Chapter 5: No heroes
The air on that day of mourning was thick with incense burning from every window in the holy city. Tenpou was beyond sight. Was beyond hearing, and the inhabitants of Heaven lit their matches for the marshal with hopes that his disembodied and blind soul would carry with him the scent of heaven, momentarily, until becoming diluted to the point of non-existence by the engulfing squall of reincarnation. Until the soul would remember it no more.
The path back to the gates of the holy city was as thin and beguiling as a whisper of smoke, but if he doesn't come back, I'll kill him.
After hours of holding himself prisoner within his own room, Konzen had crept out and snuck into Tenpou's, flinging himself on the bed and falling asleep at the same spot where soldiers found Tenpou's body.
Come back so I can kill you, bastard.
Elsewhere, there was one window where no incense burned.
"It's preposterous, the honors that boy gets," grit Commander Takemura of the Northern Armies between clenched teeth as he walked out of his living quarters and into the gardens. With narrow, dark eyes, a build better suited for a bear and a face to match, Takemura had the air of a man who was born to hate. And hate he did.
He despised all of Heaven's absurdities. Tenpou Gensui was a genuine mental absurdity, and it was just as well that he had breathed his last. But the marshal was merely coincidental. One man in a million. The itan, however, was a different matter altogether. They were true, consistent, absurdities and it escaped him how children of diluted blood could grow to be more powerful than the genuine article, a real celestial.
The thought unnerved him. It was a nightmare really, of Heaven's apocalypse. That the itan, physically superior regardless of mortality, would take the place the immortals and the land he now tread would become a disgusting replica of Under Heaven. He wouldn't have it. Heaven did not need a Toushin Taishi. Heaven and the lands below needed no itan.
Speaking of other absurdities…Commander Takemura thought it might be a good idea to pay a visit to the body. It was in Goujun's care, was it not?
Little did he expect the dragon king to outright reject his humble request to pay his respects. Little did he expect Goujun to shed his shell of formality simply to be rude.
"It will not kill you to wait until the funeral, will it? Find an ugly woman to amuse you until then." And he was quickly met with a door slammed in his face.
"Blubbering fool," muttered Goujun, turning from the door and moving to stand quietly over Tenpou's body. It was laid out on a platform in Goujun's own quarters where he would hold an overnight vigil until the funeral.
Keep close watch over him, Goujun-sama, said the fiery-haired soldier who brought the body. Or else they might cremate him behind your back.
Something about those words settled over him like snow between his scales, and the longer he thought about them, the colder he felt. And that smile on the soldier's lips; the instant he saw it, Goujun sent out all the servants who were summoned to perform the funeral cleansing rites. I will have no one else touch him. So then he, Commander of the Western Army and Dragon King of the Western Sea, committed himself to an orderly's tasks of bathing and dressing his dead subordinate.
Goujun did so with a mechanical continuity fitting for a soldier and a creature of his breed, but a there was a single thought that corroded the gears of his mind and drove him to rush through the rites before he lost himself.
The setting sun reached the space of the window just as he was tying the last knots of Tenpou's outer funeral robe. He blinked. Light filtered through the sheer curtains and painted Tenpou's skin the color of blood. It was enough. And in his grief, Goujun bent down to kiss the skin of the exposed chest, and rested his forehead there. It was a farewell he could dispense only to one of his own kind, but to deny this to his marshal felt like one sin too many.
Goujun sensed the heat of his own exhalation return to his mouth. He closed his eyes, whispered a short prayer, and pressed his lips to Tenpou's chest once more. Only he did not expect to feel a heartbeat. But it was there, steady and getting stronger. Color was returning to his lips and face.
He snapped back. "What in the world…"
Nothing made any sense anymore. The sun was setting and it was getting dark. Time moved forward for the rest of Heaven, but here in this room it had reversed completely. As if everything that Tenpou touched changed in nature. A mad wind disturbed the curtains and flung open the shutters, causing the papers on his desk to chaotically fly about the room like frantic doves.
To die without achieving your goals is a dog's death, but there is no shame in it.
The dead man's chest started to rise. Started to fall.
But you are too stubborn to accept even that. That is why I will allow no one else to be my marshal.
Gently, Goujun moved Tenpou from the funeral platform to the bed in his sleeping chambers. "Wake up quickly, Tenpou Gensui. Your men are waiting for you."
That night, Takemura stalked into one courtyard after another in pursuit of his thoughts. His brief encounter with Goujun rattled his nerves. Such a bloody stare would be enough to yank a normal man's soul from his body. It was disgusting and he cursed himself for not planning Goujun's death as well. Make it look like a lover's suicide, maybe? Both were brought to grief at the impossibility of romantic relations between superior and subordinate…it might be feasible, though a bit too far fetched. There would be those who would argue against it, nevertheless- Takemura's stride and thoughts halted. A light still shone from the dead marshal's quarters.
