Autumn, Season 123/2008, recounted Winter, Season 124/2008

I, Orino Harukawa, confess that I am possessed of a strange and unhuman ability. During the spring of my twenty-fourth year, I suffered from sudden dizzy spells which had me confined to bed for a week. This was at the height of the silkworm season, you understand, and my father was much angered by this loss of hands. He cursed me then, I am sure. His words were, "if you won't work, then your sleep will become work." Ever since then, whenever I have closed my eyes I am beset by queer moving images, as if a quickly-flipping picture-book was forever opened up on their insides.

At first I supposed that the images were merely my fancies. Over time, however, I realized to my horror that they were other people's fancies. Through some curious Second Sight I saw what others around me saw with their mind's eye. I confess that, being of my station, much of what I saw was neither pleasant nor edifying. The full panoply of human want was impressed upon me in the fields, every day, whenever I closed my eyes for refuge from the noonday sun. Still, I persist in my duties. I do not now seek pity, but understanding, about a curious and terrific incident which had occurred to me last season due to this very same ability.

I must tell you first about our family. We are humble tenant farmers who have paid our koku of rice to the Hieda household since time immemorial. We have never withheld our grain even during the leanest years. We have never shirked the silk tax in our years of silkworm-rearing.

It thus shames me greatly, you understand, to say that my generation is struggling. The river burst its banks in the spring of last year and claimed several tan of our fields, cutting into our already-modest yield. My father is ailing, my mother is old, and my sister and I have failed to find suitors even in our advanced ages. My sister is an especially sorrowful case: Tsuru is an exceedingly beautiful woman of eighteen, and yet she is not fully formed. It was as if the gods had left the clay of her creation unfinished. I relate this not for pity's sake, but because she and her circumstances shaped the center of the incident.

You must understand that, above all, Tsuru means well. Through my Sight I perceived that she possessed a deep faith in fairies. Her mind's eye was forever flying above the fields, following the flight of the spring fairy, dancing in circles above the silvery lake with those of the winter, and nesting inside their little homes in autumn. She was playing even when her mind, incomplete, failed to grasp the method to weed the fields. Tsuru would wander in a happy daze towards the river, for she had none of the reserve that others felt when approaching nature. She viewed the river as a welcoming place, when she should have not.

She took ill on the eve of the Harvest Festival. I confess that as the eldest sister, I should have trailed her as closely as a hawk trails its prey. However the whole family was busy with the harvest, and there were rumors that the Autumnal Sisters would visit our corner of Gensokyo, so we were kept busy by the offerings. I fear that it was a day before we noticed that, far from being her untroubled self, Tsuru had withdrawn and was laying in stupor.

When I found her that early afternoon, she was hot to the touch. Tsuru's hair was askew with sweat, her eyes frantic with incomprehension. I hastened to loose her clothes and set a preparation of Maoto to boil, all the while trying to talk to her. Tsuru likes the cadence of words, and I hoped that my voice would soothe her, but instead she let out labored gasps of pain. My father was away and my mother would not be back until dark. In that black instance I am ashamed to say that I fled the house. I had half a mind to look for the village doctor, but my thoughts were on leaving my sister, no matter that she was gasping on the floor.

In all honesty, I was tired and afraid and lost. I was trying to remember the amount of payment befitting for a doctor, but my mind was flurry with other people's longings and boredom, greed and want. Although the village was close, I am not ashamed to say that I took the longest most meandering paths, sorry for my lot in life. I was afraid of losing my sister, but a small corner of my heart wished for her death, so that I would have one less Sight to see to. That cloud of emotion was to lead to my greatest mistake.

While stumbling through the rice fields, I saw the bobbing figure of the medicine-seller. I had heard the rumors, of course: that her medicine had strange unwanted effects, even that her face was foreign and inhuman. Our family had refused to take her medicine box when it was offered. Yet in that frame of hysteria I had shed all reason and only wanted another person to part the burden which I had been dragging. I rushed towards her then, babbling and imploring for her to do something about my sister.

