by Yuya Sato
With more free time than they knew how to fill, the women tried to find work within Dendera, but aside from whittling spears in their huts, or cutting firewood outside, there was nothing that needed to be done. Some even began speaking enviously of the women on guard duty, a task normally regarded as a chore. Amid frequent yawns, Kayu Saitoh wandered aimlessly outside. She looked to the white-covered Mountain and thought of Itsuru Obuchi. Her mind turned to the irrational hope that the woman had escaped the bear’s savage attacks and was still alive somewhere on the Mountain. The hope took an unexpectedly tenacious hold in her thoughts. Kayu Saitoh looked away from the Mountain and down at the ground. She cursed the snow for preventing the women from planting crops, when a single word came to her.
Spring.
Now was the coldest time of the year, but spring would eventually come. Kayu Saitoh hadn’t experienced spring in Dendera, but she thought it must be a little easier. Realizing that fantasizing of spring in this season was a form of escapism, she instead made herself think about the far more real matter of the migration as she continued walking.
She heard several voices. Four Hawks—Ate Amami, Kotei Hoshii, Hotori Oze, and Ume Itano—were dismantling, as if gutting a giant fish, the walls of a hut abandoned after the bear had destroyed it.
Kayu Saitoh approached the women and asked what they were doing.
Kicking at some ice to break it free from the wall, Ate Amami replied, “We’re building a watchtower. It’ll be a lot better than just lolling about on guard.”
“I’m no fool about to be killed by the bear,” Hotori Oze said, nodding. “Although starving to death is even more foolish.”
“A watchtower is a great idea. Is it on Masari Shiina’s orders?”
“Don’t be daft. It’s our idea,” Hotori Oze said. With irritation in her voice, she added, “The Doves won’t listen to anyone else’s ideas.”
The current directive, this bigger fortress, was not an active approach. By being ordered to simply wait for the bear’s assault, the women had been given free time, which they seemed to be using to revive their personal ideologies. Kayu Saitoh realized that people needed to be given work or they would do as they pleased.
“What do you think?” Ate Amami said. “How about helping us?”
With nothing else to do and no reason to decline, Kayu Saitoh helped the women with their tower. It was a simple task—upending several logs and building a platform large enough for people to stand upon—but Dendera lacked in both materials and tools, and building a proper tower was out of the question. The women removed what lumber was still usable from the empty house, and with all the holes they left in it, the abandoned building looked like it could have been home to a particularly industrious mouse. Unlike the storehouses or the trap, the house was of simple construction and was easily dismantled. As she worked, her hands freezing, Kayu Saitoh understood how the bear had been able to tear through the structure in a single strike.
The women gathered the necessary materials quickly, but driving the logs into the earth was difficult work—or, to be more precise, digging the holes in the earth to drive the logs into was difficult work. With the dirt frozen solid, and the tools at their disposal limited, the old women spent a long time digging. Then, working together, they lifted the logs and placed them in the holes. Kotei Hoshii threw her body at the standing logs, and the wood gave only a tremble. Satisfied at the structure’s sturdiness, the women arranged pieces of wood into a simple platform to go on top of the logs. The tower may not have stood perfectly vertical, but it was complete.
“All right, let’s climb up top,” Ate Amami said, her voice spirited. “We’ve earned the right to be the first to climb the tower.”
The women began their careful ascent. Kayu Saitoh too was cautious and gripped the logs tightly with both arms. It was tough work for her fatigued body, but she managed to climb to the top. Standing beside the other women on the creaking, rickety floor, she took in the view. The sun was setting, the Mountain beautiful in twilight, the persimmon-colored sky seeming to glow of its own accord. Kayu Saitoh gazed in such rapt attention that she didn’t even let slip a sound of her wonder. The tower stood only as tall as two women, and yet the change in perspective transformed the familiar view into something fresh.
Transfixed by the sight of the Mountain, Ate Amami said, as if in a dream, “On the other side is the Village.”
Hotori Oze, her voice and demeanor unchanged, said, “And here we live in Dendera on the opposite side. And because of that bear, we can’t attack them.”
“It’s so frustrating.”