He backtracked and looked inside, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he scanned the room, only to find a certain blonde noble clinging to the sheets like a grieving wife. Womanish and beautiful. And graceful and every inch a celestial- the way a perfect heaven should be. Except…Takemura amended…except for Konzen's desire to be taken by a man who threatened his very existence; a very absurd, erratic, and very dead man.
But that could be changed. It was a wrong that Takemura himself would now amend, just as he strove to amend the little absurdities that plagued the world every now and then. It almost felt heroic.
Not far behind him, Zenon looked on for a while longer before turning on his heel and heading towards Goujun's room. "The bastard better be awake."
"How did you know not to drink the wine?" Shien had asked when the two of them found Tenpou back in his room the night before. The marshal was alive. Gargling water, but very much alive.
"I didn't. When I realized it was Under Heaven tavern wine, I spat it out. The stuff tastes like poison."
"It's an acquired taste." he and Zenon replied simultaneously.
"Hm." Tenpou smiled sadly and sunk to his knees. "I don't think I'll live long enough to get used to it. Some of it went down my throat. I think. I can feel its effects now…but maybe I didn't drink enough to kill me. That's what I'm hoping."
"Then keep hoping," Zenon said as he helped Tenpou onto the bed. "If you want to live, then you'll live. If you want to die, then you'll die…Shien, where are you going?"
"There is something I wish to attend to. Take care of yourself, Tenpou. Please accept my apologies for being…an unnecessary burden on you. I will return shortly, perhaps. If it is within my power to do so, I will return to your service."
"If you want to return, you will. If I want to live, I will," the Marshal said between coughs. "Let's hope the two of us make the right decisions."
The cold air blown from the mountaintops froze the backs of Heaven's Western Army and their new marshal. Not long after Tenpou's body was discovered were they called down to the Under Heaven to suppress a massive youkai onslaught. Despite discouraged men, despite the fact that they were given less than a day of mourning, despite the unanimous, unspoken dislike for the former general, five regiments of Tenpou's men hauled their weapons down to earth in order to fight off their grief.
But they couldn't even get that done.
"They aren't attacking…Marshal," reluctantly commented a soldier as he surveyed the low dip of foothills where a swarm of youkai seemed to hover back and forth. Back and forth like tree branches in a black wind.
Uraga spat. "I can see that." And he knew very well why they weren't attacking. "Give me an assessment of the damage."
"They've raided a village at the base of Mt. Reishin. But we haven't been able to get close enough to make a body count."
"Do you have any idea as to the breed?"
"None sir, but we're checking the books. Youkai of this nature haven't been around for over four hundred years…"
"I see." Not too far in the distance, just close enough so he could see the gory details of mortality, was a human head, courtesy of the youkai who were looking to make a point. This will be you. Soon. Kami. Uraga shuddered. "Just don't give up your sword for the books. Look where that philosophy carried the last marshal."
"Yes sir." But Uraga could hear the lack of confidence in the young man's voice.
However eccentric Tenpou was, he certainly commanded the respect of his men. Their hearts have darkened considerably, but it didn't matter anymore. They would learn to serve a new master. Such was the way of the military: efficient, strong, and immortal. Where one head got severed, another would grow. Yes, Tenpou was replaceable.
"Kami!" hissed a voice from the clan of youkai, low and piercing. Hundreds of hungry eyes looked up at them and this voice seemed to speak what those eyes were saying. "Let me speak to the kami! Damn you come out, you coward of a god! We did as you asked! You who woke us from our five hundred year sleep. We killed those you wanted us to kill. In return for our castle- which you kami took from us five hundred years ago-we agreed to your terms, now you agree to ours. Give us back our castle!"
At this, a disturbed murmur instantly swept through the ranks like a row of dominoes causing Uraga to sweat. If he let the youkai speak, his cover was gone.
"Whom are they referring to, Marshal?" inquired his second lieutenant.
"Hell if I know," Uraga bit out. Enough of this. I'm not falling. I'm not getting caught. "They're trying to lead us astray. Don't weaken your minds! Load your guns and be sure to pump in enough tranquilizer to make them sleep into the next century!"
"But sir, they seem willing to speak. Perhaps might accept a compr-"
"There is no such thing as compromise with brutes! We will attack at my command!" he shouted out over his troops with hopes that this promise of a battle would rip the men from their doubts.
Little did he know that a voice of dissent would ricochet back at him.
"We will not."
Uraga's face went red. "Who dares-" But he went no further once he saw the source of this preposterous insubordination. Impossible…
"Your orders will not be followed," repeated Shien as he walked forward. He heard the rustling of cloth and metal as soldiers moved out of his way. Shien's clothing was shabby, his body covered with bandages. He was weak, and must have been a pitiful sight.
