Chapter Forty-Four: Spilled Tea
This was it. The moment that Mama had dreaded. According to Sesshoumaru, the possibility of the oyabun discovering the shrine was slim, a deduction he'd based on his own tracking abilities. The city was vast and filled with people, a dizzying medley of scents. In such a place, isolating the profiles of three people from a chance encounter would be difficult, perhaps impossible.
The early evening breeze ruffled the oyabun's blouse and carried a few of her long braids.
Sweat beaded on Mama's neck and she could feel her heart thrumming in her chest. Generations of Higurashi blood coursed through her, driving her fear. While she had never pursued priestess traditions, her ancestry and the legacy of the shrine and its sacred phenomena had shaped her, attuning her senses to the divine. But the occasional holy shrine or curiosity was no match for the immensity of the celestial beast that awaited her outside.
She swallowed down on the lump in her throat and steeled her nerves. There was a reason why she had insisted on staying. Because despite the fear that ached her body now, it was no match for the regret and shame she'd feel if someone else were here in her place. If Kagome's friends had come by to check up on her. Or if visitors on a pilgrimage had arrived at an empty shrine and lingered. Or if the police had been called to investigate their absence. If anyone had been here and the oyabun had found them, she wouldn't have been able to forgive herself. Without a doubt, she feared embroiling the innocent in danger more than facing a veritable god.
She breathed deep. As head of the family, this was her responsibility and more so, she was the only one of them who could do it. Right now, she was the one who could face the oyabun and survive.
Survive.
In a hustle, she left the window and raced across the house and into the kitchen. Her smartphone was still on top of the counter and she snatched it up. She yanked open one of the cabinet drawers and its random contents slid about from the force. Hastily, she sifted through pieces of paper and old batteries, searching. A creased business card fell from between a stack of coupons and she seized upon it.
Inspector Nakagawa Eiji, Detective: Criminal Investigations
While Sesshoumaru hadn't had an opinion that he cared to share, Souta had said that the detective had saved them. She stared at the blocky print of his contact information and licked her lips. Maybe he'd be willing to do it again.
Quickly, she unlocked her phone and opened her notetaking app. She pulled up a file and copied the paragraph that she had written once everyone had left for the train and pasted it into a text message for Detective Nakagawa. Her finger hovered over the send button, a decision she couldn't undo. She bit her lip. If she failed, then someone had to find them and tell them what happened. She tapped the button.
Message sent.
Her fingers a flurry, she deleted the text message from her history and blocked the detective's number. Then she erased the note on the app and with an ease she'd practiced for, she shucked her phone open and pulled out the sim card. She threw it in the drawer and slammed it shut before putting her phone back together again.
The dark forest closed in on her again. Deep piles of pine needles, soft under her feet. Tree trunks surrounded her, covered in rough bark. The pieces came loose as she pulled at them, her hands sticky with sap.
Breathing in and out, she shoved the sensation down and buried it.
With a final sigh, she was in motion again. Cabinet doors whipped open as she pulled out her best tea tray and pot. After setting them up on the counter, she dove into the refrigerator and retrieved a beautifully decorated pastry box and placed it by the tea set.
She scanned the objects, then nodded. She was as ready as she could be.
Leaving the kitchen behind, she headed for the front door. But as she passed the hallway mirror, she stopped. In the creases around her eyes and in the tension of her jaw, she saw her fear. And if the oyabun saw what she could see in her reflection, she would exploit it. Break her with it. Endanger everyone she held dear with it.
She would never let that happen.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. And with each breath, she remembered every time she waved goodbye to Kagome as she bounded for the dry well and the perilous world on the other side. Or when she packed Sesshoumaru and Tora a snack before they left for their patrol. And she remembered the times when they returned, and they weren't okay. The moments when they needed her strength the most.
The coil of anxiety inside her began to loosen, letting the tightness in her muscles relax. And when she opened her eyes, she saw a rock that withstood the crashing waves of a storm surge. She saw her warm confidence in her pleasant smile and gentle eyes. She saw a woman that would not break.
Determination brimming inside her, she walked to the entryway and slipped on her sandals. Then without a shred of hesitation, she opened the front door and left for the courtyard.
Still at the crest of the steps, the oyabun loitered, her eyes poring over the shrine. At first, she appeared to be enraptured by her surroundings, blind to Mama as she approached. But there was a readiness in her stance. She was primed for violence, like the open jaws of a crocodile.
Mama smiled. This is who her daughter stared down.
