Hi there, Mononoke fans! You may have followed me across from my current Mononoke fic-in-progress, 'Jubokko'. If you have, don't despair, I will finish that story; I cannot promise soon - by now, you know that my updates tend to be sporadic at best - but eventually, I will. Promise. In the meantime, I had the idea for this story, so please let it tide you over for a while.

And to Onmyoji fans, hello, nice to meet you. I've never written an Onmyoji fic before, but I watched the films recently (I saw some scans of the manga too, though I couldn't read the Japanese), and I had the idea to cross it over with my favourite anime. It seemed like the perfect match; both works feature yokai, exorcisms, and enigmatic leading-men. I'm not sure which fandom will dominate - I think Onmyoji might lead a little, but I have a soft spot for the medicine seller, so it should even out 50-50.

Same rule applies as with Jubokko - if you look up the title of the story, you will know what the mononoke is and spoil the surprise. Google at your own risk!

I'll leave this little prologue here. I have the next chapter almost ready to go, so if you like this beginning, express your interest in a review - I always like to get feedback - and I'll try to post it up soon.

Enjoy!

~ W.J.


Shamichoro

Prologue

'Wind-tossed pine needles
sing their soft, whispery song
of evergreen youth'


Mountain air.

Summer grass.

Scent of sweet pine.

Birdsong overhead.

Warm earth.

Dappled sunlight.

Damp forest musk.

Rustling in the undergrowth.

The sound of walking… and the sound of running…

The steady thump of geta upon the packed earth of a mountain trail.

A swish of bending foliage; straw sandals dashing nimbly over loose pine needles.

A dark streak upon the hillside; the tail of some animal, perhaps…

… no, the ponytail of a young boy, flowing like a streamer behind him as he flies down the hill.

Despite the assuredness of his tread, he does not look like a mere peasant urchin. His face is clean, his eyes are bright, and the generous sleeves of his child-sized hitatare flutter at his sides like outstretched wings. With his short legs hidden by tall clumps of wildflowers, it seems as though his feet are barely touching the ground. He comes soaring down from the hill's summit; a little white sparrow amidst the verdant greenery.

"Sir!" he calls, his small, piping voice dwarfed by the enormity of the stillness that hangs over the distant mountain peak. "Sir, please wait!" he calls to the receding figure. He scrambles down the grassy slope, joining the ragged track which already contains one other traveller.

The figure who strides ahead, each step confident despite the tall geta on his feet which should falter upon the uneven ground, comes to a standstill at the sound. He half-turns, watching the boy approach with amusement and interest dancing in his eyes. His eyes are a cool, clear shade of blue; yet there is something dazzling, almost fiery, about them. They glint in the sunlight, like two bits of warm summer sky.

The boy nears him; he checks his pace, continues his approach, though now he is a little wary. Still, his manner is polite, his voice sincere, and his gesture earnest, as he holds out a neatly-tied package, no bigger than his own small hand, towards the stranger.

"Sir, you dropped this…"

The traveller carries a heavy pack upon his back; this one small item was apparently dropped, unseen, behind him as he traversed the mountainside.

Bemused, perhaps touched by such honesty in one so young, the traveller smiles. The boy, surprised by this sudden change in the mask-like face, starts a little, but is heartened by the friendliness of the smile.

"You keep it, young master," the traveller says, in a low, mysterious voice; a voice which would well suit the soft wind that murmurs cryptically in the pine-branches above. "Hang onto it. It may become useful… sometime soon…"

"Doji!"

Another voice rings out, coming from above; against the serenity of the rural vista, it is as sudden and as harsh as a hawk's cry. The boy, his hand still holding the parcel outstretched, turns obediently at the summons.

Another adult now comes tearing down the slope in fitful bounds, moving with an urgency which the boy cannot fathom. He imposes himself between the traveller and the child. He holds his right hand before him like a guard, or perhaps like a weapon; two of his fingers are stretched upright and point towards his lips, as though to amplify some curse he is about to mutter in the traveller's direction. He regards the other with a hostile glare.

The traveller, for his part, takes no offence; he gives a low chuckle which sounds like the rasp of branches caught in a gale. Leaving only another canny smile in his wake as a parting gift, he turns and continues on his way, geta resounding gently with each step.

The boy feels the tension dissipate from his companion; only then does he dare to speak.

"Tadayuki, what is wrong?"

"Doji," the other says, sternly, "you should not speak to such beings."

"Why?" the boy asks, chastened and confused. "What was wrong with him? He is just a travelling mer-"

"You are too young yet to see things for what they really are," his guardian interrupts; his voice is sharp, though he does not seem to be angry.

Only strained. Anxious. Afraid.

"Doji," he says again, forcing his own jangling nerves to calm. The stranger is dwindling into the distance; by now, he is little more than a dark smudge against the brilliant glare of the summer sun. With each new step he puts between them, he poses less and less of a threat. With this worry taken care of, the man now realizes that he has only succeeded in scaring and bewildering the boy. He rests a hand on the boy's shoulder, gently but firmly, speaking directly down into the upturned face.

"Please, stay away from such people, Doji. They are not to be trusted. I am your teacher. Someday, you shall know all these things for yourself; for now, please trust my judgement. It will keep you safe. It may seem unfair to you now, but I know what I am dealing with, whereas currently you do not. Promise me that you will heed my words unquestioningly in future. Promise."

The boy regards him for a moment. A less-astute child than he may have laughed at the excessive gravity in his teacher's manner, which seems so comically disproportionate to the banality of the situation. However, he does not. Instead, he gives a slight, solemn nod. It is a staid, serious little gesture, better suited to a man well beyond his years.

However, he takes the tiny bundle, and quietly tucks it inside his robe, for safekeeping.


Edit: Added the haiku at the beginning. All the haiku I will feature in this story are my own.

Also, hitatare is a type of costume - a wide-sleeved kimono, usually worn with hakama, sometimes also known as a 'hunting costume'. It was commonly worn during the Heian era; it began as working clothes for commoners, but was adopted as everyday-wear by the nobility because it was comfortable and easier to move in than elaborate court dress. And if you are Mononoke fans, I shouldn't have to explain to you what geta are ; )