The stars were already fading from the sky.
By the time he finally passed the station at Hakone-Yumoto
, the outlines of the Hakone mountain ridges were becoming visible against the lightning eastern sky. At this hour traffic was light, and National Highway 1 was pleasantly deserted. Despite the limited visibility caused by a light fog, the Windom shot toward Motohakone on the dawning highway.
Naoe’s gaze was focused straight ahead, and he took no notice of the scenery emerging like an ink painting around him as his foot held the accelerator mindlessly to the floor. Yet the view felt familiar somehow: it was only upon taking the corner at Hakone-Kowakien that he recognized it as the Tokyo-Hakone relay marathon race course broadcast every New Year’s.
(Where are you?)
This was where Kagetora wanted him.
Discerning the meaning behind Kagetora’s visit last night had taken a backseat to his more immediate reactions of disbelief and horror. But even after putting together Maiko and Katakura’s stories, his reason told him that the possibility of those reactions being justified was high.
(Then...that means...he was attacked by a tsutsuga?)
Could it be that like Shinya, he had already been tree-bound?
It was clear from his conversation with Ayako that they had not heard from Takaya since his disappearance from Toshimaen Amusement Park that afternoon two days ago. He had called Takaya’s house late last night, but as expected, Takaya had not returned. Takaya’s own message gave them the only other reliable information they had.
(O-DA-WA-RA—...)
Takaya had sent him several images—images of places. One had been of a castle Naoe recognized. He was certain that it had been Odawara.
Another had been the image of a lake: a large, dark, uniquely-shaped lake ringed by thickly-forested mountains. A caldera lake?—with what looked like vermilion Shinto shrine gates rising from it.
Perhaps it was the view Kagetora looked out upon from wherever he was now. Or—no. He shouldn’t make that assumption. It was also possible that Kagetora was relaying those images from someone else’s mind.
(I would not put it past him...)
At least, past a Kagetora who had regained full use of his «powers». In any case—
(Odawara...?)
That one word held a world of significance. His sense of foreboding certainly seemed to have been justified. Ever since learning of Houjou’s involvement during the ‘Tsutsuga Mirror’ incident in Nikkou, that foreboding had coiled around him like black smoke. That was what had caused cold sweat to slide down his back upon Kagetora’s appearance in the mirror.
The Fuuma Clan, the Tsutsuga Mirrors, the tree-bound Shinya, ‘Odawara’, and— the missing Kagetora appearing in the mirror...
When he connected the dots, it was easy to come up with a theory about what had befallen Kagetora.
(The Houjou Clan—) he muttered darkly to himself. He emerged from the curve, scowling at the widening vista ahead. Past the next corner, a beautiful lake came into view, glittering in the morning light: Lake Ashi.
The shrine’s parking lot was locked, barring entrance. Naoe was forced to stop the Windom at the bottom of the shrine path. It was surprisingly difficult to drive with his shoulder wound, and his entire body felt peculiarly heavy—though perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised about that, since no doctor would have allowed him to move around with his injuries. He had force-injected himself with a shot of painkillers, shaken off Maiko’s protests, and driven all night like a madman from Nikkou. All composure had flown out the window for the normally unflappable Naoe. Though he might have arrived at a state of mind ‘free from obstructive thoughts,’ he was running on fumes after a night of almost uninterrupted driving, and the exhaustion abruptly dragged him down like dead weight as soon as he got out of the car. His shoulder oozed pain.
(Should I take a look?)
This was no time to be worrying his own injuries.
The place Naoe had come to was Hakone Shrine, located on the banks of Lake Ashi in Motohakone. Also called the Hakone Avatar, this richly historic shrine had once been held in deep reverence by such luminaries as Minamoto no Yoritomo, Houjou Souun, and even Tokugawa Ieyasu, and under their patronage became the shrine of the tutelary god of the entireKantou. The famous annual Festival of the Lake Waters was a signature event of the Hakone Lake Ashi summer.
At this early hour, only the chirping of birds disturbed the silence of the grounds.
(Here?)
The image Kagetora had sent him via the mirror. His message of ‘Odawara’ was the basis of Naoe’s belief that the Shinto shrine gates rising from the lake belonged to Hakone Shrine. He had visited it many times in the past, and it was located very near Odawara. Hakone lay at the center of Houjou’s sphere of influence; more than that, it was the territorial base of the Fuuma Clan. If he truly had been waylaid by the Houjou, there was a high probability that this was their base of operations. One might call these precipitous heights a perfect hiding place.
The Houjou... Kagetora’s great-uncle, Houjou Gen‘an, had once been the head of Hakone Shrine. Gen’an, son of Houjou Souun, had later returned to secular life as the Houjou family elder and was known as the greatest man of culture of the Kantou. For a while he had adopted Kagetora as his son and heir, but after Kagetora’s adoption by Uesugi and the dissolution of that previous relationship, Gen’an’s grandson Ujitaka had become his successor. In the old days, Kagetora had often mentioned these events, and from the way he spoke of Gen’an, it was plain that he had greatly loved and honored him. But he hardly ever touched on the thereafter. If he had never been adopted by Uesugi, he would have succeeded Gen’an as his heir and become the master of Kodukue Castle and a pillar of the clan. His life would have been entirely different. But Kagetora, too, must know the futility of looking at the past with a chorus of ’if onlys’ on his lips.
