by Kara Dalkey
Tadashi smiled again. "Ah, good. You are an unusual girl, Lady Mitsuko, but you are wise. I am sure you will do what is right. You may retire early this evening to get your rest. Perhaps your dreams will be more peaceful tonight, neh?"
"Thank you, Holy One," I said, bowing once more. "I hope so." I left her presence as gracefully as I could. But my feelings of anxiety did not pass, and my dreams that night were no different than before.
***
Three mornings later, I was summoned to go to the Outer Garden of the temple. My heart fell, for I feared it was an emissary from Papa come to ensure that I go home. But as I walked the stone path through the chill early-morning mist, I thought it strange: The Outer Garden pavilion was where visitors who were not Buddhist were received.
A kicho had been set up for me on the pavilion platform, and I sat on the cushion beside it. Clearly my visitor was a stranger, then. Had it been a relative, a curtain of modesty would not be necessary. Could my father have sent a suitor for me all the way to the temple? How embarrassing that would be! What would I do with him? I looked to make sure the edges of my wide kimono sleeves did not stick out beneath the curtain frame, for I did not wish to seem flirtatious. I was grateful the light was misty, so that my visitor would not see my shadow on the silk curtain. I tried to remember the advice of my eldest sister, Amaiko, on how to genteelly turn away men's attentions, but I had forgotten it. I have no knowledge of proper things, I thought, sighing. And I don't really want to know them. I do not belong at Court.
A lone bush warbler sang sadly in a nearby tree. The scents of incense and wood smoke drifted on the air. The mist parted a little, and dim sunlight fell upon the pavilion as if the sun itself were hiding behind a screen of gray silk. It brought out the golden color of the chrysanthemums growing near me. The morning dew sat heavy on their petals, and I murmured:
Oh, youth-giving dew,
help me stay a child always
free from worldly cares.
Someone sat on the other side of the kicho. He said:
Chrysanthemums fade,
but their dew-drenched glory stays
ever young in memory.
It was the voice of an old man, someone familiar. "Dento!" I said, as I remembered. I almost clapped my hands with joy.
"I am pleased you remember me, Lady Mitsuko," the old monk said, "though it has been many months since we last spoke."
"How could I forget one who helped my family when we were so troubled? It is good of you to come visit this insignificant one. But I do not understand why you are here. You could have come into the temple itself. You are of a Buddhist sect, neh?"
"Not every temple welcomes an ubasoku, even one of the Shingon sect, my Lady. My… appreciation of Shinto faith and provincial mountain rituals are frowned upon by some. And a Certain Personage in the temple might not approve of my speaking to you."
I assumed he meant Tadashi. Did he know her? I supposed that if one were old enough and wandered enough, one would eventually know everyone important. "Then I will not tell her.
I am pleased you are here, anyway. What has brought you to this out-of-the-way place?"
"Strange winds have wafted me down from the mountains," he said.
My breath seemed to harden within my chest. "Strange winds…" I gasped.
"Know you something of strange winds, my Lady?"
Ubasoku are said to have wizardly powers-perhaps he somehow knew my plight. Or perhaps the same kami haunted him. I had to confide in him. "Oh, Dento, I need your help again! I have been troubled for many nights by dreams filled with wind. It whispers and moans, and calls my name, and tells me of a promise I have not kept."
"Indeed?" said Dento. "I was referring to an ancient poem, but now I see there was purpose to my mutterings. So, what sort of spirit is this, and what promise have you not kept?"
I put my hands to my head as if to hold in my fears. "I do not know! In my dreams, I see pine trees waving against a dark night sky, but that is all."
"Hmm," he said. And "Hmmm" again. "How interesting."
"I am sure this spirit is angry with me and is bringing bad luck to Sukaku Temple."
"I assume this is not a prank of your tengu friend?"
I was surprised a moment, then remembered that Dento had met Goranu during our troubles in the past. "No, it is not Goranu. I am certain of that."
"Ah. Well. It is a powerful kami who can trouble you within holy temple grounds, let alone bring bad luck there."
