by Fuyumi Ono
"It's really important. Try to remember."
Eishuku looked away. "I must have stumbled across it at some point. Chanced upon some undersecretaries talking about it or the like."
Not true, Shuka thought, the intuition she'd gained from interacting with people over a long period of time. "You need to find out how those rumors arose. No, this is something I need to do."
"What's this, all of a sudden? Yes, if you want to, then go ahead. But once Shishou turns up, we'll pretty much be out of options."
"Or perhaps you were the one who started the ball rolling?"
Eishuku faltered for a brief moment. "Nonsense," he said. He put on a brave face, but Shuka could tell he was rattled. She knew him well enough to sense things like that.
"How did you go about recommending to Junkou that he give the Kasho Kada to Shishou?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You recommended that he do so, right? I was with you at the time."
This time, the consternation clearly showed. "To be sure, I was the one who recommended it."
"Even knowing what the Kasho Kada actually did?"
"Shuka," he said, looking at her, and there was urgency in his eyes. "What are you trying to say? Why do I get the feeling you think I've done something wrong?"
"Why?" Shuka's eyes brimmed with tears. Eishuku had been at the bottom of everything. "Why drive Shishou toward the Shitsudou? Why lay those stumbling blocks before him?"
Eishuku turned away, and then resolutely looked back at her. "I didn't tell anybody to do anything wrong. Whatever stumbling blocks Shishou tripped over were the ones of his own making."
"But you were the one who pushed him in that direction!"
"You're free to believe that, but you can't prove it."
"I can't and I don't want to. I know what you've done. That is enough."
"None of this was my fault," Eishuku shot back. "It was always Shishou." He grabbed her by the shoulders. "It all comes down to his pathetic kingship, you got that?"
"Eishuku—"
"Where did we ever go wrong? When did we ever stray from the Way? We did our level best, and things only got worse. Explain that."
"That's—"
"I've thought this through a hundred times. I don't think our ministerial colleagues have done anything wrong. They've carried out their duties with integrity, burning the midnight oil over and again. They've put their careers and lives on the line and kept their noses clean. And yet Sai falters. Why is that?"
"The same could be said of Shishou."
"Shishou is the king. He's not like us. We're responsible for our ministerial portfolios. Shishou is responsible for the kingdom. We have to believe that he's worthy of the Mandate of Heaven. Heaven made him king, but now that Mandate is all used up. He's no longer worthy of the calling. Can you think of any other explanation?"
Eishuku lowered his voice, "In fact, when it came to Junkou harboring any ill will toward Shishou, he swallowed the thing whole, without any kind of follow-up. Okay? I didn't make a stand on the issue one way or the other. I only hazarded that it might be possible. But Shishou didn't dismiss it out of hand. He didn't press Junkou personally. He swallowed it all whole. Shishou was the one who didn't believe Junkou, the one who doubted him. Who doubted us. I didn't mention treason. He concocted it it on his own."
"That hardly constitutes an explanation, Eishuku."
"Why not? I didn't do anything to Junkou. Shishou was the one who got angry at him, who grabbed his sword and flew off in a rage. A single dream was all it took for him to close his eyes to the impending destruction of the kingdom and turn all that self-conviction into arrogance. Filled with paranoia, incapable of disciplining his own emotions, he let his passions drive him to mortal sin. That's the kind of person he's become. And that's why Heaven has abandoned him."
Shuka shook free of his grasp. "You just want to lay our failures at the feet of another."
"I'm not the one who assaulted Junkou and the Taishi!"
"But you incited Shishou to commit a sin that would surely lead the kingdom to destruction. While saying that we bore responsibility for the way things have become, you were only excusing yourself. You excused yourself and blamed everything on Shishou. And in order to prove it to yourself, you led him to the edge of the cliff and pushed him off."
"I—"
"Yes, wouldn't it be so much better if you weren't one of those who'd lost his way? For example, instilling in Shishou suspicions about an insurrection, even if it meant being hauled off to gallows? Who would believe a compromised leader like Shishou? The sin would rest entirely on his head. Even if you ended up dying, you would be remembered as the wronged man."
