Dendera

by Yuya Sato

  Their second day on the Mountain began. Yet neither on this day did they find any sign of the bear. Time kept on passing. Kayu Saitoh was getting anxious. She started to worry that she might die on the Mountain without ever finding the bear. At her core, that didn’t particularly bother her, but somewhere within her, some part of her she didn’t have the words to describe forcefully rejected that end. She felt exasperated by this stubborn part of her, but rather than fight it, she accepted it and kept on searching for the bear.

  After some time, Hotori Oze vomited blood.

  She coughed and coughed and then collapsed on the spot.

  Kayu Saitoh and Hikari Asami ran over to her but could do nothing aside from support her back and feed her snow. Hotori Oze threw up a mixture of blood and snow and told the others to leave her be.

  “What are you doing?” she said, clearly in pain. “Hurry up and find that bear. You don’t have time to look after me. You know you don’t. Right?”

  With Hotori Oze unable to walk, Kayu Saitoh and Hikari Asami carried her to the hollow before again setting out to wander the Mountain. Then, Kayu Saitoh found an odd-looking fir tree. The hard, dark-brown outer bark had been torn away, and several claw marks had been gouged into the softer inner layer. Kayu Saitoh hurriedly fetched Hikari Asami, but the woman hardly glanced at the fir tree before announcing that it was an old mark. But then Hikari Asami ran her hand along the wood, said that the splintering on the underside of the claw marks meant it was the work of a bear, and offered some encouragement to Kayu Saitoh that the bear could be nearby. The trail ended there, however, and the following search was fruitless. The sky, glimpsed through the gaps between the trees, had turned to orange, and the wind of the Mountain spurred on the night. Thus did the second day end with still nothing to show for it.

  “That damned bear,” Kayu Saitoh muttered impatiently. “It shows up whenever it damn well pleases, but when we go looking for it, it’s nowhere.”

  Matter-of-factly, Hikari Asami said, “That’s … how animals are apt to be.”

  “What should we do? We could go back to Dendera, but I don’t want to.”

  “If we ration our food, we can last for several days. Our strength is the problem. Can you still move, Kayu Saitoh?”

  “Don’t mock me.” Kayu Saitoh swung her left arm around wildly. “Hotori Oze is the one who can’t move. I don’t think she has much time left.”

  “We can’t do anything for her. There’s no way to save her.” Hikari Asami kicked at the snow at her feet. “At least we were able to bring her a little closer to the Village … I think, to her, that’s better than dying in Dendera.”

  “Do we really have to leave her there?”

  “It’s what she wants of us.”

  “Let’s go back to the hollow for the night,” Kayu Saitoh suggested. “It’s too dark for us to find anything out here—and I want to check in on Hotori Oze.”

  Back at the hollow, Hotori Oze was lying where they had left her. Traces of frost ran along her face, where it stuck out from the straw, but she was breathing, albeit shallowly, in her sleep. Careful not to wake her, Kayu Saitoh and Hikari Asami quietly began to eat. The potatoes were too frozen to bite through, so Kayu Saitoh angrily hurled them away. The potatoes vanished into the mountainside and the quickly encroaching darkness. Merely throwing the potatoes had left Kayu Saitoh out of breath. When Hikari Asami had asked if she could still move, Kayu Saitoh had blustered, hoping to mislead the woman, but in truth her strength was almost entirely gone. Her throat’s swelling had worsened, the stump of her right arm hurt, and her legs were exhausted, puddlelike and unresponsive. Even if they could find the bear, her plan wouldn’t work if she didn’t have the stamina to carry it out. She exhaled into her cupped hand in an attempt to keep herself warm, but it had little effect.

  Night fell. Waiting for sleep that wouldn’t come, Kayu Saitoh curled up inside the hollow. The tips of her gray hair and her eyebrows were frozen stiff, and her fingernails had started to crack, possibly from the cold.