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling very cold inside. Was he confirming my worst fears? "But a kami god or spirit lives in one place, neh? If I have offended one, it could not disturb me unless I am where it lives."
"Kami can travel, Mitsuko. Particularly this month, when it is said they go to Izumo to gather together and discuss the world."
"So one of them has decided to miss the gathering and haunt me instead?" It was difficult to keep my voice steady.
"Wait, Mitsuko. Do not let your thoughts jump around like startled rabbits. Let us look closely at your dreams. You say that you see pine trees? You know, in my recent wanderings in the western mountains, I came upon some hunters who were distressed. It seems that they can no longer enter their favorite hunting grounds because of some disturbed spirit that now lurks there. They also mentioned pine trees… whose boughs danced when there was no wind. But that was in Tamba Province, which is far from here."
I sat up straight. "Tamba Province? But I have been there, Dento."
"Have you? Ah, yes, that was where I first met your family. And tried to help your poor sister. Then you and she ran away."
"Just so. When Lord Tsubushima came for us and tried to make my family move to his castle, we fled into the mountain forest. And there we hid for the night in a…" I felt suddenly as though the Buddha Himself had struck me, and I nearly fell over. The kicho screen wobbled as I leaned against it.
"Lady Mitsuko? What is the matter?"
"A kami shrine!" I gasped, and almost laughed with relief. "We hid in a kami shrine! It was just a little one, and in terrible condition, and I thought it was abandoned." Memories of that night came back to me. How my sister and I found the shrine, which looked like a little house, just when we could run no farther, and we took shelter in it. Dento had given me sakaki leaves and rice paper on which prayers had been written, for protection. "I took your prayers and stuck them into the roof beams, and I promised… Oh, Blessed Amida!"
"Please, Mitsuko, go on."
"I promised the kami of the shrine that if it helped my sister and me, I would see that the shrine was repaired and that the kami would not be forgotten. Then Goranu and the other tengu showed up and befriended us and took us to their village."
"Ah. Which is what led to your family being reunited."
"Yes, and my sister healed. Oh, Dento, the kami did help, and I have never kept my part of the promise. No wonder it is angry!" I buried my face in my wide kimono sleeves, not knowing if I should laugh or cry. If it is not Lord Emma-O, then perhaps I and my family are still safe.
"But you have your answer now," said Dento. "The proper thing to do seems clear enough. You must keep your promise and repair the shrine."
I paused and stared at his shadow on the kicho curtain. "But-I cannot travel all the way to Tamba Province by myself and rebuild a shrine with my own hands. I was so much younger when I made that promise. Just a child, really. I didn't know what I was saying. You cannot be serious, Dento."
"Serious? It is serious to the kami who speaks in your dreams, neh? Serious enough for it to dare the holy walls of Sukaku Temple."
I fidgeted with the edges of my sleeves. "But surely we can make the kami understand that such a thing is impossible."
"Impossible? Is this the same Mitsuko who bravely kept her sister out of the castle of Lord Tsubushima? Is this the same girl who wanted to storm the heights of Mount Hiei and order the warrior monks to properly bury her brother-in-law? The same girl who, if the tales be true, dared
enter the realm of the Lord of Death himself?"
I wished he had not remembered that. I swallowed hard and wished the sunlight, which now was brightly burning the mists away, would hide itself again behind the clouds. "My father once told me that great battles were easier than the little bureaucratic problems he faced at Court. It is not so simple, Dento. And the girl who did all those things has… changed." Where had my courage fled these past two years? Had I hoped that by hiding among pilgrims in temples, I would never have to face my past?
I didn't feel powerful, or important, or brave. It wasn't bravery that had let me search for Amaiko's soul. Visiting the netherworld had been Goranu's idea. I had merely traveled along and done what I had to when I got there. I only dared visit the Lord of Death because I loved my sister so.
"That Mitsuko has changed? Nonsense. She is merely sleeping, dreaming of the Buddha and the Life to Be. It is time to reawaken to the world."
"But we are taught that the world is illusion," I protested.
