed. “Yes. They are the true scars, the wounds in my spirit. Time can only lessen their pain… they will not be healed.”
“Only in the next life.”
“Yes… the next life…”
Shinako was very tired and went to bed, but Lord Shimura stayed up a bit later. He climbed the tower to the top of the keep, and breathed in the cool night air. The moon was up, and he could hear the distant sound of the falls even from up here. He spent an hour meditating and taking it all in. It was peaceful.
In the corner of his eye, he saw it. Below him, a figure all in white walked slowly across the courtyard. There was no one about at this time of night. Lord Shimura froze in place.
“Sister…”
The figure stopped, having heard his thoughts. It looked up at him with its pale face. There was a long silence.
“Trouble me no more…”
The figure gave a long glance at him, its expression indiscernable. Finally it resumed its journey, and walked out of the courtyard and out the north gate. Lord Shimura finally breathed easy as he saw the spirit, or hallucination, or whatever it was, finally go free into the wilderness.
It would not return again.
Abandoning hope
A voice calls in the darkness
Revealing the truth