  Hikari Asami said, “So you’re still awake,” and sat down beside her. “If you don’t sleep, you’ll die.”

  “I’m scared to die.”

  The words came out of their own accord.

  “Is that so,” Hikari said with only a nod. “You’re scared?”

  “I’m scared,” Kayu Saitoh repeated, still curled up in a ball. “I’ve never really used my head for much, so I don’t know much about Climbing the Mountain. I don’t know much about Paradise, either. All I want is to die. And yet I’m afraid of dying.”

  “You’re … stating the obvious. Everyone’s afraid to die.”

  With newfound surprise, Kayu Saitoh said, “Yeah, I suppose I am stating the obvious.”

  Kayu Saitoh and Hikari Asami didn’t say anything of note after that. Having abandoned the possibility of sleep, the two simply watched the dawn’s gradual arrival.

  When the first light came streaming in to dispel a part of the darkness, Hotori Oze awoke. Staggeringly gaunt, her face had lost so much color that the crevices of her wrinkles now stood out in harsh contrast.

  Her eyes slitted, Hotori Oze mumbled as if in delirium, “I’m back … Wonderful. Wonderful. I finally made it back. I made it back …”

  “She’s hallucinating,” Kayu Saitoh said, dispirited. “She’s done now.”

  “Hmm? Kayu Saitoh, what are you doing here? What’s going on?” Hotori Oze’s eyes squinted with incomprehension as she looked at Kayu Saitoh. “You can’t be here. This is where I used to live.”

  “She’s having a dream—a dream of when she was happy,” Kayu Saitoh said, realizing that with the potatoes in her own stomach, the time would come when she would meet this same fate. “A shameful thing, but there’s no shame in it now.”

  “I don’t think she’s looking at us.”

  Hikari Asami was right; Hotori Oze’s eyes were moving randomly, and it was hard to tell if she was seeing anything or not.

  “Take a look, Kayu Saitoh,” Hotori Oze whispered faintly. “What do you think? It’s beautiful, isn’t it? This, this is how bountiful the place I lived was. It’s nothing like the Village. Listen to all the birds. And we have squirrels and rabbits in abundance. Even the moles are fat … making all their holes in the dirt. Just a little farther ahead, there’s a little field, where in the spring, butterbur and horsetail and plants of all kinds grow in plenty. Fish swim in our mossy river—lots of them, and all of them big. Carp with bright green scales, plump redfin … Look, you can see them over there. I really enjoy trying to catch them as they splash about.”

  “She’s completely lost it,” Kayu Saitoh muttered hopelessly. “Carp and redfin don’t swim the same waters.”

  “My home … is not like your Village. It’s not squalid.” Hotori Oze’s vacant gaze roamed about. “Even the mud has turtles and eels. When you step in it, it’s funny how they all scatter. That’s in the place I lived. Your Village doesn’t have that. And everyone wears beautiful kimono, and they’re always smiling. Always. And in the spring, the butterbur bloom red and blue flowers, and …”

  The talk of her dream was interrupted when she vomited blood. It came in a retching fit, sullying her own face with splashes of red. Kayu Saitoh and Hikari Asami tried wiping her clean but had to give up when the blood kept coming.

  Hotori Oze’s face twitched into something of a grin. “Kayu Saitoh, I’m glad … I was able to show you. How about it? What do you think of my old home? It was beautiful, right? It was truly beautiful, right?”

  “I know. Don’t say another word.”

  Hotori Oze likely didn’t intend on obeying Kayu Saitoh’s command, but she closed her lips until only her front teeth showed, and she took several deep, loud breaths, and then moved no more.

  Hikari Asami watched over her until the end, then said, “We’re burying her. If anyone Climbing the Mount
ain finds her … it’d mean trouble.”

