Shiki: Volume 2

by Fuyumi Ono

  Seishin didn't object. I understand, was all he said shortly, his head bowed faintly at something.

  6

  As he lit the lamp, Seishin confirmed anew that he had come to the sanctuary because he was depressed.

  It was already past midnight into the hours labelled AM. Early in the morning the temple was asleep, so be it in the office or his own room, there was no need to think that someone would poke their heads in. If he simply wanted to be alone, he could have been by himself anywhere he liked at the temple. And yet taking the trouble to walk all the way out to here, he must have been looking for some comfort in this desolated church, he thought.

  He doubted he would come out here so incessantly if it were just an abandoned house. There was probably some meaning to this being a sacred place. At the same time if this were a genuine church, he was uncerain whether he'd have walked here or not after all. Seishin looked up at the altar and realized that if this were touted as an earnest object of worship, he wouldn't likely be so attached to this place. While it was clearly a sanctuary, there was no God enshrined at the altar. He might have realized as much.

  Yes---that much was probably more than certain. Right now, he had just become aware of that. The proof of that was that ever since he'd lit the lamp. Seishin had been unconsciously listening closely.

  At some point, insects voices petered out. All that filled the church was the sound of the wind. Within that the faint creek of a door hinge echoed.

  "Good evening," Seishin lightly waved to the little girl who came in through the lurching door. "It's gotten cool, hasn't it?"

  "Yes," Sunako nodded. "The scent of the night has completely changed. Fall is coming, isn't it?"

  "It seems like it has, doesn't it?"

  "Have you made some progress?"

  Seishin shook his head at Sunako who sat on a nearby bench.

  "I see... It sounds troublesome. Is that why Muroi-san is feeling down?"

  "I wonder about that."

  "You don't know?"

  Mm, Seishin nodded honestly. "If I don't do something somehow, is what it is, I think. But it's true that I'm frustrated with myself for not being able to do anything. While I'm doing this, many people are dying. Yet there isn't anything at all I can do."

  "It's futile?"

  "Mm, it is. --But, more than me, it's Toshio. Toshio is a doctor, he has carries a duty towards his patients. But he cannot save them. His patients keep dying. I know that he's impatient, that he feels helpless. He's upset that he can't do anything and is angry. He's losing his temper."

  "How piteous."

  "Mm, it is piteous."

  Seisuin sighed. --Yes, he had intended to fully understand Toshio's sentiments. He sympathized with the position Toshio was put into. Because he was his friend, he wanted to help him. And yet he couldn't do anything.

  "As for me, though, I think about how much I want to help Toshio. But the truth is I can't do anything. Toshio is irritated with me for that."

  "Because Muroi-san is not useful? Isn't that what they would call taking it out on you?"

  "Mm, that's right. It isn't that I'm not useful that's irritating him, he's upset with himself I think. And by nature, Toshio isn't someone who will forgive himself for acting like that. So seeing it, it's painful."

  Sunako tilted her head. Seishin said nothing more, only smiling.

  Seishin wanted to help Toshio. Because he understood Toshio's temperament, he believed he understood how frustrated he was with himself right now. So, Seishin intended to serve him with his utmost in his own way but it seemed Toshio didn't accept that. He'd wasted his time, he accused.

  Being condemned in itself wasn't really something that especially depressed him. What was sad was that Seishin couldn't get it through to Toshio that he understood Toshio's irritation. He understood Toshio's impatience, so he wanted to abate that any little bit that he could, he was acting to that end, and that Toshio did not know that was sad. --No, Toshio probably knew that. But he was upset with himself, and had to lash out at Seishin. He wasn't blaming Seishin, he was blaming himself. He knew even that much, so he couldn't be unjustly upset with him, so when he looked back on it afterwards, he would be plagued by even more self loathing, and he had pity for Toshio when that time came.

  "I cannot put it well into words, but I more or less understand Muroi-san's feelings."

  "Do you?"

  Sunako nodded. "Your feelings aren't being conveyed. No, the Junior Doctor of the Ozakis is impatient with the situation and closing off his feelings. So while Muroi-san tries to communicate, he cannot receive what is being conveyed. Muroi-san is lonely because of that, yes? More than for not being able to convey your own feelings, it's painful when the other will not open their heart to receive what you're trying to convey. Humans are isolated like that. You can't stand it---am I wrong?"

  Seishin forced a smile. "You're amazing."

  "Oh my, well, I am Muroi-san's fan," Sunako laughed. "It isn't as if I need to guess when it comes to Muroi-san's feelings. It's just that I had thought as much before when reading Muroi-san's books."

  "Heh?"

  "Humans are isolated, aren't they? They cannot understand each other meaningfully. Even if they think that they understand, even if they understand the and confirm matters speaking the same language, they don't know if they really understand each other. They make contact with others wanting to be understood and sympathized with but all of that is nothing but an illusion. And that is a very lonely thing. ...When reading Muroi-san's books, I have thought that."