I remember that the medicine-seller said a curious thing in assent. Her voice was soft:

"Yours are the shortest that I've seen yet. Please, lead me to your sister."

I did not ponder those words at that time, but I later realized that they hinted at her true nature. I should not have led her to our home.

I would have liked to say that the rumors were true, that even her countenance was off-putting, or that her face was a caricature of a foreigner's, but I am an honest person. Her face was oval and soft in the afternoon light. While it is true that she had a foreigner's nose, and that her eyes were set deep and were larger than the norm, she was not uncanny-looking. Instead she had on an expression that I could immediately place. It said: I am worn and I would love to go home, but I have promised myself to do one more thing, and so I shall do it. I confess that it calmed me so to see such simple determination, although later events would serve to tarnish this impression.

When we arrived home, I tore through the house looking for my sister. The kitchen was a mess, the Maoto preparation that I had left to boil had overflown. While I set about extinguishing the stove, the medicine-seller had ducked inside. I noticed that, even as she had set down her heavy-looking bag, she had insisted on keeping her straw hat. As if anticipating this, she had asked:

"I'm sorry for my impoliteness, but may I keep my hat on inside? It's necessary for my work." I had assented then, but I wonder if I should have been more demanding.

My sister lay in a sad heap in the living room, her fudangi gown sullied with vomit and mucus. She made odd gurgling sounds. I recall with shame my absurd urge to prostrate before her, to apologize for my fleeting wish to have her die, but before I could do so the medicine-seller had rolled Tsuru on her stomach. The instant that she was moved, Tsuru burped and vomited over the medicine-seller's coat. I flinched and closed my eyes, Seeing briefly Tsuru's sweaty and nauseous fever-dream. The recoil was so affecting that it was a while before I noticed that the medicine-seller had been trying to talk to me.

"Miss, excuse me, miss? Would you mind going out of the room? The treatment requires a little space." The medicine-seller's face was a little more hesitant then, more unsure. I thought that my disquiet was getting to her, so I obediently agreed and excused myself outside.

That was when I noticed that I couldn't See her. When I rubbed my eyes, I could only See the background roil of our neighbors and the skittering panic-deliriousness of my sister's vision. She had no presence in my ability, as if she were an animal or a rock. This revelation unnerved me. Oh, how I should have listened and kept her away from my sister!

Before I could act, however, the medicine-seller exited the house. In a nervous, rushed tone she addressed me:

"Excuse me, miss, your sister's in a bad state, I'm going to fetch some help, so please wait and try making sure your sister doesn't vomit."

After she had said this, the medicine-seller dashed towards the village, her medicine bag tottering. Now thoroughly unnerved, I had rushed to check on Tsuru.

Tsuru was awake and blinking, still lying prone, her arm cushioning her head. Her gown had been replaced by a warm-looking blanket that was wrapped around her torso. When I blinked I Saw myself through her eyes, and knew then that the medicine-seller had made her drink a calming medicine. Her mind's eye was clear of her usual phantasies, but I could make out her subsurface delirium, as if her thoughts had been forced into a small cage and were threatening to burst out. Her placidness was uncanny - you must understand, Tsuru is not a calm person. I held onto her for a while, stroking her lush hair, trying to make her feel safe. Tsuru's eyes fell to half-masts as her tattered breathing slowed. Her mind's eye was filled with the sight of me. I took that as a good omen, and held onto it.

After an impossibly brief interval I heard a voice beckon from the door. The voice did not belong to the medicine-seller; this voice was deeper and older, but it affected politeness. Opening the door I was greeted by the sight of an imposing woman, towering in stature and dressed in a peculiar red-and-blue uniform. Her hair was a striking white, while her face was set in a placid expression that still radiated authority. Truth be told, my first reflex had told me to bow deeply before her, but the strange circumstances prevented me from doing so.

I am glad not to have done so, because I understand now that this woman is a master of strange magic and counted a youkai among her followers. Although authorities such as yourself have assured me that she is indeed human, in my judgement she is nevertheless so close to youkai as to be indistinguishable from them. I hope you will not begrudge such an opinion, coming as it does from the people who live beyond the borders of the village.