  The hollow was free of snow, and burying her wasn’t that difficult in and of itself, but it was gloomy work, and one that required perseverance. When the two women had scooped out just enough soil to fit Hotori Oze entirely, they lowered her body and covered it with dirt. Kayu Saitoh wished she could have left a gravestone or wooden marker, however makeshift, but she had to abandon the thought. As Hikari Asami had said, someone Climbing the Mountain might find it. When the two women finished their work, Kayu Saitoh, completely exhausted, slumped back down to sit, even though this was only the beginning of their third day on the Mountain.

  But Hikari Asami didn’t do the same. Her eyes were bright and earnest, and her expression was one of caution. She slowed her breath until she hardly breathed. Her ears twitched, the sensitive movement animal-like, and she began to sweat despite the cold of the Mountain. The muscles around the base of her neck were taut and trembling.

  “What’s wrong?” Kayu Saitoh asked.

  “Hush,” Hikari Asami whispered.

  Kayu Saitoh understood what that meant, and in the next moment, her mouth had gone completely dry, and her inflamed throat felt hot.

  Hikari Asami stepped out from the hollow. Remaining on alert, she looked all around, turning her head like a restless little bird, then motioned for Kayu Saitoh to come. Kayu Saitoh moved, remaining cautious herself. Hikari Asami seemed to be mindful of the wind’s direction, and she opened her mouth a crack and motioned with her head. Kayu Saitoh nodded her understanding. The woman crouched and went on the move, with Kayu Saitoh following after. Hikari Asami scrambled up the Mountain’s slope on her hands and feet, and Kayu Saitoh, with only one arm, had to do all she could to keep up. Still facing ahead, Hikari Asami impatiently admonished her to stop making so much noise. Kayu Saitoh wished she could, but with one arm, moving silently proved a difficult task.

  The two elderly women scrambled up the Mountain and dove into a thick growth of bamboo grass to hide. Hikari Asami carefully poked out her head and looked all around. Not wanting to get in the way, Kayu Saitoh crouched down and kept quiet, but when Hikari Asami told her to look too, she lifted her head and saw a sweeping vista of the Mountain glittering in the morning sun.

  And there, in the distance, she saw the bear.

  The creature was roaming majestically through the Mountain—through its domain. Four stout legs powered the ambling beast’s bulk, which was peppered with festering burns and scars. But judging from the healthy, rippling movements of the muscles on its shoulders and rump, and the bushy luster of the red fur on its back, the bear hadn’t lost its vigor or will. Hikari Asami must have noticed it too, because she let out a disappointed sigh.

  The bear roamed about, twitching its ears and nose, seeming to make more use of those senses than its vision. Every now and then, it stopped to brush its paws on the ground while its red fur swayed.

  Hikari Asami whispered into Kayu Saitoh’s ear. “It seems to have noticed us … but it doesn’t know where we are. But … it’s only a matter of time. We moved downwind, but we can’t escape the bear’s nose.”

  “Will it find us?”

  “It’s only a matter of time,” Hikari Asami repeated. “Kayu Saitoh, it’s up to you now.”

  Her parched throat trembling, Kayu Saitoh stared at the bear. Inside, she was shaking, but outside, her body was as stiff as a dead dog. Her eyes wavered not one iota as she stared steadily at the bear and the bear alone.

  But Kayu Saitoh was preternaturally calm and quiet. One could even call her relieved. Outside of fairy tales, a person could never become a bear, but Kayu Saitoh felt attuned with the bear’s emotions and senses, and in her thoughts a single scene came into view.

  5

  Redback sensed that the Two-Legs were somewhere near, but she couldn’t see where. Maddened, she brushed her front paws on the ground and made a threatening sound. Meanwhile, she sniffed and sniffed and moved her soft, furry ears about. Redback—and all bears for that matter—relied on their senses of hearing and smell to find their prey. Redback focused her attention on the smells wafting around her. She opened her mouth a little, stuck out her tongue, and sucked in the cold air. This way, she could smell the very currents of the wind, but the stink of the Two-Legs was now absent. She knew this meant her prey had escaped downwind, and it was there she narrowed her gaze.