  "Hmm?"

  "Surely the author is lonely too, it felt like. I just remembered that."

  Is that right, Seishin forced a smile.

  "Say, may I ask a question? The story Muroi-san is writing now, what kind of story is it?"

  "....The story of a man wandering a wasteland."

  Sunako tilted her head.

  "An older brother who killed his little brother is exiled from the town and wanders the wasteland. His dead little brother follows after him. ---A story like that."

  "His dead little brother became a ghost?"

  "It's a little different. A Shiki."

  "Shiki?"

  "A corpse demon. The risen. The dead body rises up, coming up from the grave. There's an oni like that in the village."

  "....Aa," Suanko said becoming a bit lost in thought. "It's different from a ghost, isn't it? If they've risen up, they have a proper body. But it's the body of a corpse. It isn't as if they've been revived."

  "Mm, right."

  "But it isn't a simple corpse like a zombie, is it? They have a proper consciousness, an existence equal to humans. But they aren't alive. They're a completely different existence." Saying that, Sunako tried feeling the word Shiki in her mouth. It seemed she had taking quite the liking to that word. She gave a satisfied laugh. "I think it is good! So very good! --The little brother became a Shiki and follows his brother, yes? That's from Genesis, isn't it? Cain and Abel."

  "Mm... Well, yes."

  Sunako nodded several times. "How interesting. Even though Muroi-san is a monk, many of your stories have a non-Buddhist religious atmosphere. This time it's the Bible? Before that it was Greek Mythology, and before that, a Native American one."

  "Aa, now that you mention it, it's true."

  "But, this time it is Cain again, isn't it?"

  Seishin blinked. "Again?"

  "Right. A story of heresy. Cain was a heretic, wasn't he? How shall I put it---one who is inexplicably distinct."

  "Cain is a very significant figure in the bible."

  "I know that. I'm not talking about the Bible, I'm talking about Muroi-san's literary style. Isn't that true of Cain? I don't think that Cain understood why he was rejected by God. He was denied as a heretic and felt alienated, I think. So he was jealous and killed Abel, right?"

  "That's the common reading, isn't it?"

  "It has to be that kind of story. The story of someone abandoned by God."

&
nbsp; "I guess it is."

  Sunako nodded. Folding both hands behind her back, she looked up at the half-destroyed altar. "....A man who grew horns. Suddenly, a horn grew on him, and he feared himself who had become different from the common man. Because he would be unreasonably discriminated against, he was desperate to hide it. But, the man ended up worshiped as a God, didn't he? And demanded to perform miracles. Even though he didn't have the power to perform miracle, he just had a horn."

  Watching Sunako walk about, Seishin gave a bewildered nod.

  "The man was relieved he wasn't discriminated against but he didn't have the power to perform miracles. He was afraid that of other people knew that, that it wasn't a sign of being a God, that it was nothing more than proof he was a heretic. But nobody could blame him for the fact that no miracle happened. ---The man was a heretic after all. He was called a god and excluded because he was consecrated. The horn was the mark of a heretic. Like the mark put on Cain. Because of it he was unreasonably denied and excluded from society. There was no objective reason to ostracize him. But he couldn't run away from that. It's the same as Cain, isn't it?"

  Seishin nodded. "It seems like it is."

  "You weren't aware of it, Muroi-san?"

  "Mm. I realized it just now. It's certainly so."

  It was the same pattern based on a heretic.

  "It's interesting isn't it. But I like that about Muroi-san's works. The pain of being abandoned by God, like? Minotaur himself knew that he was not a god, and was afraid he would be rejected, so he made a miracle happen himself, didn't he? By killing a sinner a curse was born. The villagers feared and honored him, building up a wall. In other words, to keep him at a distance, right? And for each who were killed another wall was built, until a grand labyrinth was built around him. He was hidden deep in the labyrinth. And to appease his anger, they presented sacrifices. What he wanted was to be allowed to enter into society as a god but society kept refusing him---" Sunako said, her feet stopping. She turned to look at Seishin. "But, how mysterious. Why is it?"

  "Why is it?"

  "All of Muroi-san's stories seem like that, do they not? But, Muroi-san doesn't look as if he's been abandoned by God. Aren't you a very important person in the village? It looks like the people of the village love the Junior Monk of the temple. Everyone praises you, Tatsumi was saying. Respected and adored, you are an important person of the village, perfectly involved."

  "It's true that I am involved."

  "Isn't it? And it looks as if Muroi-san loves the village too. It's thought of as very important to you. It was so in the essay, too. Even now you are whittling into your spare time by running about looking for a counter measure to the disease, aren't you?"

  "That's true. ... Yes, I do indeed love the village. I think it's important."

  "But, your works are like that," Sunako said with an impish laugh turning her back. "And, you have scars."

  Seishin realized he was subconsciously grasping his watch.

  ".....Why?" Sunako turned to look over her shoulder at Seishin who shook his head.

