by C. J. Anaya
I quirked an amused glance his way, but immediately brought my eyes back to Musubi’s. It was his move to make, now. Would we continue to play out this farce or not? He seemed to collect himself quickly and that impenetrable mask of his clamped down around him, effectively shutting off my access to his emotions in the process. I wasn’t sure how he managed it, but I couldn’t sense anything from him.
“Are you ready?”
He took a moment to answer. I wondered if I had pushed him too far too fast.
“Yes.”
I let out a small sigh of relief.
Musubi snaked an arm around my waist and a wolfish grin replaced his stoic demeanor. “Come, dear wife. We have a performance to give.”
I plastered a brave smile on my face and promised myself that one day it would be more than just a performance on Musubi’s part. One day, he would look at me with no anger, reservations, or fear.
One day he would look at me with love.
We left early for the palace the following morning. With such a large force at our disposal the plan was to keep to the forest for as long as possible and circle around the palace until we reached the south side of the grounds. It would take two days and nights for our entire army to assemble themselves in their strategic locations. Our party would enter through the back via the gardens while several other parties would create decoy attacks within the perimeter of the palace grounds. The goal was to draw the kami out of the palace and engage them in battle while Akane, Musubi, Yao, Chan, and myself made our way to the dungeons. Saigo and Kenji insisted on coming. My tutor knew more about the terrain and the settlers in Kagami than anyone else in the camp, and Saigo threatened to follow us if we left him behind, something I wasn’t too keen on doing anyway.
A few mutterings from Musubi about my brother’s inhuman appetite was the only opposition in the matter, and Akane heartily welcomed any advantage Kenji’s knowledge might bring to our travels.
The first day of traveling proved draining. Akane was a tireless, determined force of energy, encouraging us all to push a little harder and walk a little farther. Her intent was to arrive halfway through the forest on our first day of circumventing the main roads and villages frequented by imperial guards. Since the forest was quite vast, I wondered if it would be possible to accomplish such a feat.
Horses carried supplies and provisions, and a few men rode upon horseback in order to conserve their energy. Musubi frequently doubled back from the front of the long line to walk beside me. He claimed to worry about my ability to withstand our arduous pace for such a prolonged period of time, but my cheerful smiles and quick reassurances dispelled much of his worry on that front, though it brought up other worries revolving around my unnatural stamina and ability.
I ignored his tumultuous feelings on that score and continued forward, walking just as the others did. I didn’t feel comfortable on horseback while everyone around me suffered on foot.
Once the sun began to set, Akane instructed soldiers to set up camp, and soon the bustling sounds of their progress created a soothing balm to my somewhat frayed nerves. The thought of Katsu searching for me at this very moment weighed heavily upon my thoughts. The guilt I felt at my abandoning him refused to afford me any peace. I fought for a way to end my people’s suffering, but I feared many others such as Katsu would suffer in the process.
After grabbing a bowl of rice and roasted fish, I made my way to one of the many small campfires set up throughout the area and spotted my brother, Aiko, and Kenji seated upon an overturned log. Akane had engrossed them in an animated discussion from the looks of her excited face and quick arm movements. She was fairly flinging rice in her eagerness to impart her news. Kenji and Aiko let out soft chuckles, and Saigo’s eyes danced with merriment. I feared my little brother had developed a slight infatuation for the rebels’ commander.
“And just what is it that is so amusing?” I asked once I seated myself upon a log next to them. I carefully set my food down and brought my hands up to catch the heat of the crackling flames.
“This morning we devised a wager to see how many times during the day Musubi would ‘check the ranks of the men’ while simultaneously inquiring after your welfare.” Saigo wiggled his eyebrows at me and let out a hearty laugh.
“I can’t believe this is what you did to occupy your thoughts during the day.”
“It was enormously entertaining,” Yao stated as he seated himself across from us.
My eyes widened at the hint of mirth on his lips, and then Chan sat beside him with an equally hilarious expression.
“You two were in on this wager as well?”
Yao and Chan let out gruff noises that I took for laughter.
“What was your count then, Yao?” Akane inquired. She used her fingers to grab the delicate grains of rice within her makeshift bowl.
“I believe Musubi checked on his wife no less than twenty-five times during the course of our journey today.”
“Are you quite certain? According to my count, I believe he inquired about her health and the state of her shoes at least thirty times,” Aiko corrected. My maid gave me a teasing smile. It was good to see her so happy and relaxed after everything she had suffered at the hands of my father.
“Well, if we’re going to get into the details, I believe he reached for her hand at least thirty-five times and then mooned over her with his eyes no less than five hundred and thirty-seven times,” Saigo exaggerated.
I failed to contain my laughter at this point.
“Not a single one of you counted correctly. There is simply no basis of truth in your claim of twenty-five or thirty-five visits.” I said it as if the entire concept was ridiculous to begin with. “It was thirty-seven visits to be precise, just in case any of you are interested in accuracy.”