When she was ten meters away, she knelt onto her knees and prostrate herself in a deep bow, her fingertips touching as her palms rested on the ground in front of her.
"Great Qilin," she called out, her lips almost brushing the stone brick, "There are no words to describe the tremendous honor that your presence grants this unworthy shrine. As its purveyor, I would like to formally welcome you as our esteemed guest. My name is Higurashi—"
"Where are they?" the oyabun asked bluntly.
Mama felt the nebulous aura that surrounded the oyabun coalesce onto her body, sending a shiver shooting down her spine. She swallowed. "My lady, as our esteemed guest, it would be unforgivable if I did not serve you in a manner deserving of your status."
"There's nothing a wretched plebian, such as yourself, could offer that would even approach the worthiness that I deserve. So, you're relieved of the obligation. Tell me where they are."
"As noble and powerful as you may be, this isn't an obligation that can be cast aside. It's a tradition to serve guests when they visit. If a venerable being, such as yourself, sets foot in this shrine and I do not serve you, it will tarnish the divinity of this sacred place. I cannot allow that, even at the risk of my life."
The oyabun scoffed. "You've permitted a washed-out daiyoukai to reside here. The sanctity of this shrine has already been soiled."
"Has it, my lady?" Mama felt the warmth of the brick radiating up against her chest and face. "You can sense the power, can't you? There's no impurity here."
She glared at her, her jaw working.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the time to invite you in."
The breeze blew, sending fallen leaves dancing across the ground. In the distance, the rushing city filled the quiet, its lights starting to glow brighter than the sky around it.
"If it will please you," the oyabun conceded at last, "You may serve me as your guest. After which you will answer my questions to my satisfaction. Or I will kill you."
Her aura receded.
Wearing a gracious smile, Mama sat up. "I will, to the best of my ability."
With an indescribable grace, the oyabun began to walk towards her and Mama could scarcely conceal her gasp.
Above the oyabun, the foliage of the reaching boughs turned red and gold. Then the leaves fell, tumbling onto the ground around her. In their place, new buds formed and fattened until they unfolded, becoming new growth. Crawling up between the cracks in the brick, insects scurried before her. Their antennae waving, they seemed mesmerized by her presence. With their tiny bodies underfoot, her crisp, white pumps clacked down upon them as she strode. But in her wake, they remained unharmed and scattered in bewilderment.
"Well?" she asked as she came to a stop beside Mama and crossed her arms against her chest.
"My apologies," she said before hastily climbing to her feet. She offered a humble bow and waved towards the front door. "This way, my lady."
She nodded.
Taking the lead, Mama walked ahead of her and when she reached the front door, she held it open with a bow. The oyabun glided in and she followed behind her. They both shed their shoes, arranging them neatly in the entryway.
"Please come sit down," Mama said, guiding her towards the living room. The chaos from the night before was gone, except for the dark stain by the table.
The oyabun stopped in the doorway, her attention on the coagulated blood, her nostrils flaring slightly as she breathed it in.
"What type of tea would you prefer?" she asked, ignoring her guest's distraction. "I just bought this jasmine blend that came highly recommended. The best available, but I have yet to try it, so perhaps together we can see if it measures up to its praise? To see if it's worthy?"
She spied back at her from over her shoulder.
"I'll take that as a yes, my lady," she replied with a polite bow. Then she disappeared down the hallway and into kitchen.
Her body in autopilot, Mama turned on the water kettle again and opened the tea cupboard to fetch her new tea. She filled the tea basket and placed it in the pot. The water rumbled in the kettle and she clicked it off before it could boil. Steam wafted as she poured the water over the basket, steeping the tea. She collected the teapot, a pair of cups, the pastry box, and two plates with forks onto the tea tray and carried them to the living room.
There, she discovered the oyabun seated at the table, her dark eyes watching her. Mama paused. Under the incandescent light, it was the first time that she'd had a good look at the woman. With almond-shaped eyes and full lips, her face was an elegant blend of Asian and African features, making her easily one of the most beautiful women that she'd ever seen. Yet her expression remained a stony mask except for the ferocity that simmered in her glare and in the tension of her shoulders. She could admire the tiger, but she should never forget what it is.
"The tea is almost ready," Mama assured with a warm smile, and she moved forward again, setting the tray onto the table. "I also visited a lovely pastry shop earlier today and found a green tea cake for us to enjoy. It's vegan."
The oyabun raised an eyebrow.
