Chapter 1: The Weed
Tsukushi Makino awoke to sunlight streaming over her face. It's a perfect day for the festival, she thought with a happy sigh. Throwing off the covers and setting her feet on the chilly floor, she glanced over at her sleeping sister. Sakurako's snores filled their small room. Giving her a gentle shove to quell the noise, Tsukushi quietly slipped on a simple shift and plaited her hair in two braids. She paused for a moment and looked closely at herself in the looking glass on their wall (one of the little luxuries that came of having such a pretty and popular sister). Though never described as a beauty, Tsukushi appreciated her straightforward appearance.
Since their family had relocated to the town of Eitoku after the death of her mother, she had desired only one thing, a quiet life, free of the melodramatics that her mother had delighted in. Unfortunately, as Sakurako was making it her business to discover, Eitoku seemed to be a place ripe for the dramatic. Someone like her sister could make friends and enemies wherever she went here, and the people of Eitoku seemed to take these roles to the extreme. Rare was the day that Sakurako wasn't either showered with gifts by her male suitors, or roughly ambushed by jealous detractors. Luckily, she also had their mother's penchant for wriggling out of tight spots. Tsukushi, on the other hand, never had to test such limits as her plain face served her well when it came to blending into the background.
"Two years," she told herself each day, "Just two more years, and then father will find me an apprenticeship, and I will leave this place." To say Tsukushi had never really warmed to Eitoku would be putting it lightly. She despised them. The townsfolk had mercurial tendencies, and it seemed that someone was always being run out of town. The only comfort she found in this place was the natural wildness of the close-set woods bordering the town, but even that refuge was cast in shadows due to the townspeople's prattling tales of "The Beast".
She made to leave, hesitated, then turned back to the small stand that served as their dressing table. Two red ribbons lay forgotten from when Sakurako had decided that red was "Not her color."
Today IS the festival, Tsukushi mused while fingering the soft silk of the ribbons. Before she could question herself, she untied the strings she usually used to bind her braids and replaced them with the small frivolities.
With that, she padded to the kitchen to prepare the morning meal. The early hour had always been a good friend to Tsukushi. She worked hard to complete her chores in the morning to make time to wander the forest in search of herbs. Ever since she was a little girl, she had accompanied her woodcutter father on his journeys into the woods. On this day, she would return on her own through town to attend the annual Harvest Festival.
A rumpled boy emerged from the second room of the cottage and began to set the table for the morning meal.
"Susumu!" Tsukushi exclaimed, "You will be late for school! Quickly eat your porridge and go!" She pulled the bubbling cauldron off the heat of the wood stove and hastily lobbed a glob at his bowl.
"Oh, Sis, you worry to much!" Susumu shot back while shoveling down hot cereal. "Remember fun Tsukushi? I miss her."
A wooden spoon sticky with porridge dealt a playful whack on Susumu's head. "Someone has to take care of things around here, Susumu. Otherwise where would you be? Late and hungry. Now go!"
Susumu collected his school things and ran out the door laughing. Tsukushi's heart warmed to see her brother so light.
Later when Tsukushi was trudging her father's well-worn path through the woods, she contemplated Susumu's teasing words. Normally his younger-brother comments would be spoken and disappear simultaneously, but they strangely resonated with a letter she had received from her friend in the last town where they had lived. Yuki was an excellent correspondent, with both a sympathetic nature and a lively slant for storytelling. She never tired of hearing Tsukushi's stories about the frustratingly fickle people of Eitoku, and of the place's mysteries. In her most recent letter, though, Yuki had asked if Eitoku had changed Tsukushi. "When you lived here, you were always standing up for others, but it sounds like that part of you has gone into hiding. To be frank, your letters have become increasingly bitter towards Eitoku, but it doesn't sound like you've done anything to change it."
These were the words that hung heavy on Tsukushi's heart. She recollected moments when she had witnessed injustice in the town and remained silent. Maybe I actually hate myself worst of all, she thought.
Returning from the woods before the sun had set, Tsukushi wandered into town. The time spent studying plants in the forest had proved fruitful, and in addition to her usual herbs, she also had procured a pocket full of stinging nettle to make tea. Her father had almost stumbled right into a thick patch of it, and Tsukushi's quick reflexes had saved him from a painful burn.
As she walked through town, shops began to emerge, and a figure by the bakery waved.
Tsukushi greeted one of her rare acquaintances. "Hello, Makiko, I hope you're well."
Makiko fell into step and began as if they had already been mid-conversation. "Did you see the fine silks Yuriko plans to wear to the festival? They cost more than I'm able to spend on clothing all year! All I have is my muslin."
Tsukushi felt her eye begin to twitch. What's wrong with simple fabrics, she thought. They are perfectly serviceable. To Makiko she blandly replied, "Oh?"
"Yes! Though I know you don't care for such things, Tsukushi, they do matter in a place like Eitoku. Why just yesterday I even heard your sister complaining to the milliner about how you practically roam wild in that wood."