"It is easy to think so, until you stub your toe on a rock," said Dento. "Come now, you are not without resources. Are you not a Fujiwara? With the most powerful clan in the Empire behind you, what could you not do?"
"It is not so simple," I said again, twisting a strand of my long black hair between my fingers. "It is because I am Fujiwara that they may not let me do anything. I am too important in… other ways. You are free to travel. I am not."
"Then you must convince your family of the importance of your task. It is to you the kami calls. It is your duty to appease it."
"I seem to be gathering duties," I grumbled.
"We have them from the day we are born. That is gimmu, neh? But you need not be crushed by such burdens, Lady Mitsuko. Doesn't the porter or the stonemason become stronger from the weight he must carry? As I see it, there is much to be said for shouldering one's debts cheerfully and discharging them well. The challenge invigorates the spirit, and helping others brings grace to one's nature. Surely fulfilling your promise to the kami will further you upon the Heavenward Path."
This philosophy was somewhat different from what the monks of the temple taught about distancing oneself from the sin-filled world. No wonder the monks disapproved of Dento.
"You know," he continued, "there is a Tightness to this duty you must perform."
I turned and frowned at his shadow on the kicho. Even he does not listen to what I say. "Rightness? For a noble girl to rebuild a shrine?"
"How much do you know of your clan's history, my Lady?"
"Only the stories I heard as a child." Most of them had been about great wars and who married whom. I had not paid much attention to them.
"The Fujiwara have been powerful for many centuries, Mitsuko. They served the Imperial family even before the Capital was at Heian Kyo, before it was at Nagaoka. Even back when the Palace was in Heijo, the Fujiwara served at the Emperor's side. Your clan was called Nakatomi then, and their specific office was to serve and chant Shinto prayers before the Sacred Mirror. This was before the Way of the Buddha became known on these islands."
I sighed, losing interest in his words. I could not see what this history had to do with me.
As if he read my thoughts, Dento moved closer to the kicho and said, "But the women of the Nakatomi were different than the Fujiwara are now. Many Nakatomi ladies were shamans and ubasoku-diviners and healers of great power-such as Queen Himiko of Yamatai."
"They were?" My hair started to stand on end, though I could not say why.
"Yes! And although such magically talented women have not been seen in the Fujiwara line for many, many years, I think at last one may have come forth again."
"Me?"
"Just possibly. This may be why the kami of the forgotten shrine is so angry. Your promise had sacred power, while one from an ordinary girl would not."
"Oh. I see." I pulled my kimonos tighter around me.
"I believe I have seen that shrine," Dento said, "during my wanderings. If I am thinking of the right place, it is an odd little structure."
"Odd? How so?" As my family is Buddhist, I was not at all familiar with the different sorts of Shinto shrines.
"Normally, a shrine is placed in an impressive setting: near a waterfall, or a mountainside where there are beautiful views, or even an interesting boulder. Your shrine, if it is the one I think, had no such landmark. In fact, its setting is quite ordinary."
It had not seemed ordinary to me, but then it had been a haven amid the dark, forbidding pines. "Perhaps it was built to honor the kami of the whole forest," I suggested.
His shadow on the screen shook its head. "Had that been true, my Lady, a better location would have been found, and it would have been a more elaborate structure."
I tugged on my hair as if trying to pull thoughts from my head. "Well, perhaps the shrine is terribly ancient and devoted to something else, and the forest grew up around it."
"Ah. That is a very perceptive thought. I do recall there may be some historical significance to the place, but I cannot recall what it is."
I confess, I began to grow more curious about the strange little shrine and how a kami of great power might have come to reside there. A part of me had been feeling caged living in the temple dormitory, and I looked forward to traveling again. "You are right, Dento. I am being too stubborn. Surely my family could help me repair a simple little shrine. After all, my sister Sotoko lives near there now, with her new husband. I am sure they would know what to do."
"Ah. There is the brave Mitsuko I remember. And besides, if all else fails, you can always call upon your tengu friend for assistance, neh?"