She and the medicine-seller had let themselves into the living room, although the medicine-seller performed an odd bow before doing so. Immediately, the medicine seller had set down her bag and went about moving the furniture, while the uniformed woman produced a series of glinting metal instruments out of the aforesaid bag. I presumed that this woman, clearly the senior, was the doctor. The woman then said to me:

"Miss Harukawa, would you be so kind as to wait outside the house? In any other circumstance I would not have dared to move you out of your own home, but this unfortunate happenstance demands otherwise. I assure you, your sister is in capable hands."

I followed her instruction, but something in the tone of her voice finally broke my compliant spell. She, a complete stranger, had asked me to leave my sister's side and forced me out of my own family home. I decided then to use my unhuman ability to safeguard my sister's safety. Outside, in the company of the dipping afternoon sun, I had closed my eyes and Sighted my sister. Her vision was still clear, less feverish then but also unnaturally languid, as if she was slipping beneath water.

This is what I saw. I saw a most terrifying confirmation of the rumor: the medicine-seller was indeed a youkai. I saw her take off her hat and watched with horror as two beast-like ears emerged, resembling those of a rabbit. Her hair, scraggly with sweat, had been tied in a messy bun that threatened to spill. In the light of my sister's mind-eye, her hair was the color of Wisteria blooms, strange and alien. I confess then I had sunk to my knees in despair. I had let two youkai inside my home and they were about to consume my sister. A powerless farmhand like me had not the power to stop whatever Fate had decreed, so all I could do was Watch.

The elder woman spoke up then in a withering tone:

"Udonge, why did you misdiagnose the poor woman?"

The youkai, who was evidently named Udonge, had replied in a wavering voice:

"Master, I submit to your judgement, but she's showing all the symptoms of dengue. Fever, nausea and vomiting, aching…"

The woman cut her off with a dismissive chopping motion. I tried to See the woman at that moment, but like her apparent apprentice, she had no resonance in my ability. She was as freakish as any youkai.

"Udonge, ask her sister," the elder woman snapped. My sister's vision wavered then, and I felt her bubbling anguish return, for she was used to that tone of voice. She began gasping and fumbled for the woman. The youkai made a pained expression, but didn't move.

"Udonge, now. Your attitude is threatening lives," the elder woman repeated, more softly then as she reached out to stroke my sister's hand. I could feel the knot of confusion tightening in my sister's vision, and I clenched my fists in a futile gesture. I then heard the shuffling of feet behind me and opened my eyes. I felt my heart crawl into my throat, my chest tightening in fear.

"Miss Harukawa? Is something wrong?" The youkai's voice called out from behind me. My eyes must have been wide with terror as I rose and turned towards her, for she continued only with hesitance, "I'm happy to say that your sister will be alright, but we need to ask a few questions… if you may."

I do not doubt that she knew her disguise had been spoiled. I was seized then by a sudden daring: had I a weapon, I would have made a move to rip out her throat. I did not do so because the youkai named Udonge had continued on, willfully oblivious (I am sure) to the tension between us.

"Miss Harukawa, we are trying to save your sister. Please. Did she happen to, perhaps, work near a swamp? Did she complain of headaches before? How long has she been feverish?" Her questions were posed in an unconvincing, forced monotone. I tried to not look at the youkai's eyes, but when I glanced there I found that they were steeped with apprehension.

"Please answer, Miss Harukawa. I'm not going to hurt you."

Seeing that I did not even attempt to answer, her tense expression grew hurt and sullen. The youkai then grasped my arm and half-pulled, half-dragged me inside the house. My sister, lying now on a futon, had resumed her groaning. The manic insistence of her wordless pleading made our exchanges bitter and febrile.

"Master Eirin, Miss Harukawa knows. It's why I didn't even try the first time." She had spoken in a low, deferential voice but I knew an accusation when I heard one. The woman named Eirin then shot me a brief, conspiratorial smile.

