The Twelve Kingdoms: Dreaming of Paradise

by Fuyumi Ono

  Shuka furrowed her brows. "Why do you say that?"

  "Oh, no, it's nothing. I'm just a bit surprised."

  "That look on your face wasn't nothing. What is it, Seiki?"

  Seiki appeared to be completely at loose ends. He glanced around the room several times as if looking for a way out, and then back at Shuka.

  "Out with it, Seiki. Time is of the essence here."

  "Well, you see, Junkou-sama firmly denied it."

  "Denied what?"

  Seiki took a deep breath and let it out. "When I met him, the subject arose of Shishou-sama using the Kado Kada to confirm the correctness of his vision for Sai, and hence his conviction about the matter. Junkou-sama let me know in no uncertain terms that such a thing was not possible. The whole thing left me with a strange feeling."

  "Why?"

  "Because Junkou-sama had always put great stock in his older brother's opinions. If Shishou said that black was white, then that's what it was. He always measured himself as inferior to his brother. To hear this same man speak with so little reserve was unusual, to say the least."

  "You may be onto something there."

  "I have no grounds for the following speculation, but I have to wonder if perhaps Junkou-sama used the Kasho Kada himself."

  Shuka opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't think of what to say. It was possible. Depressed at his inability to offer any constructive advice, he'd obtained the Kasho Kada from Sarin and then before offering it to Shishou, had used it himself. It was very possible. If he could ascertain what sort of place this utopia was, he would have more productive counsel to contribute.

  The Kasho Kada was reserved for those who ruled the kingdom. But as a sibling to the king, Junkou should qualify.

  "So Junkou saw a vision of this Shangri La and realized that this Sai and the one Shishou had in his sights were completely different?"

  "I believe so. That would explain why he was so vehement in his denials. If so, however, things take an even odder turn."

  "An odder turn?"

  "Yes. If Junkou-sama saw a vision of Shangri La and realized that it and Sai were not the same place, then how could Shishou-sama also use the Kasho Kada and come away so convinced? In that case, perhaps Shishou-sama never actually used the Kasho Kada?"

  "That's—"

  "Shishou-sama really was at his wit's end. He visited the East Palace on a daily basis to confer with the Taishi and his mother. He must have known he was sitting on a throne that was just about to break. If he didn't fix things and soon, his world was going to come apart. Besides, offered the Imperial Regalia, would it be possible for him not to use it?"

  "I imagine it would be difficult."

  "Wouldn't it, though? But supposing he did use the Kasho Kada, was terribly disheartened at the results or abruptly turned the government upside down—either would seem the likely outcome. Except he did neither. He became all the more convinced of the rightness of his course. According to Junkou-sama's recollection of events, that was about the time he presented the Kasho Kada to him."

  "Did Shishou-sama use the Kasho Kada? And thus gain new confidence? That's not possible."

  "No, it isn't. But didn't Sairin-sama say repeatedly that the Kingdom of Sai seen in those dreams should not be confused with the real Sai? That the utopia you are shown by the Kasho Kada and the Sai we know are worlds apart?"

  Shuka nodded. It was intensely painful and distressing to imagine how deep such misunderstandings might go.

  "But could it at least be possible once?"

  Shuka turned her face to him.

  "Can there be any doubt that Shishou-sama was the recipient of Divine Providence at the time of his coronation? If he'd been headed in the wrong direction from the start of the Imperial Court, could he be said to have protected and preserved throne? Could he be said to have even received the Mandate of Heaven in the first place?"

  "I can't imagine the situation was ever as bad as that. We certainly made our fair share of mistakes. At the same time, we had our successes as well, minor though they might be. But that may only be my desire to pat myself on the back."

  "Of course. It stands to reason. But something has changed. The Kasho Kada changed something. It is said that the Kasho Kado reveals in dreams a vision of utopia. Perhaps that is our original assumptions have been mistaken."

  "I don't understand your point."

  "What if—what if the Kasho Kado shows a different vision to every person who uses it?"

  Shuka's mouth opened in surprise, but she couldn't think of what to say.