  She saw the familiar mountainscape.

  She’d seen it—this domain she ruled—enough to grow tired of it.

  And Redback saw the Two-Legs blended into it. Their faces were sticking out from the bamboo grass. And they were facing her direction. They had noticed her too, but she didn’t shrink back, instead turning to face them. The two Two-Legs had hidden themselves in the bamboo, and when she met one of their gazes, an unfamiliar sensation came over her. The sensation was so alien that she nearly lost her balance. She remembered when she had seen those eyes before. The second time she had attacked the place where the Two-Legs dwelled, her gaze met one of theirs, and in those eyes she had seen something kindred.

  Redback didn’t understand the Two-Legs.

  She didn’t understand what they thought and why they lived.

  She didn’t understand for what purpose they existed.

  But in those eyes staring back at her, she saw a deep and almost impudent understanding. To Redback, this was displeasing, but more than that, it was an enigma.

  Redback had known caution and worry, but this sensation that now assailed her was something new. She felt her feral intellect ill-suited to deal with this situation. Her life had one course: live in solitude, give birth to a cub, and raise it. To deviate from this path was beyond her capabilities. And so when Redback decided to stop thinking, she did so with immediate success. Rather than go through the pretense of agonizing over the differences between herself and the Two-Legs, she chose simple faith in her claws and fangs. She chose to obey her instinctual imperative: Kill and devour. Redback was a creature of the wild; such was her limitation, and also her strength.

  She needed to survive. She needed to live; to overcome the cold and barren winter, to recuperate in the warmth of spring, to rule over her domain, to raise her next-born cub to be the next ruler. Those were her only reasons to live, but to Redback—and to every wild animal—they were enough. The reasons were as unyielding as they were simple.

  Strength coursed through Redback’s massive body.

  When the muscles in her legs and shoulders and abdomen and rump were brimming with power, she released the energy in a mighty roar. The trees shook, snow falling loose from their branches. It was a threat and a declaration of war. Upon hearing that roar, any creature smaller than her on the mountain would spring into flight, but the Two-Legs remained motionless as they stared at her. Though she had spurned any thought of the Two-Legs, her fear returned anew. She couldn’t comprehend why these creatures, weaker than any other animal on the mountain, didn’t run. The sound of her cry should have filled them with overwhelming terror. Staring at her like they did was an agreement to battle. Redback discarded all doubt. With the red fur standing along her back, she advanced, closing distance with the Two-Legs. They remained still within the bamboo grass.

  With survival of the winter at stake, she launched herself at them.

  6

  “It’s coming,” Kayu Saitoh said when she saw the bear begin its charge. “I’ll take it from here. Hide yourself, Hikari Asami.”

  Kayu Saitoh leaped out from the bamboo grass, and after a moment’s hesitation, ran in the opposite direction from the bear. A rush of exhilaration filled her, and blood pumped into her eyes, as she numbed to the noises and sights of the world around her. Running was all to her now. She didn’t even notice the branches and bamboo stalks tearing at her white robe, and it took some time for her to realize that Hikari Asami was running directly behind her.

  “Why are you following me?” Kayu
Saitoh shouted, running as fast as she could. “I thought you wanted to live. I thought you wanted to go far away. You’ll get killed!”

  “The bear will catch up to you too quickly alone. You should know by now how powerful its legs are.”

  “But—”

  “Let me help you.”

  “Do what you want, you fool!”

  As she shouted, she leaped down a drop-off and twisted her ankle on landing, but she ignored the pain and took off running again.

  The two women sprinted down the Mountain.

  Kayu Saitoh hurdled over fallen trees, strode across hollows, and seemed to skate atop the snow, but as the Mountain sights flew past in a perpetual, turbulent whirl, she lost sense of where she was going.

  Hikari Asami grabbed her left arm and pulled her along.