“I think we’d have to attack them before spring—if we could, that is.”
Kayu Saitoh found it surprising to hear Hotori Oze mention the season of rebirth in the context of killing. She asked the woman why she thought it necessary to attack in the winter.
“It’s simple,” Hotori Oze answered. “The gap between our fighting strengths will widen. In the winter, both the Village and Dendera are weary. We’ll be able to find an opening for our incursion.”
“Hotori Oze, you really do think of nothing but attacking.”
“It’s only obvious that I should hate that foul Village. Do you not, Kayu Saitoh?”
Kayu Saitoh decided to ignore her, and soon the panorama subtly shifted her inner thoughts toward the desire for resettlement. Remaining unaware of this shift, Kayu Saitoh basked in her simple sense of fulfillment as she returned to her hut.
But when night arrived, it came with hunger that brought her back to her senses. With the return of her long-absent hunger, her stomach growled greedily, churning with the empty sounds of digestion. Having grown accustomed to potatoes and dried fish, her stomach hadn’t been satisfied by her meal—if it could even be called that—of broth with a scant few kernels of corn. Nokobi Hidaka jabbed firewood into the hearth and made a pitiful search for potatoes that wouldn’t be there. Shigi Yamamoto remained as she always was, whether her stomach was empty or not, and continued her unintelligible mumbling. Kayu Saitoh realized she was slipping into torpor, and disappointed in herself, she forced her legs to stand. She had been chosen for that night’s watch duty. She stepped out into Dendera at night and began her rounds. But even if the giant bear were to be walking about in the open, the beast would have been hard to spot; beyond the light of the fire baskets was only darkness. With only a torch to aid her, she tamed the desire to sleep that lodged in her frozen body, and she kept watch over Dendera until the next day had come in full.
Stagnation. Starvation. Languor. The women suffered these in a daily repetition. With no duties aside from keeping watch, with no food aside from meager broth, the women’s exhaustion reached its limits.
By the seventh day of their besiegement, even moving required resolve, but Kayu Saitoh nevertheless forced herself to remain active. Nokobi Hidaka stretched out on the floor, yawning repeatedly and muttering about how hungry she was, but Kayu Saitoh regarded the woman’s continued laxity as vulgar and shameful. There had been people like her in the Village. They liked it when others were made targets of a Mountain-Barring or a Finger-Cutting, and they liked to watch the punishments too; they blabbed other people’s secrets and watched in amusement as their victims were meted out punishments. When those sorts of people weren’t looking down on others, they were either sleeping idly or flushing from the fear that their own dirty secrets would be revealed. Kayu Saitoh worried that if she gave in to her hunger and lay down even once, she would become like them, and such would begin her degeneration. And so she kept moving about, even if she had to compel herself to do so. In truth, Nokobi Hidaka had degenerated and fallen into depression. The moment the woman finished her meager meals, she immediately lay back down, sucked in a bereft breath, and moaned about how hungry she was. Rather than sympathize with the woman, Kayu Saitoh felt disappointed by her. She tried to think of those who had died, but she realized that thinking
of the dead only because the behavior of the living seemed dull was a form of escapism, and escapism was a vulgar and shameful act. This only heightened her disappointment in herself.
Two more days passed, but the bear still showed no sign of coming. The food supply had at last run out, and the women began to eat straw, grinding it and kneading it with water in a stone pot. The mixture was harsh and astringent, and took effort to swallow, but it was all they had to keep starvation at bay. The very same day the Doves’ stockpile had emptied, their authority was diminished. Few listened to Masari Shiina and Hono Ishizuka’s commands, but the watch duty continued voluntarily.
The evening came with no hope of a meal. Kayu Saitoh was sitting in front of the hearth. Shigi Yamamoto was sitting in the same manner, but that was what she always did. Nokobi Hidaka was lying beside the hearth, staring forlornly into the empty stone pot.
“I’m starving,” Nokobi Hidaka said, putting a hand to her hollow cheek. “I’ve never been so miserable. I don’t care if that bear comes out—I want to go into the Mountain and find food.”