Still, those reminiscences meant that Naoe was well-informed indeed where the Houjou was concerned.
But if this was the Houjou’s base...then he stood right in the middle of the enemy camp. Did they know that Kagetora had sent him a message asking for help? And if so, had they allowed the message to reach him? It was conceivable that they had deliberately turned a blind eye to Kagetora’s SOS in order to lure him in—which meant they had laid a trap for him?
(Not that it matters now...)
He fixed a hard stare on the high tips of a cedar tree.
(What next?)
He had to locate Kagetora immediately. Had he really been devoured by the tsutsuga? Had he been tree-bound? Yet the trail ended here. If that image had been from Kagetora’s vantage point, he was wasting his time here.
He had come to this place despite that knowledge for one reason: for a little while now he had felt someone calling to him. Reaching ceaselessly out to him.
What was it? It prickled at his sixth sense—a type of thought-wave, perhaps. ‘Come,’ it told him. It was not his imagination; it had stopped just as he’d arrived at Hakone Shrine, though it had been his constant companion ever since he’d entered the Hakone mountains. He didn’t know who was summoning him, only that it was not Kagetora.
(A trap it must be, then...?)
He held his breath, seeking an enemy he could not see.
(Who is behind this?)
Nothing moved. Hoping to draw his enemy out into the open, Naoe walked toward the lake.
He descended the flight of stone steps within the forest, then went toward the great shrine gates rising out of the lake until he emerged onto the stone-paved wharf from which the head priest’s boat set out during ceremonial rites.
The surface of the lake was quiet, smooth. His reflection looked back at him from beneath his feet. Then it blurred, and it was Kagetora looking back at him.
(If I had been with him...)
None of this should have happened. Naoe had castigated himself over and over again as the miles passed. What had he been doing? What in the world had he been doing away from Kagetora instead of at his side protecting him? The mistake was his, and ‘mistake’ didn’t even begin to describe the magnitude of it. His own puerility had led to this. What was he doing here if not protecting Kagetora? Did he think he was the victim, the tragic hero of some gods-forsaken soap opera? Was he waiting for someone to show him sympathy? So what if he lived in pain? So what if his life was mired in anguish? His lord was in danger—plunged into mortal peril—and it was his fault. His fault alone. How could he have deserted him...?!
(Kagetora-sama...!)
Suddenly blazing with impatience, Naoe sent a thought-wave out toward the lake. Perhaps it would reach him. Perhaps he would respond.
(Where are you?!)
The lake gave no reply. The dread driving him to the point of self-flagellation was unbearable. If only he at least knew what had happened to him...
“...!”
Naoe whirled as he felt a presence approaching from behind. A man was descending the shrine’s stone steps. Glaring at him, Naoe shifted conspicuously into fighting stance, prepared for an instant attack.
The man stopped in the middle of the stairs, his calm gaze fixed on Naoe. As if he had been waiting for him.
“So you’ve come after all.”
“Who are you?”
“...”
The man was of average height. Though his face was young, his eyes were strangely serene. Imperturbable.
(Was it him...?)
The one who had called him here?
His ‘energy’ felt very similar to the thought-wave that had summoned him.
(Who is he?)
Naoe could not tell his intentions. For a long moment he simply stood there, silent, but Naoe refused to drop his guard for an instant. As if taking pity on him, the man finally spoke.
“I wanted to meet you, to see what kind of a man you are for myself...”
“What?”
“To decide if I should kill you. Or not.”
Naoe’s eyebrows lifted sharply.
“...Yet I find myself irresolute, even at this very moment. I believed that it would be better for Saburou if you were to die.”
(Saburou?...) he started. (Could this man be...?!)
“You came to find Kagetora, did you not?” the man asked in a low voice. “Then come with me. Saburou Kagetora is with us. Let me invite you into our home. We will speak afterwards.”
“You’re one of the Houjou, aren’t you?”
“Here within the Hakone mountains we are protected by our barrier. You must know that an attack would be useless.”
“You bastard. Are you Houjou Ujiyasu?!”
“He is our father,” the man responded sharply, looking straight at Naoe. “You are Saburou’s guardian, are you not? I will emphasize I extend my invitation to you not because you are one of the Uesugi, much less because you are Saburou’s protector.”
“What...?”
“It is because you are the criminal who is the cause of my younger brother’s suffering.”
“!”
The words stabbed like a blade into his chest.
“Come with me,” Ujiteru said, leading the way. Naoe bit his lip hard, glaring at Ujiteru’s back with stony impenetrable eyes.
(This man is his brother...his blood-kin?)
Was it his intention lo let Naoe see Kagetora? What did he want with Naoe, his enemy? If he would call Naoe a ‘criminal’ to his face, why hadn’t he cut Naoe down where he stood?
(What should I do?)