But what does it matter when it is a self I cannot see? I can hear my words. I can hear his words. My body can act and I know that is enough for now.
Shien's voice was like a sword sheathed with silk. "Your orders will never be followed. I accuse you of high treason. Of insubordination. Of awakening and conspiring with a youkai clan towards the destruction of Major Yoshitsune and his men when they refused to shed itan blood at your command. Of breaking heaven's high law of purity. Of attempted murder of a direct superior-" Shien paused and let his words sink in before speaking once again, quieter this time. "Tenpou Gensui is alive. And he is fully informed of your disloyalty."
"That's a lie!" Uraga was quick to defend himself. "You speak out of turn. Somebody put him in chains until he is brought to court."
Nobody moved. Nobody said a word.
Never in his life had Shien even thought of disobeying orders. And to do it in front of an entire army…he knew he would never have this courage again.
Uraga was unsheathing his sword. He could hear the polished blade slide cleanly out of its scabbard. "I'm sure…" Uraga heaved. "…Tentei would have mercy on me if, just this once, I take justice into my own hands."
Everything around him seemed to become still, as if the seconds were fighting this very event from happening. But time is as it is, and it is just the same for kami as it is for youkai and humans. Nothing moves backwards save for the pulling movement of a bow. And that is what it felt like now. That moment between pointing and shooting. It is a moment of both total freedom and total slavery, where one reaches the absolute balance between action and consequence, destiny and free will.
Shien felt that it would be his fate to live like this forever. It was a sure punishment, but one he would gladly suffer.
Uraga charged. Shien wondered if it was possible to say that he could feel the arc of the sword. It sliced through the air with the crudeness of a butcher and not the refinement of a soldier. If it were possible to say that that the sword was loud, he would have said it even though nobody would have understood him. So Shien merely sidestepped the attack and allowed Uraga to sway forward before taking advantage of the broken balance.
He estimated his distance before kneeing the man in the stomach. The sword fell to the ground, but before the former general followed, Shien roughly grabbed his collar and dragged him through the ranks.
"Take him!" Shien shouted as he pushed Uraga down the hill to where the youkai lay in waiting. "Did he forget to tell you that your castle has already been destroyed?"
"No…no!" It must have been a pitiful sight: Uraga trying to climb out of the grave he dug for himself. Shien was glad he couldn't see it. "It's a lie. That man's lying! It wasn't me! Commander Takemura forced me to do-I'll give you your castle, if you just let me-"
Shien repeated Uraga's haughty words. "I think Tentei will have mercy on me if, just this once, I take justice into my own hands. Just be thankful I decided to leave you in the company of kinder executioners than myself."
Then he turned to the troops. "I will not begrudge anybody who wishes to save this man. I will not begrudge anybody who wishes to accuse me of breaking holy law. You would be doing your duty. I have done mine."
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
And in the distance were Uraga's disgraceful cries, easily forgotten.
From the way that Konzen struggled, one would say that he looked as if he were drowning. Kicking, holding his breath, clawing at the air and meeting no hand to pull him out of this mess.
Pretend like your dying, that's what he told himself. It felt more consoling than the idea of being raped on Tenpou's bed by a stranger.
"Getthefuckoffmeyoupervertedasshole!" he managed in one breath when Takemura's mouth left his lips to lay claim to the skin of his neck where he bit. Hard. "Agh! Fucking vampire, are you deaf?! Get off. Murderous bastard." Konzen put as much venom in those last words as he could muster, but was silenced with a strike to the face and gut.
"Prove it," the man taunted in his ear. The stench of strong alcohol sank into the covers and Konzen knew that if he got out of this alive, the first thing he would do would be to burn the sheets. Throwing himself into the fire with them didn't seem like such a bad idea right now, but then again, very few things seemed like a bad idea given his situation. "Prove that I'm a murderer. You can't, pretty one, can you?"
The weight above him shifted, making it more difficult to move. Something jabbed at his thigh, but he preferred not to think about what it was. Konzen did a quick mental assessment of how shitty his day was.
Tenpou died. All his investigations were closed. It took a second for them to replace him. Konzen hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten. And now he was going to be raped by a raging drunk. No witnesses.
At least their clothes were still on. Count your blessings…
Konzen sqeezed his eyes shut when Takemura reached under his tunic and began tugging at his trousers.
"Pretty one like a pure heaven," the man ranted, his breathing becoming ragged. "Spread just a little bit for me-"
God, this is it…But something like thunder stopped the man above him from continuing further. Beside Konzen's head, in the wall behind him, was a bullet hole made with a real bullet, not one of those standard issue tranquilizer darts issued by the military. The bed shook, or maybe it was the stranger. Hell, even Konzen shook.