"Miss Orino. Miss Tsuru's brain is presently swelling, and if she does not receive the correct treatment, she will most certainly die. I humbly request your compliance in answering my assistant Reisen's questions. Please, begin again, Reisen."

Her tone had been even but pregnant with unmistakable weight and threat. I spent moments in indecision, alternating between her and the youkai.

"Miss Harukawa, we're not going to hurt you or your sister," the youkai, who evidently had two names, insisted to me. "Did your sister work near a swamp?"

Cornered by two youkai and with my sister's life dripping by, I had yielded. I shook my head and said that she had a habit of going to the river to chase fairies. At this, Eirin commanded:

"Look for any eschars, anything scab-like."

Reisen had reacted immediately, stripping my sister and lifting her arms, inspecting the nape of her neck and other folds of skin. I had been on the verge of protest when, as Reisen lifted Tsuru's right arm, I saw that my sister had a black scar the size of a thumbnail on her armpit.

"Reisen, observe. The work of tsutsugamushi, not mosquitoes. Scrub typhus, not dengue. Next time, talk to the patient."

It seemed to me that she was giving her youkai assistant a mild reprimand, but I saw that Reisen had trembled and looked away. She looked more afraid than chastened. She had uttered a weak "Yes, master," before reaching inside the medicine bag to retrieve what I presumed were the implements of treatment. Then, sighing, Reisen once again removed her hat, revealing again her two rabbit-like ears, before sitting beside my sister and closing her eyes.

I thought that this had been a threatening gesture, so I seated myself behind her, wondering what I could do in this situation. Suddenly, I felt a sure hand grip my shoulder.

"Miss Harukawa, you may watch if it calms you," Eirin said then. "You may close your eyes and watch."

Reisen, her furred ears tall and alert, leaned towards my sister. The living room, dim in the setting light of early evening, lit up in a strange red glow. I closed my eyes then.

The vision I relate to you now is as true and terrific as it had been then. Although my sister cannot be a verbal witness, her mind's eyes were nevertheless the medium for the vision, and I am sure that you can extract a truthful confession out of her. However, as I have striven to demonstrate, I am an impartial observer. I hope therefore that my account may suffice.

I first saw hills, sloping and undulating into the distance as far the eye could see. Following their curvature, I arrived at their blackened peaks, and observed with wonder that the night sky seemed impossibly vivid and close. The River of Heaven had descended, august and magnificent, a million gleaming bitter-yellow stars close enough to touch. The quality of light was lilting and warm, the color of oft-remembered familiar memories. As my sister ambled forwards, a warm autumn breeze brought the scent of tea olive and a nearby river. I laughed then because I had realized that the nearby river was the one above.

A shrill whistling sound turned my sister's mind-eye towards the horizon, where she observed a peculiar carriage, advancing on its own power along a little metal road.

I heard Reisen's voice then, pointing the carriage out to my sister. "That thing is called a train, Miss Harukawa... Oh!"

My sister had begun flying around, as was her wont in her phantasies. She was laughing heartily as I Saw that she was aiming to touch the stars. However, before she could reach them, a bright flash of glaring red light had flooded her vision, and Tsuru immediately found herself seated inside the carriage.

"I'm sorry, Miss Harukawa. Maybe next time."

Reisen was seated beside Tsuru, her height a little imposing. I confess that I felt no danger then, even though Reisen was a youkai who had the power to impart visions of dizzying reality. I reasoned afterwards that it was due to my powerlessness. My sister also seemed to accept her lot, content to gaze outside at the twinkling river of stars.

The interior of the carriage was made of the finest, shining wood. I have often wondered how the better-offs travel, and I suspected then that this was their standard. The seats were sturdy and lined with a cushion-y, soft material colored a faded hue of green. The scenery outside, I must tell you, was a marvel. We were moving at a steady pace, the metal road bringing us to a metal bridge spanning a clear, sparkling river. The banks of the river glistened with nodding pampas grass and brilliant purple gentians, so that as the carriage moved they blurred into a gentle bluish-white impression. The river, clear as a winter night's sky, reflected its celestial brother above. The stars, not cold, gleamed generous and hazy.