If he would be allowed to see Kagetora, he would go this instant, trap or no trap. He had no fear of that now. Yet...
Naoe faltered at the thought of seeing him again, at the memories of what had happened in Toyama. The image of Takaya’s eyes surfaced again in his mind, those wounded eyes gazing their reproach in place of lips stunned silent by the violent kiss he had forced upon them...
—I am your dog.
He had not thrust those words at Takaya out of any form of masochism. It was precisely the grain of truth therein that had prompted the outraged, trembling denial from Takaya’s kindness.
I must terrify you, unstained innocent that you are. Stay away. Don’t touch me. Your skin must crawl at the sight of this filthy beast.
Even so...
He had to go. Had to be near him.
However much it makes you fear me, I cannot stop this feeling. Even if you should reject me, scorn me, banish me from your sight in disgust, I must go to you now. I must be at your side.
Even if you were the one who laid this trap for me...
His lips tightened and his face hardened into a defiant mask even as he cast up the words like a prayer: (Because you want me with you...)
Lifting his head resolutely, Naoe focused his gaze on the path and began ascending the stone steps toward the road.
At another wharf some small distance away a white cruiser lay in anchor with several men standing by. The Houjou estate lay on the opposite shore and appeared to be inaccessible except by boat. The men surrounded Naoe and came aboard with him.
It took them around ten minutes to cross the lake and reach a small wharf on the other side. They took the narrow path leading from it.
The estate was located halfway up one of the mountains ringing Lake Ashi. The large, Japanese-style house looked like a vacation home or a high-class inn, and the spaciousness of both buildings and grounds, if privately-owned, pointed to significant family assets. There was certainly precedent in the case of Mogami Yoshiaki. The Houjou onshou had likely chosen to possess those with considerable stature in the political and financial worlds as well.
The tall young man waiting at the front entrance bowed toward him.
“This way.”
He showed Naoe inside with all the courtesy befitting a guest, Ujiteru accompanying them.
“...This estate is guarded by the Fuuma. None of your silly tricks will work here, so I hope you will not try anything,” he said.
Rather belatedly, Naoe started a little at the name ‘Fuuma,’ but having already prepared himself for this scenario, it didn’t shake him. Houjou of Sagami, Fuuma of Hakone.
(So it is as I thought...)
The incident with the Tsutsuga Mirror at Nikkou made three, and a common thread tied all of them together. Tsutsuga Mirror, Fuuma, Houjou. And Kagetora appearing in the mirror...
“Please come in.”
He stood before the innermost room, a large, dim space perhaps a hundred tatami in size. Across the entrance lay a ceremonial rope indicating the sanctity of the area beyond. Directly facing the entrance was a household Shinto shrine of plain wood ornamented with sacred evergreen and the nusagushi wooden ritual wand, and enshrined at its exact center was the object of worship: a mirror-like shape covered with a shroud of purple silk.
A white futon was spread across the center of the room, and a boy—no, older, though not yet adult—a young man, then—lay upon it. He wore a snowy white silk kimono within the white sheets, his body so still he did not even appear to be breathing.
His face was white as paper. Lifeless. He looked, in fact, like a doll: unbreathing, unmoving, expressionless, features slack as in death.
(Takaya-san...)
Naoe stood frozen at the entrance, unable to step inside. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe.
He’s dead.
All vital activity had already ceased. The cold flesh lying there had no body heat, no circulation; its marble cheeks were devoid of all color. It was a corpse lying in its death shroud, and its eyelids, hard as celluloid, would never open again.
(Never...?)
“He has become too weak,” Ujiteru murmured next to him, a hint of regret in his voice.
“...!”
Naoe’s spine went rigid at the words.
“He is like a child abandoned in a strange place. He wanders up and down a dark path, crying, until he is snatched away by a passerby. He cannot help despise the parents who left him there, for to be abandoned is little better than being sold...”
Naoe shook his head, teeth gritted, hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to hear this. He finally took a step forward, gaze fixed on the reality before his eyes, then another and another until he felt the cool air around the still body upon his own skin and sank to his knees next to it.
(Takaya...san...)
Only the dead had skin so pale and eyelids so still; his hair would never feel the caress of the wind again. To touch him would be to shiver with cold...his cheeks, his throat...his flat marble-white chest...
(Could you truly...be...)
Without realizing it, he had gently reached out—to feel that coldness for himself? To somehow coax the warmth back into that still body? To cup those cheeks in his trembling hands once more?
“Do not touch him!” Ujiteru commanded sharply from behind before Naoe could make contact, and he froze in surprise.
“This flesh has undergone ritual purification. It is not dead. It still retains its heat and pulse. It is protected by the divine power of the Hakone Avatar. If you touch it, the pollution from the contact will block the god’s protection from reaching it.”
(He is not dead...?)
Did that mean that he was being kept alive—some semblance of it, at least—by divine intervention?
A body which lost its soul could not live for long. Unless it was sustained, like Shinya, by medical technology, it would last no more than a single day.
Some special spell must have been performed on him to allow the god of Hakone take the place of his life-support system. For this body was just a body now: soulless, empty...