  "I don't know."

  Actually, Seishin loved the village. Seishin wasn't estranged. He was indeed involved as a center of faith, and as the villagers were not frugal in their love and respect towards him, Seishin thought that he wanted to repay that. And so he was making his efforts now.

  But, at the same time it was true that Seishin was trying to run away from something. He hadn't realized it himself until Sunako pointed it out but the pain of being "abandoned by God" threaded through Seishin's writings. It was possible that even that was based in some unidentified impulse.

  Maybe he felt somewhere in his heart that he was "abandoned by God" and because of that pain once tried to fatally injure himself. That was indeed heavily involved in the figure Cain. Was that why he had yet again subconsciously chosen Cain as his protagonist?

  The problem was that Seishin didn't have any awareness of being "abandoned by God." He couldn't understand why he would feel that way. No matter how he thought about it, he didn't think that he was, and didn't think there was a need to think that he was.

  "How funny. If Muroi-san is that influenced by it, wouldn't that mean it is something important to Muroi-san? And yet if you're not aware of it, you don't know why, do you?"

  "Mm. That's right."

  "Your subconscious is leaking out. Authors are mysterious indeed."

  "....You said it."

  After Seishin parted from Sunako, while walking the mountain path, he thought with each step.

  The Minotaur that Seishin wrote was a heretic. He became a heretic when he got the horn but it was possible that he was essentially a heretic from the beginning. The horn was only a manifestation of that. Cain had the sin of killing his little brother---and that reflected Seishin's sin of fatally wounding himself.

  (But still, why?)

  Seishin was indeed included in the village. As a pillar of faith to be he was an important part. The people around Seishin wished for him to be, and more importantly, Seishin himself wished as much. As Sunako had pointed out, the village was important to Seishin. He accepted that it had its own foolishness, its own imperfections but he came to of it as good even for those.

  And again, Seishin did not accept that he himself was a recipient of unreasonable prejudice like Cain. If nothing else, Seishin wasn't, he recognized. There were prejudices but he hadn't thought of them as unreasonable. As for their reverence, love and respect, those were merely earnest gratitude. The parish families and their great and ginger caution towards Seishin were things that Seishin had clearly brought on himself. He knew that there were those in the village who spoke malicious gossip about him but he didn't think of them as unreasonable. Indeed Seishin Indeed, Seishin knew from common sense about the village that fingers pointed at him saying "he's the one." It wasn't an unjust distinction. He had never felt unreasonably denied or estranged. If so then why did it have to be Cain again?

  Seishin returned to the office and spread out the Japanese writing paper.

  The green fields expanded without end, eventually the greenery being mixed at intervals with white stones and red clays. At the ends of the lands of gently undulating hills which green draped over like a moss were gigantic castle walls. The sturdy ramparts, as if to shroud from the eyes of those who dwelt outside of it, spread out, and then, at that eastern block, a small closed gate.

  Until he had been driven out from that gate into the wasteland, he had never seen the wasteland. He only vaguely understood on an intellectual level that the lifeless barren land spread out. He had never held interest in the outer world, and that it would become a scene he was in was something he had never imagined. The world for him was the same as the hlll, for it was the same as if there existed no place at all beyond it.

  In an enclosure of the fields was a meager dwelling, and from the field came a modest crop for food. That was when his little brother had still been there with a body that circulated warm blood. His little brother kept sheep in the green fields, and he planted grains and corns near their dwelling, just enough for the two of them to satisfy their daily needs. The neighbors were gentle and kind hearted, the hands they extended ever warm.

  Looking back on it, he thinks that he was fulfilled there. If he weren't, why would he yearn for the hill as he did, thinking of it with an almost mad love?

  Actually he had loved working. He liked plowing the soft soil around the house, looking at the fascinating and elegant black colors which held such nutrients, and he thought fondly of the smell of the earth. There he scattered the seeds, thinking pleasantly of the small dots of pea-green that would bug there, and being blessed to watch over them as they grew there.

  He leaned over as if to speak to the great earth, and when he incidentally rose up, the surroundings were green on one side. Beyond the gentle undulations was the ever green of the forest, and in that direction the towns buildings, only their points shining through. The conspicuously tall tower was awash
in splendorous light even in the daytime, confirming that something grand was watching over him each time he looked upon it.

  The green field was swarmed with wild growths of flowers, dotted with white down fluffed sheep peacefully feeding on the grass. His little brother at times chased after a sheep that wandered off from the flock scolding it, and at times stood amongst the sheep and, like his brother, gazed beyond the fields and the forests to the head point of the town. Realizing he was being seen resting, he would turn around with a smile and raise a hand.

  In the gentle twilight, with the austere evening bells, the safe and protected people gave thanks to the splendor for the day. For gentle firelights, for a contended evening meal, for ample sleep in their warm beds, the golden break of dawn, the songs of the birds, the feel of the breeze, the smell of the rain, the warmth of the sheepfold's stables.