"Let's go to the Harvest Festival together," Tsukushi said, hastily changing the subject.
Makiko's face brightened, "Really? You know, I had worried that it was only I who fancied us friends. You're always so reserved…"
There was a tug at Tsukushi's heart then, softly reminiscent of a lost self. "I have always thought of you as a friend!" she said. As if to prove her sentiment, she grabbed Makiko's hand and exclaimed, "The music is starting! The Harvest Festival has begun!" She pulled Makiko along, chasing after the merry strings and rolling tum-tum-tums.
Maybe, Tsukushi thought to herself, the next two years won't be so bad.
When they reached the center of town Tsukushi's eyes widened at the sight. Flames leapt up from a roaring bonfire while dancers artfully circled it, weaving around scarecrows schoolchildren had made. One dancer wore a large horned mask covered with the coal black fleece of a fierce ram. Red-painted eyes flashed in the firelight, and bone-carved teeth rattled. Makiko frowned, "They ought not make light of the beast. Though there hasn't been a sighting in so long, why risk his rage?"
Tsukushi, for all her time spent in the woods, had never seen the beast, but had heard the stories. The children of Eitoku were told to keep close, do not stray, or the beast will catch you and eat you up. Farmers had told of barns toppled and flocks ravaged. There had even been some nights when she had heard a ferocious clamor coming from the forest.
"They say he never sleeps. He roams far and wide to fight with any creature he meets – bears, wolves, and the devil himself," Sakurako had said. Tsukushi suspected her sister had a morbid fascination with the mysterious phantom.
Phantom or no, the reality of the beast's mark had already ruined one family since Tsukushi had moved here. After felling much of the forest near their farm, the Kimoto family had woken up to a red rose painted on their door. Rumors swirled through the town that they had brought on the ire of the beast with their trespassing. Their fields were set on fire, their cattle disappeared, but worst of all was the treatment from the town. Almost as one, Eitoku turned on them, equal parts shunning and tormenting them. The family had been so ostracized that they had been forced to pull up stakes and leave town one night.
Tsukushi's heart hardened towards the silly Eitoku townspeople, "Never mind them!" she urged, but Makiko didn't hear as a handsome youth took her hand and whirled her away among the dancers. Left to her own devices, Tsukushi circled the town square, taking in all the sights and smells. She saw Susumu with a pack of schoolfriends, arms loaded with sweet raisin buns. A dancer brushed dangerously close and Tsukushi caught a glimpse of Sakurako looking over her partner's shoulder and impishly sticking her tongue out at Tsukushi. No doubt that grimace will turn angelic as soon as admiring eyes are upon her, Tsukushi mused.
As the night wore on, she began to feel painfully aware of her mud-stained hem, and sturdy leather boots. The ladies of the town pranced in the firelight in fine silk and lace. She appeared not to be anyone's choice for a dancing partner, and felt torn between relief and regret. Looking up at the clear night sky, she imagined she twirled among the stars in a celestial dance. The daydream almost made her heavy boots feel light.
Suddenly a cry broke through the music, and Tsukushi anxiously scanned the square in search of the source of the commotion. The dancers broke into a confused run, and a cacophony of snarls and growls exploded on the other side of the bonfire. Before she could even flinch, the massive form of a great beast leapt through the fire and landed in the town square. Tsukushi trembled in fear at the sight of a large creature covered in black curly hair, vicious claws and teeth tearing down everything in its path. With a start, Tsukushi regained the use of her limbs and turned to run, but a familiar cry pierced through her terror. Makiko! She whirled to see that her friend had tripped in her flight, and was helplessly sprawled upon the ground not far from the beast. The creature let out an awful cry and began to approach.
A long-repressed instinct took over Tsukushi and she threw herself between Makiko and the beast.
Glaring fiercely into eyes that the back of her mind noted were not red, but brown, she shouted, "Stop! Leave her alone!"
The creature halted in its charge, and snarled. To her utter surprise she heard a low and gravelly voice hiss, "Out of my way, don't you know better than to get between a beast and its prey?"
Astonished that the thing could speak, Tsukushi shrunk away, choking out, "She has done nothing to you... Leave her be." Relentlessly, the beast stalked towards her, and Tsukushi's hand flew instinctively to her pocket. A sharp pain met her, and without a moment to lose, she grabbed a fistful of stinging nettle and hurled it at the beast's face.
Her aim was true, and the beast roared in pain, pawing at its eyes and snout, staggering about in blind anger.
Tsukushi grabbed Makiko's hand. "Run!" she shouted, and the girls tore through the town not daring to look behind them until they had reached its outskirts.
Much too frightened to even begin thinking about returning to town, Makiko followed Tsukushi to the small woodcutter's cottage that lay near the edge of the woods. Susumu and Sakurako greeted them with a tight embrace, while her father bolted the door and put out all the lights. Despite these precautions, sleep evaded Tsukushi, and all night she was haunted by a pair of piercing brown eyes.