"Since you're a qilin, I thought it might be considerate to provide refreshments where no animals were harmed or exploited."
"You knew that I would find you today?"
Facing her across the table, Mama sat down. "I knew that it was a possibility and I'm not in the business of underestimating others. No matter who or what they may be."
With an accustomed precision, she unloaded the tray, arranging the items on the table for service. Lifting the lid on the box, she revealed the delicate cake inside decorated with pink and green cherry blossoms.
"This looks delightful," Mama remarked, and she placed a piece onto each of the plates. She slid one in front of the oyabun. "Please enjoy, my lady. The tea will only be a moment."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked brusquely, ignoring the cake.
"What do you mean? You're my guest."
The oyabun snorted. "I've come here seeking my enemies, intending to destroy them and anyone who protects them, no matter their kindness. I'm not your guest. Why are you performing this charade?"
"Charade?" she repeated, and her gaze turned to the blood stain that spoiled the floor. "This isn't a charade. Or a mockery of civility. This is an attempt at understanding, my lady. Before it's too late and more pain is shared between us."
"There's nothing to be understood."
"That's not true," Mama disagreed gently, her attention returning to the table. She picked up the teapot and began to pour tea into the cups. A rich, floral aroma filled the air. "Do you know why I've referred to you as a qilin and not as a kirin?"
The oyabun stared at her.
She set the cup of tea before her. "It's because my daughter shared with me what you told her in the parking garage. I know where you came from. And more importantly, I know what a hanyou is."
An iridescent glow shimmered in her eyes.
"I don't intend it as an insult," Mama assured and sipped her tea. "I mention it because I understand what it means."
"You have no idea what it means."
She smiled. "I knew a young man once. He was like you, caught between two worlds. His father was powerful and influential, a man whose people had the resources to prey upon those who were less fortunate. And his mother was from that class of people who were preyed upon. A people who were consumed by the other. His parents had fallen in love, despite the bigotry and predation between their kind. But their son had a harder time than they could have imagined, because even though he was from both worlds, he belonged to neither."
"I'm not this young man. You presume too much."
"Without the truth shared from your lips, all I can express are presumptions. And questions. Except for you, of course, there are no kirins in Japan. So, why are you here and not on the mainland with your people? With your mother?"
The iridescence in her eyes burned brighter and her jaw clenched.
Mama nodded knowingly. "I don't have to be a hanyou to understand their experience. To empathize with the isolation and rejection. Humanity also has unwanted children who are invisible except for the shame of their parents' union."
"Enough of your games," the oyabun growled. She swept her hand across the table and sent her cup flying into the wall, shattering it. "Where is the daiyoukai and his allies?"
Unflinching, Mama watched her, her expression firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game. This is how we end the cycle of pain."
"The only pain that you should be concerned about is your own. Tell me where they are, or I will kill you."
"I'm not afraid of you. I see you. I see everything about you."
"You will tell me where they are."
"I see a woman who terrorizes the forgotten people of this city because she resents the neglect of her own family."
"Shut up."
"I see a woman who hides in a tower because she fears that the new family that she has created will reject her if they knew who she really was."
"Shut up."
"And I see a woman who will destroy anyone and anything that threatens this fragile illusion because it's all that she has left."
The table disappeared. The wall boomed and splintered wood and plaster shrapnel sprayed everywhere. Her body weightless, Mama watched the floor fly away. The smell of fresh dry cleaning and expensive perfume filled her nose as she inhaled. Then her breath exploded from her as she slammed into the hallway wall. Like a vice, a hand gripped her by the throat and her toes scrabbled uselessly for a floor that was just out of reach.
A molten glare bore into her. "Shut. Up."
"You might be a qilin now," she gasped through sputtering coughs, "But a youkai heart beats beneath the spider that scars your chest."
A shadowy copse of trees enveloped her. Half buried in the leaf clutter, a deer appeared, its body contorted and its eyes glassy and empty. Flies buzzed. And from its nose and mouth, maggots oozed and writhed.
As darkness encroached at the edges of her vision, Mama reached out to tenderly cup the oyabun's cheek and rasped, "At some time in their life, every person who's caught between two worlds wishes that they could shed half themselves to fully belong. And when the curse came and wiped out all youkai, you got your wish. I'm sorry that it wasn't for the half of yourself that you wanted to be."
The black overcame her, and her last thoughts were flooded with apologies. To her family. To her friends. To everyone she loved. She was supposed to survive.