The carriage made clanking loud sounds as it moved, and my sister turned to observe Reisen. She seemed to be squinting at a faraway object with her focused, glowing eyes while her ears alternately unfurled and drooped. Reisen's hands operated unseen instruments. She was differently-attired, I had noticed, in a dark-blue uniform that seemed as stiff as her expression. However, she was grinning then, and rather widely at that. My sister made a move to touch her.

The next moment, my sister had snapped her attention back to the window. Outside she saw, flickering at first, the fairies she had longed to play with. I marveled at their variety and color. A blue winter one kept pace with the carriage and waved at my sister, wings made out of crystalline ice. The spring fairy, her blonde hair rippling in the night wind, spread cherry-blossoms in her wake. A gaggle of rain fairies in mismatched attires streamed across the lake, causing the surface to ripple and quiver with soft drizzles. My sister had stared, utterly fixated and evinced no trace of her earlier illness. I am not ashamed to say that I was also bewitched.

Without warning the full moon emerged as if from behind a veil, and the whole river was lit in an eggshell-white glow. The fairies were outlined and their dance was made merry. A green fairy descended from above with the appearance of a large swallowtail, cascading what appeared to be little shards of mirror-glass. Their tumbling fall reflected the warm moonlight, making it tinkle and spin into the interior of the carriage. My sister had squealed in delight then, her hands clapping and clamoring. A thousand herons, sparkling white, flew down upon the carriage…

The beautiful vision ended, as a dream ends, in a gradual reawakening to reality and in a vague disappointment. My sister and I Saw the familiar blackened ceiling of our living room, the spots of mold patchy in the evening gloom. Reisen's sweating face hovered above my sister's. Her eyes, glowing an unsettling hue of red, were muddy with concern. She breathed out a long-held breath and took several gulps of air before speaking:

"Master, it's done?"

Eirin's face, which had appeared beside Reisen's, was a mask of genial calm. I opened my eyes then, because my sister had closed hers in deep, dreamless slumber.

"It is done. She should sleep for a day," Eirin began patting Reisen's shoulder before continuing, and I could see their stiffness going away. "That was Miyazawa, correct? Your repertoire is widening."

I heard a sudden, relieved giggle from Reisen. A distinct impression came over me, that the world was theirs entire, if only for that moment.

"The fairies convinced her, didn't they? I knew studying them would pay off. Then that moon, whoosh! I think I'll put a moon somewhere every time," Reisen's voice was buoyed, presumably by her master's praise. "Let's get back, master. I'm beyond tired."

After a spell, the two of them had turned to look at me. Eirin had shuffled closer, holding out a medicine box.

"Miss Harukawa, this is medicine for the both of you," she opened the box and indicated at some pills, "The blue pills are your sister's, to be taken once a day until they run out; the orange pills are yours, to take away your vision, to be taken at your discretion. My assistant will refill them every week, for a nominal fee."

Reisen piped up then, her voice less cheerful than before.

"Please. We all try our best. When I come for the box, don't do anything - sudden." Saying this she had forced a bitter smile. I had forced my own reluctant nod.

I will not bore you with the details of what came after. Suffice to say that my sister is healthy. My Sight is also gone, so long as I take the pills. I admit that me telling this experience is only the final link in a long chain of conscience that spanned the better part of a year.

I suppose that the youkai had thought to buy my compliance with show and medicine, but in this they have failed. I cannot hide the truth and today I have related to you the truth.

My request is that they be left alone, so long as they continue to use their abilities for the benefit of the village. I understand that youkai are our enemies, but there may be individuals who aren't so bent on murder. We could surely find a use for them, after a fashion. I hope that you may take my request into consideration, humble and ignorant as it is. The medicine-seller now comes to our house every other week and I do my part to keep an eye on her. Sometimes, I ask her how her day went, and sometimes she even deigns to answer.