(Where, then, is his soul...?)
He lifted his head. Right before him at the center of the shrine was the sacred mirror in its purple silk shroud. Naoe’s breath caught.
(Could it be—?!)
“I suppose you’ve figured it out.”
“...”
“Saburou Kagetora’s soul has been sealed within the Tsutsuga Mirror there before you. This body is no more than an empty husk, and even a god will not be able to sustain life within the dead forever. It will only be a matter of time before the god leaves him: two or three days, perhaps.”
“!”
“Anything more cannot be guaranteed. This body will die.”
The death of the body: the death of Ougi Takaya. Even if the soul continued to carry his memories, his consciousness, Takaya would be ‘dead.’ Naoe turned a rage-filled glare on Ujiteru. “Bring him back,” he demanded in a low voice that was half growl and half moan.
“...”
“Release his soul from the Tsutsuga Mirror and return it to his body! I won’t allow you to go through with this. I will stop you, whatever it takes!”
“Impossible.”
“It must be possible. Return it right now! Return his soul to this body...!”
“It is impossible,” Ujiteru repeated flatly, coldly. “The release of the entrapped soul requires the male Tsutsuga Mirror. Which is not here. There is no other way. There is no hope for this body.”
“Damn you for a self-serving cold-hearted son of a bitch! Do you actually call yourself his brother?! Do you even care that he’s blood of your blood? How dare you do this to him?!”
“I am elder brother to Saburou Kagetora,” Ujiteru responded with icy calm. “That does not make me brother to this body. All that matters to me is that Saburou’s soul is safe.”
“I’m amazed you can say that with a straight face! He is not just flesh, but seventeen years of a life lived within this body. However short a time that may be, it can never be replaced; those years are fully as important as the four hundred he lived as Uesugi Kagetora! Will you call yourself his brother when you can’t even grasp that much, you bastard?!”
“Curb your insolent tongue, vassal. Do you dare speak thus to he who is elder brother to your lord?”
“I will not allow anyone to trample upon his heart, kin or not. You’re not fit to be called his brother.”
“You certainly talk a good game,” Ujiteru snorted, leaning back against a post. “But it matters not. Flail as you might, you can do nothing as long as the male Tsutsuga Mirror lies beyond your grasp. Now. You are not to set foot outside this estate. You will remain confined here along with this body. This estate lies within a strong barrier which will block any attempt at communication with the outside via a thought-sending. Neither will your «powers» work here.”
“...”
“I summoned you here because Saburou wished to see you. All that remains for you to do is to watch over this body as it dies. Grieve over it as you like, for you alone are responsible for the death of this young man.”
He shook with indignation. What should he do? He could not ever recall feeling such rage. But towards whom was it directed? Towards this man? Or himself?
“Damn you to hell,” he snarled without conscious thought. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you with my own hands!”
“You could. But if you do, you will never know where to find the male Tsutsuga Mirror.”
Naoe choked. Ujiteru glanced at him and smiled.
“Yes. Admit your defeat and do as I say. Bark all you like; as long as you are in this cage, you cannot bite us.”
“...I’ll end you...”
“One day Saburou will return to the Houjou as one of its generals, and he will be given another body. One strong and beautiful enough to be worthy of him, worthy of the ferocious tiger that he is.”
“I will kill you all, you Houjou bastards!” Naoe spat, shaking with rage, but the fierce cry never reached Ujiteru, who had already left the room.
His gaze returned to Takaya. He reached out unthinkingly before recalling that he must not touch him, and helplessly struck the floor with his fists in impotent frustration.
(How did this happen?)
He ground his teeth together so hard that they might well have been in danger of shattering, nails biting into his palms.
(Kagetora-sama!)
Fuuma Kotarou was waiting for him when he left the room.
“Ujiteru-sama. A messenger from Ujimasa-sama has arrived from Nikkou.”
“From my brother? He actually sent a messenger? Huh. He could have just called. Traditionalist as ever.”
“The message appears to be urgent. I left him waiting in another room. This way.”
“Very well. Do not let the Tsutsuga Mirror out of your sight. That man may attempt some trickery,” he said as he proceeded quickly down the long corridor with Kotarou following closely behind.
“Has something roused your anger, Ujiteru-sama?”
“I am not angry.”
“I do not understand your words to him. If it is your intention to give a new body to Saburou-dono, then it would be best to dispose of that empty husk. Why go through the trouble of performing the ‘life-sustaining ritual’ at all?”
“Leave it be!” Kotarou paused at the fierce anger in Ujiteru’s voice. Ujiteru went on for a few more paces before stopping. He turned.
“As long as Saburou refuses to obey us out of his own free will, he must not be set free from the mirror. That is all the more reason why I cannot ignore his wishes. He wanted to see this man called Naoe while he still had breath in his body. Call it the fulfillment of a last wish, if you will. But a ninja such as yourself, who knows neither compassion nor pity, cannot possibly comprehend the kind of affection that exists between brothers.”
Kotarou stood there expressionlessly. Ujiteru turned and quickly headed for the messenger’s room.