"And so I would be."
"No," said Shuka, shaking her head. "Shishou should be no different than a brother to you. Your friend and your lord. You betrayed him. Far from saving him, you incited him to do the wrong thing. To salvage your own reputation, you forced all of our sins upon him. If that isn't a crime, then nothing is!"
Eishuku blanched.
"What could possibly be right and good about what you did?"
Eishuku was at a loss for words. Before he could summon up an answer, there came a fierce pounding on the door. "Pardon me!" exclaimed Seiki, pushing the door open.
"What's going on?"
"His Highness. He's been found," exclaimed Seiki, running toward them.
Behind Seiki came a flood of ministers and officials, their faces twisted in grief. "He has abdicated!"
Shuka froze on the spot. "What did you say?"
"The White Pheasant has sung. His Highness has stepped down from the throne and abdicated."
"Shishou—" wailed Shuka.
Seiki caught hold of her to keep her from slumping to the floor. His hair and clothing unkempt from having run here, the Daisouhaku, head of the Ministry of Spring, buried his face in the sleeves of his robes.
"Along with his abdication, we have his parting words."
The White Pheasant sang out at the king's enthronement and abdication. If possible, it repeated the final words spoken by the king before he stepped down.
"His parting words?"
"Nothing can be gained by finding fault with others," Daisouhaku recited, and collapsed in tears.
Part VIII
he hall filled with cries of grief and lamentation. Seeing how dearly Shishou was still loved, Shuka felt a painful tightness in her chest.
"Shishou—" She heard Eishuku's subdued but dumbfounded voice behind her.
"Shishou didn't run away from his own mistakes," Shuka whispered. "He chose instead to make things right."
Eishuku groaned faintly. He brushed past her and left the Imperial Court. As if following his example, the other ministers came to their feet and departed as well. But unlike the rest of the ministers headed toward the large complex of government offices east of the Imperial Court—undoubtedly to spread the news of the king's demise—Eishuku alone turned south.
"Nothing can be gained by finding fault with others."
Shuka turned at the sound of Seiki's sad and painful voice. He smiled a crumpled smile and wiped his face with his sleeve. "Just the kind of thing I'd expect Shishou-sama to say."
"I wonder what was he trying to say exactly?"
"He said exactly what he said. Blaming others and tearing them down accomplishing nothing."
"But what did he mean by it? I've criticized and blamed him—"
Seiki shook his head. "No. I believe Shishou-sama was referring to himself. He likely wished the ministers to take his own fate as moral instruction."
"Shishou? I don't understand. Finding fault with whom?"
"With King Fu."
"With King Fu?"
"I'm certain that's what he meant. I recall my mother also saying something to that effect. It was a long time ago, back during the days of Kouto. Shishou had raised the banner of Kouto and Eishuku-sama rushed to join them. I wanted to as well. I urged her to come with us to Yuunei and ta
ke part in the revolution. That was when she said something very similar to what Shisho-sama said."
"Shinshi-sama did?"
"She said that finding fault is easy, but doing so sets nothing right."
Chapter 23
Shinshi had said to Seiki, "I trust Shishou's good intentions, but I can't endorse the goals of Kouto and the like. And I told him the same thing."
"Why is that?" Seiki asked.
"I dislike this business of finding fault. I gave Shishou a piece of my mind. What he did with it after that was of his own choosing."
"I don't know what to say."
His foster mother smiled. "Don't overthink it."
"Well, ah, then please tell me. Why do you dislike about finding fault with others?"
"Because I am hardly qualified to do so. Oh, if criticism is what you want, I could dish it out from sun up to sundown. Still, I have my doubts about what Shishou is doing. Yes, it's easy to say that that's a different kettle of fish. But I'd be hard pressed to explain to you what the difference is."
"I don't get it."
"Seiki, what do you think of the state the kingdom is in? What do you think of our king?"