And a tone like ice. "The next one won't miss." Konzen heard the click of a gun. He saw the barrel of it aimed right at the back of the man's head and behind the gun was a furious Tenpou.
"Keep touching him and I pull the trigger. Move for your weapon and I pull the trigger. Speak and I pull the trigger. I'll be sentenced to death, but believe me when I say I'll die satisfied this time. I'm not a man after rewards, Takemura. You're thinking of bribing me, aren't you? Too bad. The only thing I want back, I can't have back. In any case, what little I want, I already have and I intend to keep it. And if keeping it means blowing your head off, I will, but not before I rip out your balls. Am I clear?"
Takemura nodded.
"Good. You're being cooperative." Tenpou turned towards the open doorway. "Zenon, please take him from me and bring this matter to Goujun. I'm afraid I'll kill him myself if I keep looking at him."
He gently shooed Konzen off the bed and proceeded to yank off the sheets. "Wait for me in my study. I'll be with you shortly. Make tea. And get something to eat while you're at it. You look half dead," he said, the coldness melting from his voice into the Tenpou that he always knew.
Konzen wordlessly complied and stepped out of the room, but not before reaching out to touch his friend's hand. He felt the warmth there and was content with the knowledge.
"As if Goujun would be any nicer," replied Zenon as he placed shackles on the Commander's wrists and hauled him to his feet. "And don't think you'll get much of a trial, asshole. Uraga ratted you out. I think a whole army of witnesses will be enough to make you want to be pissing through your toes when this is all over."
"Well, what do you say about divine justice now?"
"I still don't like it. There are some things I'd still rather do with my own hands."
Tenpou scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "For the record, soldier, I never heard you say that. I never said 'thank you,' either. Just for the record."
"Just for the record, Marshal, I was on inventory duty for the past week."
"This case might get you a promotion. How can I elevate your rank if the only thing you've been doing was counting weapons in the warehouses?"
"Well," Zenon grinned mischievously, making his way out the door, prisoner in tow, "I can count really really well. But just the same, what I want, I already have. So as long as you don't take that away from me, I am content to keep serving you, Marshal."
When Tenpou entered his study, he found Konzen sitting at his desk. He sat there silently, a hunched figure in the darkness; and through Tenpou's tired eyes it seemed as if Konzen's shadow had been ripped from its owner and placed here. There was no sunshine. There was no gold. A shadow, and that was it.
He reached to turn on the lamp.
"Leave it off," Konzen ordered. "I want it off. I'm not in the mood to look at you right now, asshole. I might want to kill you for that stunt you pulled."
Tenpou made to ignore the request, but thought better of it and settled himself on the couch, fishing for that packet of cigarettes, which, if he remembered correctly, were wedged somewhere between the pillows. Ah, there you are. He knew well enough that Konzen didn't want to be looked at. Having been touched enough tonight, the god must have been desperate for what space that the senses would allow him. And darkness was an infinite space.
Or infinite confinement…"So?"
"So what?" said Tenpou, lighting the bent cigarette and breathing in deeply.
"Talk, fool."
"What's there to say?"
"I don't know. Just say something. Just keep talking." Konzen grumbled. "You're good at that, aren't you?"
"Guilty as charged," Tenpou replied, smiling and knowing that Konzen could hear it in his voice, if not see it with his eyes. What a scrupulously illogical man, to blatantly want me both alive and dead, to want both infinite distance and unbroken closeness...
"I suppose I could rattle off my schedule for the next week if you're so disposed to hear my worthless one-way chatter."
"Whatever."
"I need to inform everyone that I'm still alive. That's the first thing on my list. The trial, which I hope to take care of as soon as possible. Then there's the matter of Shien. I will have to speak to Goujun about a pardon-"
"Don't do that ever again, without telling me," Konzen interrupted him curtly. "Don't ever do that again without telling me! I don't care if it was within your control or not. If you're going to die, let me fucking know first. Because…" He choked up. "Fuck, I just have this bad feeling that…"
"The next one won't miss, right?" Tenpou finished.
Konzen didn't answer.
Behind him, a slow dawn was rising behind the curtains. It was a new day, but it felt strangely heavy with the events of the past, like a bucket of water ready to overflow at the brim. They both felt it. Destiny was ready for a purging and it sought empty darknesses to flood, empty hearts to submerge with a sense of what life truly is, even if it meant knowing death.
"The we'll give them a run for their money before we fall, I guess." Tenpou looked to Konzen for a reaction, but found none. They sat in silence, similar to the silences they had shared many nights before.
"Tenpou."
"Yes?"
"Just make sure that it's worth it."
"If we're running for it, then I'm sure it is." He stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray and the glow of burning ash gave way to the light of the morning sun. "As long as we never forget what we're running towards, I think we're good. We won't be heroes, but we won't feel so much like dogs, either. I think that's a good thing."