The stars were already fading from the sky.
By the time he finally passed the station at Hakone-Yumoto, the outlines of the Hakone mountain ridges were becoming visible against the lightning eastern sky. At this hour traffic was light, and National Highway 1 was pleasantly deserted. Despite the limited visibility caused by a light fog, the Windom shot toward Motohakone on the dawning highway.
Naoe’s gaze was focused straight ahead, and he took no notice of the scenery emerging like an ink painting around him as his foot held the accelerator mindlessly to the floor. Yet the view felt familiar somehow: it was only upon taking the corner at Hakone-Kowakien that he recognized it as the Tokyo-Hakone relay marathon race course broadcast every New Year’s.
(Where are you?)
This was where Kagetora wanted him.
Discerning the meaning behind Kagetora’s visit last night had taken a backseat to his more immediate reactions of disbelief and horror. But even after putting together Maiko and Katakura’s stories, his reason told him that the possibility of those reactions being justified was high.
(Then...that means...he was attacked by a tsutsuga?)
Could it be that like Shinya, he had already been tree-bound?
It was clear from his conversation with Ayako that they had not heard from Takaya since his disappearance from Toshimaen Amusement Park that afternoon two days ago. He had called Takaya’s house late last night, but as expected, Takaya had not returned. Takaya’s own message gave them the only other reliable information they had.
(O-DA-WA-RA—...)
Takaya had sent him several images—images of places. One had been of a castle Naoe recognized. He was certain that it had been Odawara.
Another had been the image of a lake: a large, dark, uniquely-shaped lake ringed by thickly-forested mountains. A caldera lake?—with what looked like vermilion Shinto shrine gates rising from it.
Perhaps it was the view Kagetora looked out upon from wherever he was now. Or—no. He shouldn’t make that assumption. It was also possible that Kagetora was relaying those images from someone else’s mind.
(I would not put it past him...)
At least, past a Kagetora who had regained full use of his «powers». In any case—
(Odawara...?)
That one word held a world of significance. His sense of foreboding certainly seemed to have been justified. Ever since learning of Houjou’s involvement during the ‘Tsutsuga Mirror’ incident in Nikkou, that foreboding had coiled around him like black smoke. That was what had caused cold sweat to slide down his back upon Kagetora’s appearance in the mirror.
The Fuuma Clan, the Tsutsuga Mirrors, the tree-bound Shinya, ‘Odawara’, and— the missing Kagetora appearing in the mirror...
When he connected the dots, it was easy to come up with a theory about what had befallen Kagetora.
(The Houjou Clan—) he muttered darkly to himself. He emerged from the curve, scowling at the widening vista ahead. Past the next corner, a beautiful lake came into view, glittering in the morning light: Lake Ashi.
The shrine’s parking lot was locked, barring entrance. Naoe was forced to stop the Windom at the bottom of the shrine path. It was surprisingly difficult to drive with his shoulder wound, and his entire body felt peculiarly heavy—though perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised about that, since no doctor would have allowed him to move around with his injuries. He had force-injected himself with a shot of painkillers, shaken off Maiko’s protests, and driven all night like a madman from Nikkou. All composure had flown out the window for the normally unflappable Naoe. Though he might have arrived at a state of mind ‘free from obstructive thoughts,’ he was running on fumes after a night of almost uninterrupted driving, and the exhaustion abruptly dragged him down like dead weight as soon as he got out of the car. His shoulder oozed pain.
(Should I take a look?)
This was no time to be worrying his own injuries.
The place Naoe had come to was Hakone Shrine, located on the banks of Lake Ashi in Motohakone. Also called the Hakone Avatar, this richly historic shrine had once been held in deep reverence by such luminaries as Minamoto no Yoritomo, Houjou Souun, and even Tokugawa Ieyasu, and under their patronage became the shrine of the tutelary god of the entireKantou. The famous annual Festival of the Lake Waters was a signature event of the Hakone Lake Ashi summer.
At this early hour, only the chirping of birds disturbed the silence of the grounds.
(Here?)
The image Kagetora had sent him via the mirror. His message of ‘Odawara’ was the basis of Naoe’s belief that the Shinto shrine gates rising from the lake belonged to Hakone Shrine. He had visited it many times in the past, and it was located very near Odawara. Hakone lay at the center of Houjou’s sphere of influence; more than that, it was the territorial base of the Fuuma Clan. If he truly had been waylaid by the Houjou, there was a high probability that this was their base of operations. One might call these precipitous heights a perfect hiding place.
The Houjou... Kagetora’s great-uncle, Houjou Gen‘an, had once been the head of Hakone Shrine. Gen’an, son of Houjou Souun, had later returned to secular life as the Houjou family elder and was known as the greatest man of culture of the Kantou. For a while he had adopted Kagetora as his son and heir, but after Kagetora’s adoption by Uesugi and the dissolution of that previous relationship, Gen’an’s grandson Ujitaka had become his successor. In the old days, Kagetora had often mentioned these events, and from the way he spoke of Gen’an, it was plain that he had greatly loved and honored him. But he hardly ever touched on the thereafter. If he had never been adopted by Uesugi, he would have succeeded Gen’an as his heir and become the master of Kodukue Castle and a pillar of the clan. His life would have been entirely different. But Kagetora, too, must know the futility of looking at the past with a chorus of ’if onlys’ on his lips.