"I believe he has strayed from the Way. Things are in such an awful condition."
"And if the king and Taiho pass away, will you go on the Shouzan?"
Seiki blinked several times and then vigorously waved his hands. "Me? Perish the thought!"
"Why is that?"
"A person like me has no business trying to run the kingdom. That's a job better left to people like Shishou-sama and Eishuku-sama."
"Oh, so you criticize others for being unable to accomplish what you yourself are incapable of?"
Shinshi spoke in playful tones, but the flustered Seiki glanced nervously about. "Well, um, ah—"
"So perhaps the only people who have the right to criticize His Highness are those truly more capable of ruling the kingdom than he."
"Yes, that may indeed be true."
"I think the same goes for Shishou and King Fu. I don't question that things are going badly in Sai. If it all was laid at the feet of His Highness, I wouldn't necessarily disagree. That is why voices of censure are raised against him. It's quite natural. Groups are formed and protests are launched with the hope that their complaints will reach His Highness's ears. That seems to be the strategy Shishou is following. But I have to wonder how any of this is different. I could easily criticize Shishou in that regard, but I would be at loss as well to suggest a better course. It is certainly true that the course of the king and the kingdom need to be corrected. I couldn't say how, only that the course Shishou is plotting is not the right one. That alone is probably the only area where Shishou deserves criticism, wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose so."
"True reform is a different creature than that. Perhaps true reform begins by pointing to the right course rather than illuminating the wrong one."
"But isn't Shishou speaking out because he perceives the correct course ahead of us?"
"He most certainly does. And I can only say that I believe him to be taking the wrong tack. Not what the correct tack is. If, after hearing that, his sense of conviction remains firm, well, we'll just have to take our best shot and see if things turn out the way Shishou believes."
"Take our best shot—that seems awfully cold of you, mother."
"You think so? But I can't say I know what's best. Shishou isn't necessary wrong, is he?"
"And if he is?"
"If he is, then Shishou possesses the character to correct his course. That I believe." Shinshi smiled. "I'm not saying that I know Shishou is doing the wrong thing. Only that I feel a certain unease. That is enough to prevent me from becoming a supporter. But since I cannot offer a firm alternative as to the correct course of action, I don't feel I am qualified to be his critic. So you as well may do as you please. If you believe that Shishou is doing the right thing, then you should give him your full support."
Seiki had decided that Shishou was right and Shinshi was wrong. When he looked up at Shinshi with a troubled look on his face, Shinshi smiled. "You needn't worry on my account. If I am wrong and Shishou is right, and the kingdom prospers because of it, then that is the only thing that matters."
Chapter 24
Seiki said to Shuka, "Until now, I really didn't understand what my mother was talking about. Laying blame is easy. Anybody can find fault. But if that criticism doesn't point to a workable solution, then nothing good will come of it. Reform engenders something. Criticism engenders nothing."
"I don't know, Seiki."
Seiki smiled sadly. "Didn't you say so yourself, Shuka? In the end, we weren't able to do anything. Since the time of King Fu, we haven't taken a single step forward."
"I don't like admitting it, but that is the truth."
"And why is that?"
"If I understood that—"
"What about the simplest explanation? We didn't have the ability to lead the kingdom forward."
Shuka paled. She said, an uncharacteristic degree of agitation in her voice, "What—what's that supposed to me? We didn't have the ability? Shishou? Us?"
Seiki let out a small sigh. "There's nothing wrong with not having the ability to do something. There's no end to what I'm incapable of doing. I can't swing a sword to save my life. We can't all be good at everything, though we can all be good at something."
"Are you saying that running the Imperial Court is something we weren't good at? If that was the case, then why did Shishou receive the Mandate of Heaven?"
"Well, I'm not God, so I don't know. Perhaps Tentei was taking Shishou's idealism and earnestness into consideration."
"So our intentions were good but we didn't have what it took to carry it off."
"Our talents weren't the right fit for the job."