Saigo, Yao, Aiko, and Chan doubled over with laughter, while Kenji handed over some coin to Akane and asked, “How on earth did you know she would be keeping track herself?”
I heard some rustling behind me and then Musubi’s comforting form was seated by my side.
“What in the world are all of you going on about?”
There was a moment of silence as everyone took in Musubi’s arrival, and then Saigo said, “We were merely discussing the mating practices of certain mammals within the forests of Kagami.”
At this, everyone exploded into fits of laughter, and I had to suppress a few giggles myself as heat infused my cheeks and then rushed to warm the rest of my body.
“Strange topic of discussion,” Musubi muttered.
I let out a rather indelicate snort and another round of laughter erupted from the other members seated around the camp fire. Musubi gave us all a puzzled glare, shrugged his shoulders, and dived into his rice and fish as if he hadn’t fed in a few centuries.
The slight breeze within the forest lifted my tresses and cooled the blush from my cheeks. I heard Musubi catch his breath and turned to see what had arrested his attention. The intensity of his gaze washed over me. For a moment he remained immobile and then he reached forward to cup my chin with his hand as if he couldn’t help himself, as if our latest conversation had never transpired.
In moments like these I burned with confusion over his hot and cold behavior. I wanted consistency one way or the other, but to ride this turbulent wave of emotion left me as vulnerable and unsteady as flittering leaves upon a thin branch.
A throat cleared within the circle and Musubi blinked once, twice and then came to himself. He slightly shifted his body away from mine and searched for his anger, grabbing hold of it and using it to replace the earlier tenderness.
An unhappy sigh escaped my lips as I let the moment pass. I couldn’t call him out on it with an audience surrounding us. It was simply better to let him be.
“Kenji, I do wish you would tell us some of your ancient stories about the gods,” Saigo said in a wistful tone. “The one about Umisachihiko and his marriage to the sea god’s daughter is my favorite.”
“Truly
, Saigo? I would have thought you’d prefer stories of battle and conquest,” I said.
“The daughter turns into a shark dragon. Infinitely more entertaining.”
Kenji gazed into the fire, contemplating Saigo’s request.
“While I would love to pontificate upon the various stories—some accurate, others mostly false—of our ancient deities and their numerous atrocities, there is one story that I believe bears discussion, considering the battle we are walking into.”
The air grew a bit heavy as serious looks replaced the earlier lighthearted atmosphere.
“During my intensive studies throughout the years, I came across an ancient scroll discussing life, death, and how all living beings are foreordained to follow specific paths.”
My attention piqued at this interesting topic of discussion. I think I was waiting for Kenji to claim that foreordained events were never quite as immovable as our culture dictated. Wishful thinking on my part.
“You see, due to our own choices and decisions, there are certain souls in this life who are never given the opportunity to fulfill the measure of their creation. Their purpose is not yet realized at the time of their death, but specific events must occur in order to maintain a certain type of balance.”
“How is this circumstance rectified?” Akane asked.
“The solution to this problem can be found in the form of The Grass Cutter Sword.”
Musubi shifted at the mention of Katsu’s sword. His hatred manifested itself within his eyes and drew darkness to his form. I surreptitiously placed a hand on his knee to bring him from his dark thoughts. He looked at me in surprise and managed a small nod, but nothing more. Puzzled, I gazed upon him a moment longer, hoping for some reason behind his venomous reaction, but received no other impressions after that. I turned my attention back to Kenji and the information he wished to share.
“Our First Parents came to the conclusion that a soul with unfinished business must be reborn into the world in order to accomplish its mission and restore balance. The Grass Cutter Sword is known mainly for its ability to focus the energy of millions of ki in order to keep the veil healthy and impenetrable, but what many are unaware of is the sword’s ability to recognize a soul passing through the veil with unfinished business.”
Kenji launched into great detail about the sifting of souls and the moment when those souls might be reborn. Though I had learned it all before, I still paid close attention to the story, especially as I considered the previous life I had stumbled across when exploring Akane’s memories. I wondered if she had been one of those souls with her purpose not yet fulfilled, and how that purpose might tie in with Katsu. I also wondered if telling her might somehow destroy the pattern of events that necessitated such an achievement. My thoughts focused sharply as Kenji outlined other elements Katsu had never shared with me.
“There are certain souls so monumentally essential to the balance and order of the universe that when they die without fulfilling their mission upon this Earth, their souls must be bound and held in reserve in an entirely different manner.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Kenji,” I said. “Are these particular souls not reserved in the same area as the others?”
He shook his head. “The order in which a soul is reborn depends upon the timing of their death. The Grass Cutter Sword has no control over when those souls will be reborn, it merely recognizes that that particular soul falls under that category and sifts it into a special location where rebirth is dictated according to the order of your death. Those souls who passed away centuries before will be reborn before souls who have just recently passed through the veil. It’s Heaven’s version of waiting your turn, and first-come-first-serve. But the few souls who have the capacity to change the entire fate of the world must be reborn at a specific time and place, and under certain circumstances. There are even some souls who are not released without the use of a blood sacrifice.”