  "That would explain everything. The Taiho used the Kasho Kado. But the vision she saw was unique to herself. It would have nothing to do with the goals Shisou-sama had made for himself. Junkou-sama then used it, and saw something that the Taiho had not seen, something quite apart from what Sai was."

  "Unbelievable. And then Shishou used it? And saw his own, unique utopia? And it coincided with his own visions of the future, and so reinforced his convictions."

  Seiki nodded. "I don't think the utopia shown by the Kasho Kada is a true Shangri-La. You're not seeing the way the kingdom ought to be. The utopia Shishou saw was his vision of an ideal kingdom. The utopia the Taiho saw was her vision of an ideal kingdom. Reflecting a kirin's idealism, it would be a kingdom suffused with benevolence, where not one particle of malice or hate would be found. There's no way that such a place could have anything in common with the real Sai. That's what I think is going on. The Kasho Kado doesn't point you in the right direction. It embodies your ideals and shows them to you in a dream."

  And so the two would always agree. Shuka could see how it all made sense. "But what would the purpose of such Imperial Regalia be?"

  "I think it would serve the following purpose: most people really don't know what they really want or wish for."

  "Oh, nonsense," Shuka said with a grim smile.

  Seiki eyes narrowed. "Haven't you ever been at sea about something? Unsure whether one in the hand was really worth two in the bush?"

  "Well—"

  "For example, you returned from Sou to Sai. However, Princess Bun did offer you a position with the Sou government, which no doubt delighted you. Did you not have a strong urge to stay behind in Sou? But instead you returned to Sai. Why was that?"

  "Because Eishuku persuasively argued that we should. Yes, the thought of staying in Sou crossed my mind. But as Eishuku said, we share some of the responsibility for bringing Sai to its current state. We raised the banner of righteousness. We lay the fault at King Fu's feet. We built the new Imperial Court alongside Shishou. So how could we cast all of that aside now?"

  "So did you tell yourself you could not cast it all aside, or you must not?"

  A confused look came to Shuka's face. It seemed a distinction without a difference.

  "If you say that I remonstrated with myself that I must not, I would probably agree. I do not wish to abandon our righteous cause. I must not abandon it."

  "By saying you must not, aren't you refusing to contemplate any other course of action? Because you indeed harbor doubts about doing so, you feel compelled to cast those doubts from your mind?"

  "That's not it. I don't want to be some sort of fair-weather patriot. If I did, I'd live to regret it. I'd come to hate myself. I don't want to turn into a person like that."

  "Meaning, you really have been of two minds about it?"

  Shuka didn't know how to reply. She felt sullied. She wanted to run away from herself.

  Seiki smiled. "Please, don't look at me like that. This isn't something you need to be ashamed of. You wouldn't be human if you didn't seriously consider abandoning this ship and starting all over again in Sou. Of course you would be of two minds about it. There's nothing admirable about the person who hews to the right every time without a second thought. Those who feel the temptations of sin and resolve to distance themselves from them are far more admirable in my estimation."

  "I suppose so."

  "No need to suppose.
But I believe people will always doubt their own true motives. We desire what we feel we should not do. We fret that there is something evil in even wanting it. All that worry is unpleasant, and we don't want to feel unpleasant, so practically from the start we wonder if what we really want is what we really want. Deep in our hearts our sense of conviction wavers. People are complicated things, and all those competing thoughts only muddy the picture. So we put a lid on it and fasten it down tightly and stifle our true desires."

  "You're probably right."

  "If so, then the Kasho Kada could be a tremendous help. It would unravel all the confusion and entanglements. Showing us the world we truly desire would put those doubts to rest. That's what I think the Kasho Kada is. It sifts through our ideals and removes the impurities."

  Shuka nodded. Seiki smiled. But then his faced clouded over. "The problem is whether Eishuku-sama is aware of the Kasho Kada's true nature."

  "I don't think so. He believes that its purpose has always been to show the way the kingdom objectively ought to be."