Still, those reminiscences meant that Naoe was well-informed indeed where the Houjou was concerned.
But if this was the Houjou’s base...then he stood right in the middle of the enemy camp. Did they know that Kagetora had sent him a message asking for help? And if so, had they allowed the message to reach him? It was conceivable that they had deliberately turned a blind eye to Kagetora’s SOS in order to lure him in—which meant they had laid a trap for him?
(Not that it matters now...)
He fixed a hard stare on the high tips of a cedar tree.
(What next?)
He had to locate Kagetora immediately. Had he really been devoured by the tsutsuga? Had he been tree-bound? Yet the trail ended here. If that image had been from Kagetora’s vantage point, he was wasting his time here.
He had come to this place despite that knowledge for one reason: for a little while now he had felt someone calling to him. Reaching ceaselessly out to him.
What was it? It prickled at his sixth sense—a type of thought-wave, perhaps. ‘Come,’ it told him. It was not his imagination; it had stopped just as he’d arrived at Hakone Shrine, though it had been his constant companion ever since he’d entered the Hakone mountains. He didn’t know who was summoning him, only that it was not Kagetora.
(A trap it must be, then...?)
He held his breath, seeking an enemy he could not see.
(Who is behind this?)
Nothing moved. Hoping to draw his enemy out into the open, Naoe walked toward the lake.
He descended the flight of stone steps within the forest, then went toward the great shrine gates rising out of the lake until he emerged onto the stone-paved wharf from which the head priest’s boat set out during ceremonial rites.
The surface of the lake was quiet, smooth. His reflection looked back at him from beneath his feet. Then it blurred, and it was Kagetora looking back at him.
(If I had been with him...)
None of this should have happened. Naoe had castigated himself over and over again as the miles passed. What had he been doing? What in the world had he been doing away from Kagetora instead of at his side protecting him? The mistake was his, and ‘mistake’ didn’t even begin to describe the magnitude of it. His own puerility had led to this. What was he doing here if not protecting Kagetora? Did he think he was the victim, the tragic hero of some gods-forsaken soap opera? Was he waiting for someone to show him sympathy? So what if he lived in pain? So what if his life was mired in anguish? His lord was in danger—plunged into mortal peril—and it was his fault. His fault alone. How could he have deserted him...?!
(Kagetora-sama...!)
Suddenly blazing with impatience, Naoe sent a thought-wave out toward the lake. Perhaps it would reach him. Perhaps he would respond.
(Where are you?!)
The lake gave no reply. The dread driving him to the point of self-flagellation was unbearable. If only he at least knew what had happened to him...
“...!”
Naoe whirled as he felt a presence approaching from behind. A man was descending the shrine’s stone steps. Glaring at him, Naoe shifted conspicuously into fighting stance, prepared for an instant attack.
The man stopped in the middle of the stairs, his calm gaze fixed on Naoe. As if he had been waiting for him.
“So you’ve come after all.”
“Who are you?”
“...”
The man was of average height. Though his face was young, his eyes were strangely serene. Imperturbable.
(Was it him...?)
The one who had called him here?
His ‘energy’ felt very similar to the thought-wave that had summoned him.
(Who is he?)
Naoe could not tell his intentions. For a long moment he simply stood there, silent, but Naoe refused to drop his guard for an instant. As if taking pity on him, the man finally spoke.
“I wanted to meet you, to see what kind of a man you are for myself...”
“What?”
“To decide if I should kill you. Or not.”
Naoe’s eyebrows lifted sharply.
“...Yet I find myself irresolute, even at this very moment. I believed that it would be better for Saburou if you were to die.”
(Saburou?...) he started. (Could this man be...?!)
“You came to find Kagetora, did you not?” the man asked in a low voice. “Then come with me. Saburou Kagetora is with us. Let me invite you into our home. We will speak afterwards.”
“You’re one of the Houjou, aren’t you?”
“Here within the Hakone mountains we are protected by our barrier. You must know that an attack would be useless.”
“You bastard. Are you Houjou Ujiyasu?!”
“He is our father,” the man responded sharply, looking straight at Naoe. “You are Saburou’s guardian, are you not? I will emphasize I extend my invitation to you not because you are one of the Uesugi, much less because you are Saburou’s protector.”
“What...?”
“It is because you are the criminal who is the cause of my younger brother’s suffering.”
“!”
The words stabbed like a blade into his chest.
“Come with me,” Ujiteru said, leading the way. Naoe bit his lip hard, glaring at Ujiteru’s back with stony impenetrable eyes.
(This man is his brother...his blood-kin?)
Was it his intention lo let Naoe see Kagetora? What did he want with Naoe, his enemy? If he would call Naoe a ‘criminal’ to his face, why hadn’t he cut Naoe down where he stood?
(What should I do?)