"It is not a good thing that people rise to power who are unfit to hold the reins of power. There's nothing wrong with being unqualified, except when it comes to the king and the government. An unqualified king is a contradiction of terms!"
"Which is why—" Seiki started to say. He didn't finish the sentence and bowed his head instead.
That was when it occurred to Shuka. An unqualified king was a contradiction of terms. A king unfit to govern could not be permitted to hold the office.
"And so Shishou lost the Mandate of Heaven." Shuka sank to the ground in dumbfounded amazement.
"Um—" she heard Seiki softly say. "You know, I'm basing this on what Shishou-sama said in his parting words. It is possible that he misunderstood something at a very basic level."
"A very basic level?"
"That nothing is creating by finding fault. Shishou-sama may have misunderstood that from the very beginning, and now becoming aware of its truth, he left those parting words with us."
"I don't know," said Shuka, shaking her head.
Seiki sat down in front of her and smiled. "Ruling a kingdom means building a government. Shishou-sama should have devoted his energies to accomplishing that goal. What kind of government he should establish and how he should govern it. What shape and form the kingdom ought to take. But I have to wonder if Shishou-sama ever gave any of that any consideration."
"That's ridiculous! Since Shishou founded Kouto—"
Seiki nodded. "He was always talking about how the kingdom ought to be. It was mesmerizing every time I heard him speak. But think about how things have turned out. Were those really Shishou's ideal? Oh, he had ideals, but perhaps they were nothing more than King Fu's ideals repackaged."
Shuka gaped at him.
"Taxes under King Fu were heavy. So Shishou said they should be lightened. And when he did so, the Imperial Treasury ran short of funds. There wasn't enough money left to build a single levee. Famines would strike, but nothing would be laid up in store. Nothing was taken from the people, and nothing demanded of them."
"Yes, well—"
"It never appeared to me that Shishou-sama gave any thought to what taxes were for, why
it was wrong for them to be heavy, and why it was good for them to be light. Simply that whatever King Fu had levied, he would abate. He never thought the process through to the ultimate causes and effects."
Responses arose in Shuka's mind, but she didn't know how to articulate them.
"I think it's just as my mother said. It's easy to criticize others. Especially those of us so proud of our lofty ideals. It is so very easy. But did we have what it took to put those ideals into action? I suspect we always lacked the ability to pluck those ideals out of the air and painstakingly fashion them into something solid and real. Observing King Fu's heavy hand and simply saying it should be lighter was the height of naiveté."
Seiki sighed. "Yes, lighter taxes are better. That's an ideal we can always strive for. But the people didn't profit in the slightest. They suffered when the taxes were heavy. They suffered when the taxes were light. When that happens, policies must be examined and analyzed. Conclusions must be drawn and responses drafted. But we simply skimmed the surface, and only barely."
Shuka at length grasped the point of Seiki's argument. Shinshi had instructed Shishou over and over. The proper rate of taxation can only be determined by looking closely at how the people actually live and the real conditions they face.
When asked how much, she refused to answer. Because she couldn't point at a number and say what the proper tax rate was. Try it and see what happens, was her only proposal, which Shishou flatly rejected. The taxes the people were laboring under were too heavy already, and they should only go down. That was his steadfast position.
"I think Shishou-sama got it into his head that there was one and only one ideal kingdom. It lay at the end of that golden road, and he would accept no other. To start experimenting now was out of the question. His allegiances to the Shangri-la he saw in the Kasho Kada were so strong that there could be no compromises. Except that these convictions had arisen out of his criticisms of King Fu and then fostered in his dreams."
"Yes, that's it," Shuka said to herself.
The Imperial Court was crumbling before their very eyes, and they had been content to criticize King Fu. Shuka had protested King Fu's heavy taxes along with the rest of them. Her protests were not the product of careful thought, but the result of her righteous indignation at what the people in front of her were suffering. They cried out that the taxes were too heavy and should be reduced. But strong convictions alone offered no solutions when the taxes were lightened and the lot of the people didn't improve.