  "Perhaps it's better that way." Seiki looked away. "If he understood how it truly should be used, then recommending it to Junkou-sama would be a dreadful error."

  "A dreadful error," Shuka murmured, coming to the same conclusion, and feeling herself grow paler.

  Presenting the Kasho Kada to Shishou would have been like pushing him off the cliff toward which he was already headed. Unaware that it did not present a picture of Shangri-la, but only clarified the dreamer's own hoped-for ideals, he would have come away more convinced of the rightness of his misaligned goals, and would have lost the last, best chance to correct his ways.

  Part VII

  huka couldn't sleep. Lying in the bed, she heard Eishuku arrive home. She didn't get up to greet him and instead pretended to be asleep. She lacked the courage to look him in the eyes and ask if he knew what the Kasho Kada really was.

  She was sure he didn't. But at the same time, she wouldn't be surprised if he did. The utopia that Sairin had seen had nothing to do with the real Sai. It didn't even come close. If that point alone had been clarified, then perhaps they wouldn't have trusted the Kasho Kada so thoroughly. Then maybe they would have realized how it really should be used.

  Perhaps Eishuku did know and had recommended it to Junkou anyway. Perhaps he'd gone through Junkou to cover his own tracks. Perhaps Eishuku knew that the dreams Shishou was seeing weren't true, that the course he was pursuing could not be corrected. Knowing that he was heading toward that cliff full of conviction, Eishuku had resolved to push him off it.

  But that couldn't be true. Eishuku and Shishou had always been friends, like brothers almost. If Shishou was straying from the Way, that would make Eishuku equally guilty of the sin. That's what she feared. Couldn't there be other explanations?

  On the other hand, she couldn't help feeling that this would explain the source of Shishou's anger. Junkou had given him the Kasho Kada and Shishou had used it. Full of a renewed sense of conviction, he had ventured further down his mistaken path. Because of the Kasho Kada, Shishou had lost his last, best chance.

  If he had then learned of the Kasho Kada's true purpose, and assumed that Junkou had given it to him deliberately, she could well imagine him storming into the North Palace, sword and Imperial Regalia in hand.

  There had been rumors of Junkou's disloyalty floating around. Together with knowledge of the true purpose of the Kasho Kada, she could easily imagine Shishou jumping to the conclusion that Junkou had set out to deceive him.

  When did those rumors start to circulate?

  She had definitely heard them herself. When had they started? Who had started them? Somebody had been spreading them about. And if that somebody had whispered in Shishou's ear the truth about the Kasho Kada?

  No. This is all quite impossible.

  Eishuku was the person she had chosen as her life partner, the object of her unqualified respect and affection. That he could do such a horrifying thing—

  Quite impossible.

  Impossible that Eishuku would try to lead Shishou down to hell like that. He possessed more character than that. In fact, Eishuku had chosen to return to Sai. If his intent had been to deprive Shishou of the throne, he surely would not have returned to Sai where a death sentence for treason awaited him.

  Surely not.

  Chapter 20

  Shuka fell into a restless sleep sometime around dawn. She was awoken by a commotion coming from the main hall. Seiki rushed in as she was getting out of bed to see what was going on.

  "Ah, you're awake."

  "What happened?"

  "His Highness is missing."

  "What?" she cried out. Her legs began to tremble. "Where to?"

  "Nobody knows. The ministers are looking for him. They say his kijuu is gone as well. They're all quite at loose ends. Some think he went to see the Taiho."

  "Why would he seek out her opinion now? Seiki, has Shishou said anything about Junkou?"

  "The announcement was made during the Privy Council. Shishou-sama turned white as a ghost and collapsed. The room was quickly cleared. Shortly thereafter, he was nowhere to be found. Everybody is worried sick."

  "You don't say," Shuka said under her breath. She clasped her hands together, "And Eishuku—?"

  "He returned late last night. As usual, he sacked out in the study. And as could be expected, upon receiving this latest news, he got up and headed to Imperial Court to direct the search. He said not to wake you up, but I see that has become a moot instruction."

  "Yes," Shuka answered. She went to the main hall and there awaited further reports.