If he would be allowed to see Kagetora, he would go this instant, trap or no trap. He had no fear of that now. Yet...
Naoe faltered at the thought of seeing him again, at the memories of what had happened in Toyama. The image of Takaya’s eyes surfaced again in his mind, those wounded eyes gazing their reproach in place of lips stunned silent by the violent kiss he had forced upon them...
—I am your dog.
He had not thrust those words at Takaya out of any form of masochism. It was precisely the grain of truth therein that had prompted the outraged, trembling denial from Takaya’s kindness.
I must terrify you, unstained innocent that you are. Stay away. Don’t touch me. Your skin must crawl at the sight of this filthy beast.
Even so...
He had to go. Had to be near him.
However much it makes you fear me, I cannot stop this feeling. Even if you should reject me, scorn me, banish me from your sight in disgust, I must go to you now. I must be at your side.
Even if you were the one who laid this trap for me...
His lips tightened and his face hardened into a defiant mask even as he cast up the words like a prayer: (Because you want me with you...)
Lifting his head resolutely, Naoe focused his gaze on the path and began ascending the stone steps toward the road.
At another wharf some small distance away a white cruiser lay in anchor with several men standing by. The Houjou estate lay on the opposite shore and appeared to be inaccessible except by boat. The men surrounded Naoe and came aboard with him.
It took them around ten minutes to cross the lake and reach a small wharf on the other side. They took the narrow path leading from it.
The estate was located halfway up one of the mountains ringing Lake Ashi. The large, Japanese-style house looked like a vacation home or a high-class inn, and the spaciousness of both buildings and grounds, if privately-owned, pointed to significant family assets. There was certainly precedent in the case of Mogami Yoshiaki. The Houjou onshou had likely chosen to possess those with considerable stature in the political and financial worlds as well.
The tall young man waiting at the front entrance bowed toward him.
“This way.”
He showed Naoe inside with all the courtesy befitting a guest, Ujiteru accompanying them.
“...This estate is guarded by the Fuuma. None of your silly tricks will work here, so I hope you will not try anything,” he said.
Rather belatedly, Naoe started a little at the name ‘Fuuma,’ but having already prepared himself for this scenario, it didn’t shake him. Houjou of Sagami, Fuuma of Hakone.
(So it is as I thought...)
The incident with the Tsutsuga Mirror at Nikkou made three, and a common thread tied all of them together. Tsutsuga Mirror, Fuuma, Houjou. And Kagetora appearing in the mirror...
“Please come in.”
He stood before the innermost room, a large, dim space perhaps a hundred tatami in size. Across the entrance lay a ceremonial rope indicating the sanctity of the area beyond. Directly facing the entrance was a household Shinto shrine of plain wood ornamented with sacred evergreen and the nusagushi wooden ritual wand, and enshrined at its exact center was the object of worship: a mirror-like shape covered with a shroud of purple silk.
A white futon was spread across the center of the room, and a boy—no, older, though not yet adult—a young man, then—lay upon it. He wore a snowy white silk kimono within the white sheets, his body so still he did not even appear to be breathing.
His face was white as paper. Lifeless. He looked, in fact, like a doll: unbreathing, unmoving, expressionless, features slack as in death.
(Takaya-san...)
Naoe stood frozen at the entrance, unable to step inside. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe.
He’s dead.
All vital activity had already ceased. The cold flesh lying there had no body heat, no circulation; its marble cheeks were devoid of all color. It was a corpse lying in its death shroud, and its eyelids, hard as celluloid, would never open again.
(Never...?)
“He has become too weak,” Ujiteru murmured next to him, a hint of regret in his voice.
“...!”
Naoe’s spine went rigid at the words.
“He is like a child abandoned in a strange place. He wanders up and down a dark path, crying, until he is snatched away by a passerby. He cannot help despise the parents who left him there, for to be abandoned is little better than being sold...”
Naoe shook his head, teeth gritted, hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to hear this. He finally took a step forward, gaze fixed on the reality before his eyes, then another and another until he felt the cool air around the still body upon his own skin and sank to his knees next to it.
(Takaya...san...)
Only the dead had skin so pale and eyelids so still; his hair would never feel the caress of the wind again. To touch him would be to shiver with cold...his cheeks, his throat...his flat marble-white chest...
(Could you truly...be...)
Without realizing it, he had gently reached out—to feel that coldness for himself? To somehow coax the warmth back into that still body? To cup those cheeks in his trembling hands once more?
“Do not touch him!” Ujiteru commanded sharply from behind before Naoe could make contact, and he froze in surprise.
“This flesh has undergone ritual purification. It is not dead. It still retains its heat and pulse. It is protected by the divine power of the Hakone Avatar. If you touch it, the pollution from the contact will block the god’s protection from reaching it.”
(He is not dead...?)
Did that mean that he was being kept alive—some semblance of it, at least—by divine intervention?
A body which lost its soul could not live for long. Unless it was sustained, like Shinya, by medical technology, it would last no more than a single day.
Some special spell must have been performed on him to allow the god of Hakone take the place of his life-support system. For this body was just a body now: soulless, empty...