“You can’t,” Kayu Saitoh said. Malnutrition had left her mouth dry and turned her voice into gravel. “We’ve made it this far, but if you do that, everything we’ve suffered will have been for nothing. The bear is starving too. It’ll come to Dendera soon. Until then, we endure.”
“What are we living for?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t even know anymore.” Nokobi Hidaka reached for a piece of straw and put it directly into her mouth. “We fear the plague, we fear the bear, and in the end, we starve. For what reason … are we still living?”
“You’re thinking crazy things.”
“Kayu, you were right. We should have Climbed the Mountain as we were told. Lately, I’ve been thinking … I was wrong.”
“About what?”
“About the attack. It was arrogance. Who did I think I was?” Nokobi Hidaka wearily spat out the straw and whispered, “I should have stayed in the Mountain.” The woman’s sunken eyes quivered. “If I had finished the Climb, I would be in Paradise now. I’d be stuffing myself with meats and pastries.”
“Don’t talk like that. It’s depressing.”
“I’m already depressed. I’m starving. I want to die.”
“Wait three more days,” Kayu Saitoh urged. “In three more days, we’ll be at the end of this. If the bear hasn’t come by then, Masari Shiina will change her mind.”
“Three days!” Nokobi Hidaka shouted, her voice startlingly loud. “As if I can wait that long!”
“Yelling will only make you hungrier.”
“Not that it matters,” Nokobi Hidaka said, sitting up. “The rabbits are dead. The Mountain has nothing for us.”
“If that’s true, Nokobi Hidaka, then won’t you leave Dendera with me?”
Kayu Saitoh hadn’t planned on revealing her idea to the woman, but the words had come out on their own.
She didn’t know if this was the appropriate time, or if Nokobi Hidaka was the woman she should tell first, or for that matter how serious about the idea she was herself, but she knew that once she started to say it, she had to finish. Kayu Saitoh was deeply conflicted, but she hadn’t been able to stop mid-sentence, and she couldn’t pass it off as a joke. She had to say it all.
“Leave … Dendera?” Nokobi Hidaka said with a mystified expression. “What are you saying?”
“Couldn’t we leave Dendera and begin a new life somewhere else?” She found herself believing in each word as she said it, and she pressed on. “Let’s resettle.”
Slowly, Nokobi Hidaka said, “Resettle,” her mouth working as if she were eating the word itself.
“There’s no point in waiting in a place like this for the bear to come. If the bear comes, or if we starve first, either way we die. And if we’re going to die anyway, why don’t we take ourselves somewhere else, to another land? Spring will soon come. The cold will fade. The snow will melt. Come, live with me someplace new.”
“But where would we go?”
“How should I know?”
“Can you guarantee we could find a land more favorable than here?”
“How should I know?” Kayu Saitoh repeated. “I have no idea, but we have to try. It’s better than dying to some bear or starvation.” Stirred by her own words, she stood, if unsteadily. “Tomorrow, I think I’ll tell this to the people of Dendera. If we don’t hurry, someone will die first. Even if our current plan goes off as intended, I question what some starving old women could do when the bear comes. We might lose. So I want to talk about it first—even though I don’t know how many will see things my way.”
“Kayu, you’re the first person I’ve heard suggest that.”
“Dendera has never been in this much peril before. This place is already over. So can’t we abandon it? Can’t we escape? There’s nothing here we need to hold on to.”
“All right, I’ll do it.”
“That’s a big help,” Kayu Saitoh said, meaning it. “That’s a big help.”
“The first question is how many will come with us.”
“I think Kyu Hoshina will.” Kayu Saitoh looked to Shigi Yamamoto, who moved not a bit. “We’ll carry this one with us.”
Now that she had put her new vision into words—even if it had happened on impulse—Kayu Saitoh once again felt fulfilled. As an immense cloud of fear hung over Dendera, her words shone like nothing else. She felt like she might be able to bring about profound and fundamental change. Her plan to resettle could potentially leave all of their problems behind. All their problems were what they’d be leaving. Lost in a contented reverie, a gentle but unyielding need to sleep overcame her. Untroubled by her hunger, she began to sink into a saccharine slumber. She was vaguely aware of the sound of Nokobi Hidaka leaving the hut to go on watch duty, and then, as if abruptly cut off from consciousness, she was asleep.