"I suppose," I murmured, although I hoped that would not be necessary. I had asked so much of Goranu in the past, and given him so little in return.
"Your way is clear, then. You must go back to Heian Kyo to enlist your family's help."
"Will you come with me, Dento, to help explain things to my father?"
"I wish I could, Mitsuko, but there is a village to the south of here haunted by sickness. I must go and perform cleansing rites, and perhaps learn the source and nature of the ailment to rid them of it."
"Oh." I was disappointed, but what could I say? I could not order him to choose one duty over another.
"But you are clever, Mitsuko, as well as brave. I am sure you will be able to manage things."
"I will do my best," I murmured. "Thank you, Dento. I will remember all you have told me."
We said our good-byes then, but as his shadow vanished from the kicho curtain, I wished I could reach my hand through the cloth and grasp the hem of his jacket to keep him from going. Without his guidance, I feared I would be lost. I heard his footsteps departing on the garden flagstones, and soon I was alone. I hurried back to the temple to make my preparations. I sent Tadashi a note:
Like grass in the wind,
this dutiful daughter bows.
I will return home.
That night, my dreams were different. I saw a woman in many bulky old-fashioned kimonos, her long hair waving wildly about her, dancing in a forest of pines. She was shaking sakaki branches in her hands and chanting something I could not hear. I felt I had seen her face before-dimly glimpsed in the Land of the Ancestors. Again the wind entered my dream, but it was calmer than before. The pines did not whisper my name, and I slept better than I had in days.
ACTION
What a cheerful sound! The turning of a carriage wheel on the homeward road.
Only five days later, a carriage arrived from Heian Kyo to take me back to the Capital. The messenger bearing my letter to my father must have run like the wind! Twenty Guardsmen of the Inner Ward, looking splendid in their red capes, accompanied the carriage. It was one of my father's finest: black lacquered wood with red and gold cords woven into the latticework sides, the Fujiwara crest printed on the silk curtains, and a roof-canopy of carefully split palm leaves. The two oxen that drew the carriage had polished horns and shiny black coats, and were very well match
ed. Surely anyone seeing this procession would say, "There goes a lady of importance indeed!"
As I watched the servants loading my things into the carriage, Tadashi came up beside me. "So, Lady Mitsuko. Off to your grand future at last. I am sorry to see you go, for you have brought some noble grace to our provincial temple. I hope your journey home is safe and pleasant."
I bowed to her. "I thank you, Holy One, for allowing me to study here. I have learned much, and I hope to return someday." I looked back at the carriage and sighed. "Why did my father take so much trouble for me?"
Tadashi smiled. "A lady of the Good People is like a precious jewel, Lady Mitsuko. She must be surrounded by those things that display and enhance her quality. You must remember this when you begin your service at Court."
"I will, Holy One," I said, although it seemed I was more like a songbird being coaxed into a cage than a jewel. I allowed the guardsmen to assist me in getting into the rear door of the carriage, where another surprise awaited me.
"Hey, Little Puddle in the Clouds! Good to see you again!"
"Mochi?" I fell ungracefully onto the carriage seat in astonishment. It was, indeed, the rice cake girl whose family had taken me in when my father's house burned down. But she had changed. She now wore the many-layered silk kimonos of a servant in a noble household, but in a most displeasing arrangement. Even I knew that one did not wear the pink kimonos of spring over the gold ones of autumn. She had attempted to shave her eyebrows and stain her teeth with purple berries in the classic Court fashion. Such attempts at the noble ideal of beauty looked strange on her sun-browned face.
She tugged pridefully on her sleeves. "Not Mochi anymore. I hardly ever make rice cakes now that I serve in a great Fujiwara house. Now you may call me Suzume."
So, I was not the only one gathering names. Sparrow, however, was at least an appropriate name for her to take, as she was such a common little creature. It may seem harsh to say so, but I was annoyed with her. Not so much because she was taking on the airs of those more noble than she, but because she had changed. I had been used to her plain clothes and blunt ways-that was what I had liked about her. It was disturbing to see her so different. It was as though I had never really known her.