(Where, then, is his soul...?)
He lifted his head. Right before him at the center of the shrine was the sacred mirror in its purple silk shroud. Naoe’s breath caught.
(Could it be—?!)
“I suppose you’ve figured it out.”
“...”
“Saburou Kagetora’s soul has been sealed within the Tsutsuga Mirror there before you. This body is no more than an empty husk, and even a god will not be able to sustain life within the dead forever. It will only be a matter of time before the god leaves him: two or three days, perhaps.”
“!”
“Anything more cannot be guaranteed. This body will die.”
The death of the body: the death of Ougi Takaya. Even if the soul continued to carry his memories, his consciousness, Takaya would be ‘dead.’ Naoe turned a rage-filled glare on Ujiteru. “Bring him back,” he demanded in a low voice that was half growl and half moan.
“...”
“Release his soul from the Tsutsuga Mirror and return it to his body! I won’t allow you to go through with this. I will stop you, whatever it takes!”
“Impossible.”
“It must be possible. Return it right now! Return his soul to this body...!”
“It is impossible,” Ujiteru repeated flatly, coldly. “The release of the entrapped soul requires the male Tsutsuga Mirror. Which is not here. There is no other way. There is no hope for this body.”
“Damn you for a self-serving cold-hearted son of a bitch! Do you actually call yourself his brother?! Do you even care that he’s blood of your blood? How dare you do this to him?!”
“I am elder brother to Saburou Kagetora,” Ujiteru responded with icy calm. “That does not make me brother to this body. All that matters to me is that Saburou’s soul is safe.”
“I’m amazed you can say that with a straight face! He is not just flesh, but seventeen years of a life lived within this body. However short a time that may be, it can never be replaced; those years are fully as important as the four hundred he lived as Uesugi Kagetora! Will you call yourself his brother when you can’t even grasp that much, you bastard?!”
“Curb your insolent tongue, vassal. Do you dare speak thus to he who is elder brother to your lord?”
“I will not allow anyone to trample upon his heart, kin or not. You’re not fit to be called his brother.”
“You certainly talk a good game,” Ujiteru snorted, leaning back against a post. “But it matters not. Flail as you might, you can do nothing as long as the male Tsutsuga Mirror lies beyond your grasp. Now. You are not to set foot outside this estate. You will remain confined here along with this body. This estate lies within a strong barrier which will block any attempt at communication with the outside via a thought-sending. Neither will your «powers» work here.”
“...”
“I summoned you here because Saburou wished to see you. All that remains for you to do is to watch over this body as it dies. Grieve over it as you like, for you alone are responsible for the death of this young man.”
He shook with indignation. What should he do? He could not ever recall feeling such rage. But towards whom was it directed? Towards this man? Or himself?
“Damn you to hell,” he snarled without conscious thought. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you with my own hands!”
“You could. But if you do, you will never know where to find the male Tsutsuga Mirror.”
Naoe choked. Ujiteru glanced at him and smiled.
“Yes. Admit your defeat and do as I say. Bark all you like; as long as you are in this cage, you cannot bite us.”
“...I’ll end you...”
“One day Saburou will return to the Houjou as one of its generals, and he will be given another body. One strong and beautiful enough to be worthy of him, worthy of the ferocious tiger that he is.”
“I will kill you all, you Houjou bastards!” Naoe spat, shaking with rage, but the fierce cry never reached Ujiteru, who had already left the room.
His gaze returned to Takaya. He reached out unthinkingly before recalling that he must not touch him, and helplessly struck the floor with his fists in impotent frustration.
(How did this happen?)
He ground his teeth together so hard that they might well have been in danger of shattering, nails biting into his palms.
(Kagetora-sama!)
Fuuma Kotarou was waiting for him when he left the room.
“Ujiteru-sama. A messenger from Ujimasa-sama has arrived from Nikkou.”
“From my brother? He actually sent a messenger? Huh. He could have just called. Traditionalist as ever.”
“The message appears to be urgent. I left him waiting in another room. This way.”
“Very well. Do not let the Tsutsuga Mirror out of your sight. That man may attempt some trickery,” he said as he proceeded quickly down the long corridor with Kotarou following closely behind.
“Has something roused your anger, Ujiteru-sama?”
“I am not angry.”
“I do not understand your words to him. If it is your intention to give a new body to Saburou-dono, then it would be best to dispose of that empty husk. Why go through the trouble of performing the ‘life-sustaining ritual’ at all?”
“Leave it be!” Kotarou paused at the fierce anger in Ujiteru’s voice. Ujiteru went on for a few more paces before stopping. He turned.
“As long as Saburou refuses to obey us out of his own free will, he must not be set free from the mirror. That is all the more reason why I cannot ignore his wishes. He wanted to see this man called Naoe while he still had breath in his body. Call it the fulfillment of a last wish, if you will. But a ninja such as yourself, who knows neither compassion nor pity, cannot possibly comprehend the kind of affection that exists between brothers.”
Kotarou stood there expressionlessly. Ujiteru turned and quickly headed for the messenger’s room.