I cringed at this. “The gods require the death of someone in order for these souls to be reborn?”
“Not something as final as death in most instances, but blood is part of the ritual.”
“Now it’s a ritual?” Saigo squeaked.
“Do not worry, young Saigo. Every soul such as these will have their own procedure prescribed by The Grass Cutter Sword. This ensures that these particular souls are not born too early, to the wrong families, or born too late with no hope of making things right.”
Make it right.
That statement seemed to reverberate through my being. More than one person had said this, including myself. But why? What was I supposed to make right?
“And what of those immortal souls who are never quite satisfied with their lot in life—who give up on fulfilling the measure of their creation?” Musubi asked.
“I assume you’re referring to Amatsu,” Kenji said.
I didn’t believe for one second that Musubi’s reference involved the demon god. His own actions seemed to suggest that he had abandoned his purpose long ago and replaced it with a vengeful one.
“Amatsu can never have the opportunity to make things right, for he is now a part of a greater balance. The balance between good and evil. Though many fall victim to his enticements, there are other souls who rise above such challenges and grow stronger as a result. I’m not advocating evil behavior, but in a way, Amatsu is serving a purpose by sifting the bad at heart from the good. No one on this Earth is born evil, cruel or mean-spirited. Our circumstances and choices mold the character within our hearts.”
“And what if a kami’s heart is filled with evil?” Musubi challenged.
Kenji studied him intently for a moment. “Then I sincerely hope that kami discovers the key to melting away the darkness. A darkened heart is a weighty burden to bear.”
The silence remained for a few moments longer and then Akane suggested we retire to our tents for the night. We had a long march ahead of us the following morning.
Musubi took my hand and brought me to my feet. We said our good nights, and I tried to ignore the suggestive looks from Saigo and Akane as I followed Musubi to our tent. The previous night we had slept with our backs to each other while Musubi did his best to block me out of his heart and his head. It had been a cold, sleepless night for myself, but I hadn’t dared speak with him again after pushing him away with our previous conversation. I feared tonight would be no different.
As I took my side of the cot and brought the blanket to rest just under my chin, I thought back to the questions he posed to Kenji and couldn’t help but pose questions of my own.
“Do you fear your heart is too blackened to be of any use? Do you no longer serve your purpose as a kami?” I turned over on my side to face him as he took his boots off and eased onto the cot. I continued after he remained silent, “You’ve never once informed me what exactly you are a god of.”
He grimaced and pulled the rough blanket over himself, turning his back on me and settling in for the night. Now I was receiving the silent treatment. His behavior was so childish. I ripped the blanket off and used my hands as leverage to lean my frame over his body.
“You are not allowed to ignore my questions or my attempts at conversation simply because you tend to be rather unsocial and taciturn. You either answer me or you will be spending the rest of the evening fending off my unwelcome kisses.”
His eyes widened, and amusement lifted his lips.
“Is that supposed to scare me, little healer?”
“Based on your previous reactions to any physical intimacy between us, I should think it a valid threat.”
He quickly rolled over and pushed my back against the cot, holding my arms above my head while he pinned me under the weight of his body.
“Funny. I’m not exactly feeling threatened.”
I gritted my teeth, but maintained eye contact. “Are you going to answer my questions or not?”
For a moment his playfulness dimmed, and I almost wished I hadn’t insisted on an answer.
&nb
sp; “My purpose in this life is to bring souls together. To tie and bind hearts to one another as securely as the stars are bound to the heavens.”
I nearly choked at this revelation, and immediately felt foolish for not coming to the conclusion on my own. “You are the god of love and marriage?”
“Indeed.”
I considered how ironic it was to be in love with the kami meant to perform my union with Katsu. The god of love and marriage was my soul mate. How awful it might have been to actually go through with the union only to discover Musubi’s identity in the process and experience the pain of losing him as he gave me to another. The thought became so horrific that my chest seized and I nearly lost control of my breathing.
“Mikomi, am I hurting you?” He made to move from me, but I vehemently shook my head.
“No. You’re not hurting me. I was merely surprised by this. You spend so much time with the rebels, I assume you gave up your purpose long ago?”
His guilt gnawed at him.
“I didn’t give it up. I just find little joy in the same monotonous task. I see very little point in joining others together when humans are more than capable of accomplishing that themselves. They’re even more adept at destroying love altogether. I tired of it long ago.”
“Because of Edana?”
He pushed away from me and straightened himself to a sitting position. “Because I no longer saw a point to it.”
“Yet you still fulfill your purpose?”
“When time permits, yes.”
I waited, hoping he might share more of himself with me, but the silence stretched on, and I became discouraged. Perhaps he needed a little more encouragement.
“I suppose it would be difficult to witness so many happy unions, but never experience that for yourself.”
His sharp eyes snapped to mine. “Are you attempting to analyze my emotions and draw me out with your probing questions?”
I sat up and leaned in closer so my lips were mere inches from his.
“I’m trying to understand my fake husband.”