The Tangled Web
Chapter Five
By Bottou-chan
A/N: In honor of Chris' birthday, which was the 16th. :o)
The nonchalant questioning of Kashemaru had turned up about
the same story that Aki had given. He was a lot more straightforward and
to-the-point, and a lot less starry-eyed, but the details were the same.
It seemed that there were a good number in this household
who were watching the romance with great interest.
There was little turned up in the search, however. While
well-furnished and with scenic views, there was nothing in the way of evidence.
There wasn't even anything in the way of suspicious… Kashemaru showed no
signs of reluctance to open any door; he didn't tense up when the policemen
peeked under rugs and looked behind furniture; and when they poked through
closets and inspected clothes for telltale bloodstains, he only mildly commented
that there would be a lot of ironing to do after the officers had finished.
They were quite disappointed.
A thought struck Officer Makiyama, however, just as they
had about given up hope. "The nice young lady at the door had mentioned you
had an excess number of Odokemono Hiroji's here," he remarked. "It sounds
quite interesting. Could you explain?"
At that, Kashemaru exhibited all the classic signs of
guilt. Shifty eyes… nervous laugh… wringing of hands… licking of lips…
fidgeting. He demurred.
Obviously, he had no excuse, and Officer Kawazu wasn't
about to be gentle.
"Tell us!" he said boomingly. Kashemaru was just a
little guy; he was easy to overpower and intimidate.
Kashemaru was cowed. "It's hard to explain, and even
harder to understand," he whimpered.
"Try us," said Officer Makiyama dryly.
Kashemaru gave up. "Fine," he grumbled. They retraced
their steps to the second floor, and Kashemaru indicated a door in plain view.
Surely that door couldn't have been hidden before. But
the two men were equally positive they hadn't seen it before, and therefore,
they hadn't passed through it before.
"You must promise to be very quiet," Kashemaru
whispered. He cracked open the door, and the three slipped inside.
Inside, it took a while for their eyes to adjust to the
dimness. The walls were draped in dark-colored fabric. The ceiling shone with
intricate, iridescent patterns (easily created by spritzing Clorox on the
surface, and then shining a black light on it). Votive candles flickered in
their holders, set on small stands. At the end of the corridor was a beaded
curtain, through which light shone.
Kashemaru and his two guests stood silently behind the
curtain.
In the room, a circle of ten or fifteen people sat, wearing
dark green robes with scarlet sashes. A blue fire burned in a brazier at the
circle's center. They were seated on plump cushions, their heads bowed, and
chanting softly.
Another odd thing was, every single one of them wore their
hair in rasta braids.
A rasta-braided Mikoto stood up. She had a bowl of wine in
her hands, and she raised it upwards. "I am Odokemono Hiroji; may the spirit
of Odokemono Hiroji live within me. Odokemono Hiroji is dead. I am Odokemono
Hiroji," she intoned. Then she downed the bowlful in one draught and sat back
down again.
A rasta-braided Raiha stood up. He, too, had a bowl of wine
in his hands, and raised it upwards. "I am Odokemono Hiroji; may the spirit of
Odokemono Hiroji live within me. Odokemono Hiroji is dead. I am Odokemono Hiroji,"
he said solemnly. Then he drank his wine and resumed his seated position.
A rasta-braided Genjuro stood up. He raised his bowlful of
wine upwards and chanted the same words. "I am Odokemono Hiroji; may the
spirit of Odokemono Hiroji live within me. Odokemono Hiroji is dead. I am
Odokemono Hiroji." He took his time about drinking his own wine, but
eventually sat back down again.
They watched in silence for a few moments as each member in
the circle took turns rising and reciting the ritual. Miki…Tsukeshiro…
Mokuren… Magensha… Neon… Kirin… Joker… and others. Everyone who had
enough hair to even barely rasta-braid had done so, except for the notable
absence of Noroi and Rassen. (It had taken quite a while to rescue Kai's hair
from its former dreadlocks, and hadn't happened without quite a number of
threats and expletives, but the task had finally been accomplished.)
After the last had recited the formula, they lapsed once
more into a wordless, sonorous chanting.
Kashemaru and the officers withdrew.
"What kind of cult do you guys have going on?" demanded
Officer Kawazu suspiciously.
Kashemaru shook his head. "That's just it," he
explained patiently, in an I-knew-you-wouldn't-understand tone. "We gather
in remembrance of the Odokemono Hiroji." He spoke the words with great
reverence. "He was an elderly man, yet still managed to be wise beyond his
years. He was a great advisor to both Mori Kouran and Mori Kurei. He was a great
mystic, and well-versed in the arts of meditation and divination. It was working
on his advice that Mori Kouran managed to ascend to the pinnacle where he is
today." Kashemaru spread his hands widely. "But about five years ago, while
in the mountains, Hiroji was killed while protecting his masters' interests.
Since then, his spirit has come to return to us, once a week, every Wednesday…
Wednesday being the day of his death. He infuses them with his spirit, and lives
on through him."
Kashemaru looked quite envious. "Of course, that only
works with the chosen ones," he added. "But sometimes, Chosen Ones
refer to each other as Odokemono Hiroji… they forget, sometimes, because the
spirit of Hiroji has been so closely melded into their own souls, they see him
instead of who's really there."