The next morning, when Kayu Saitoh opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Nokobi Hidaka vomiting great amounts of blood into the stone pot.
5
Nokobi Hidaka collapsed where she was. Kayu Saitoh rushed to her and held her up, but the woman didn’t respond. Kayu Saitoh ran outside, scooped up some snow, and threw it on Nokobi Hidaka’s face. The woman cracked open her eyes and moved her red-stained lips, mumbling something. A foul stench rose from her mouth.
Unmistakably, the plague had returned.
And unmistakably, Nokobi Hidaka had it.
Kayu Saitoh’s thoughts flashed back to the past, and in her mind’s eye she was back in the slaughter and the blaze that the plague had brought about.
“It’s hopeless,” Kayu Saitoh whispered without thought.
It’s hopeless, she knew. If that madness swallows us again, Dendera will really be finished this time. It’s hopeless. She called out Nokobi Hidaka’s name again and again. The woman continued to mutter, her blank eyes moving weakly about. Suddenly, the life came back to her eyes and she sprang up like a seedling and moved away from Kayu Saitoh.
“No!” she shouted. “W-why … why is this happening to me? No. This isn’t the plague. I just wasn’t feeling well. That’s all. Of course, that’s all. Of course …”
She didn’t say anything after that. Vomiting blood again, she curled up in pain. The torrent of blood pooled and spread, and stained the white robes of Shigi Yamamoto, who remained seated and unresponsive.
“Don’t move,” Kayu Saitoh said, rubbing Nokobi Hidaka’s back. “Just lie down. You need to rest.”
Nokobi Hidaka didn’t stop spewing blood. Her neck muscles spasmed, her back trembled, and the vital fluid seemed like it would keep coming until she had none left inside. Kayu Saitoh didn’t know what she should do aside from rubbing Nokobi Hidaka’s back, and the frustration of it was overwhelming. She looked to Shigi Yamamoto for help, but the woman didn’t move a muscle, even with the blood so
iling her, instead sitting still beside the hearth.
At some point Nokobi Hidaka ceased to vomit, and she placed her hands on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Then, with a quivering hand, she wiped her mouth.
Her voice uncannily clear, Nokobi Hidaka said, “No, this is the plague. The plague has … has done me in. Isn’t that so, Kayu? Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Hadn’t we wiped it out? Hadn’t it gone away? This must be because I ate that bear meat.”
“No. The meat wasn’t the source of the plague. Nokobi Hidaka, you did nothing wrong.”
“I did. I did.” Nokobi Hidaka spat out the blood that lingered in her mouth. “I killed the women with the plague sixteen years ago, and I killed them again this time.”
“You’re not a bad person. You don’t need to talk like that.”
“I won’t be able to resettle with you.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I beg you. Don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want to be killed. I don’t want to be butchered. I don’t want to be set on fire.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone do that to you,” Kayu Saitoh said. “But I have to tell them about the plague.”
“I don’t want to be butchered. I don’t!”
Nokobi Hidaka sat up and reached out her red-stained palms to Kayu Saitoh.
“Calm down,” Kayu Saitoh said, pressing against her hands. “I won’t let them kill you. I promise I won’t.”
“It’s the plague! They’ll kill me!”
“I told you I promised, didn’t I? Killing doesn’t stop the plague. I know it doesn’t, so I won’t let them.”
Kayu Saitoh had proclaimed her resolve, but all she could do for Nokobi Hidaka at the moment was to lay her down and rinse the blood from her body. Then she mopped up the floor with snow and laid the woman to rest, but she did not do so while keeping calm. Inside her, turmoil built upon turmoil. She even started to let out guttural moans. She was a mindless beast, her arms and legs working briskly, but almost entirely of their own accord. As if in confirmation, her mind began to turn off. She felt herself wanting to take out her frustrations on the motionless Shigi Yamamoto, and she hated herself for it. She looked down at Nokobi Hidaka. Wrapped up in bloodstained robes, the woman was breathing raggedly, but soon she reached sleep. Her breathing steadied, but her face was ashen and the corners of her eyes developed an indeterminate twitch.