  But come nightfall, and still no more news was forthcoming. And then a clamor erupted outside the official residence.

  "What in the world is going on out there?"

  However much Shuka wanted to know, she didn't go and see for herself. She and Eishuku and Seiki were supposed to be under house arrest. Guards were posted at the gates. They turned a blind eye to Eishuku's repeated comings and goings, but that didn't mean she could just pop out for a look around.

  Seiki nodded knowingly and left the main hall. He returned a few minutes later and reported that it was nothing serious. "I offered the guards a little bribe and made my own inquiries."

  "Seiki—"

  "At critical times such as this, I think we can ignore the letter of the law. Word of His Highness's absence is spreading and the ministers are becoming unraveled. Some are fleeing the Imperial Palace while they can. Others are grabbing hold of any valuables they can. Hence the ruckus. It comes down to a lot of to-ing and fro-ing."

  "I see," Shuka muttered. She sank heavily into a chair. "Seiki, I understand that my worries may be completely misplaced, but do you think it's possible that Shishou has really fled the premises?"

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Seiki answered crisply. "For the time being, we don't know anything for certain."

  Chapter 21

  Eishuku didn't come home that night. Morning came and went, as did the next evening, and still he hadn't returned. The cacophony outside the manor calmed down, replaced by a strained silence.

  By the following morning, Shuka couldn't stand it any longer. "I'm going out," she said, getting to her feet.

  She had to see Eishuku. Her body trembled with anxiety. Sitting around doing nothing only made it worse. Where had Shishou gone off to? It'd be fine if he'd slipped away by himself somewhere. But if that in fact wasn't the case—

  Seiki sighed and retrieved a parcel from a nearby shelf. "You're under house arrest, so try not to stand out. I've borrowed some servant's garb for you to use."

  Shuka nodded and took the clothing. After changing in her room, she went back to the main hall to find that Seiki had donned a similar outfit.

  "Seiki, what's with that?"

  "I shall be accompanying you, of course. Somebody's bound to raise a ruckus if you're caught sneaking around. If we are, I'll create a diversion while you make your way back here. I've greased a
few palms, so the guards shouldn't be a problem."

  "But Seiki—"

  "The matter isn't up for debate. Let's be on our way. It's best we go under cover of night."

  After a moment of hesitation, Shuka agreed. The guards looked the other way as they left the residence. In the hours before dawn, the Imperial Palace was still as death, with no sign of human life. But they kept their heads lowered in case they encountered anybody who knew them. They hurried down the paths Seiki had chosen toward the Gaiden and the Imperial Court.

  Alert to any prying eyes, they climbed the steps to the mezzanine. The guards were not posted at the doors. They stood a ways off. They knew Shuka well but did nothing to interfere.

  "Shuka—" said the surprised Eishuku when she slipped into the room.

  With him were the Shoushikou, the Daishiba of the Ministry of Summer, the Taisai and Shousai—both were also under house arrest—and the Daishikou, who had been sacked.

  "His Highness?"

  "No sign of him." Eishuku walked up to Shuka. "No matter what, the two of us can't be seen leaving the house whenever we feel like it."

  "Eishuku, I need to talk to you about something."

  Eishuku raised an eyebrow. He glanced over his shoulder at the other ministers and nodded. "This way." He gestured to Shuka and Seiki and headed to one of the smaller rooms on either side of the hall. Shuka entered first, Eishuku after her. Seiki remained outside and closed the door behind them.

  "What's going on? Did something happen?"

  Shuka wrung her hands together. "Eishuku, where is Shishou?"

  "I don't know. His kijuu is gone. Some think he went to see the Taiho. We dispatched a carrier pigeon to Mount Samei requesting a return message if Shishou showed up. No word yet."

  "You really don't know where Shishou has gone?"

  "Why should I?" Eishuku replied, clearly surprised.

  "Yes, you're right," Shuka said. "I need to ask you something. When did you first find out that Junkou might be antagonistic toward Shishou?"

  Eishuku's expression hardened a bit. "Hard to say. Why?"