THERE WAS A SHIP
Scribe Figaro
Chapter Eleven
Night, Calm Night
I woke, and we were sailing on
As in a gentle weather:
'Twas night, calm night, the Moon was high;
The dead men stood together.
I.
Dagashi was born under a poor sign.
His father died the night he was conceived.
But his mother lived, and loved him.
When Dagashi was three months old, he was taken by a kitsune. Some time afterward, as the kitsune carried the bundled infant westward, Dagashi's mother was killed while pretending to protect the item in Dagashi's sleeping-crate – a convincing likeness of Dagashi until the blankets began to smolder, at which point, without any witness, the kitsune enchantment failed and the Dagashi impostor reverted into a large radish.
The kitsune cared for Dagashi in the mountains, and brought him to the care of the monks of the sprawling Enryaku-ji complex in the West, and there Dagashi was so secret that not even the Kazaana could find him.
II.
Shippou spent the next decade learning military tactics in Suruga, learning ninja tactics in Ise, and spying on affairs in Owari, and when he found himself able to pass for a human for days at a time without strain, he went by the name Jubei, and his knowledge of regional politics was sufficient that he felt he could impersonate any number of high-ranking generals if the proper opportunity arose.
This opportunity arose in 1562, when Akechi Mitsuhide was driven off the field of battle by cavalry, and Jubei, a common spearman, followed chase. In a thicket, he sliced through the general's attackers, and found Akechi dismounted and run through.
Shippou took the horse, the appearance, and the name of Akechi Mitsuhide.
III.
Dagashi's life on Mount Hiei was mostly uneventful, but for the annual visits of General Akechi. There was no clear purpose for these visits, but it was generally understood that Akechi was interested in the temple complex. As it was not clear yet if Akechi saw the monks as allies to be bribed or enemies to be sized up, his reception was perfunctory and cold. Akechi's interest in Dagashi was also questioned. At first, Dagashi was mistrusted as a potential spy, but as years went on it was clear that Dagashi was either Akechi's bastard child or his love interest, and no more attention was paid.
In the year 1571, Dagashi turned 19 years old, and Jubei told him his real name was Shippou and a lot of other things.
He did not believe Shippou.
"This, this Naraku, what does he want?"
"Everything."
"And you've been protecting me all this time. Where do you go when you're not here?"
"Spying. Finding out what Naraku is doing."
"And what is he doing?"
"Killing everyone. And he knows now. Somehow, he figured out you're still alive. He knows who you are. And he's coming. He's coming to Kyoto and he's going to burn this entire mountain down just to get to you."
"With what army?"
"The army of Oda Nobunaga."
Dagashi blinked.
"No. . ."
"You've heard it enough. Oda has demonic powers. How else could he live through so many assassination attempts, and weave his way through so many battles? He is a demon. The greatest demon to ever befoul these lands. And he wants to kill you just because he can."
"That's absurd. He's made enough complaints against the yamabushi. We run Kyoto. He's after them, not me."
"For now, trust me, or just pretend to trust me. You will believe me when you see him kill every man and boy on this mountain. This is a personal vendetta, and that will be clear soon enough."
"So what would you have me do, Jubei? Just drop everything, run and hide, let the yamabushi burn?"
"No. We will run, indeed, but we will run away from Naraku just long enough so we can fight him on our own terms. I know he will send his strongest warrior after us. I can't stop her. But you can."
"Her?"
"The last demon-slayer, who became a demon herself, and man-slayer."
"And why her?"
"To finish what she started. She killed your mother, Dagashi. She'll kill you just as easily." He shook his head. "No, not as easily. You look so much like your father. She will falter. Not for very long, mind you, but she will falter."
"And what then, I kill her, and then Oda sends an army after me?"
"No, you must not kill her. You must save her. Purify her. Wipe her clean. And then she'll go back to Naraku, and she will steal his power, and all of this is undone, all in the blink of an eye. Two decades gone wrong, horribly wrong, will simply cease to be."
"So, basically, you're asking me to save the world."
Shippou smiled.
"Yeah. That's what we used to do."
IV.
Mount Hiei burned so completely and for so long that even so far as Edo it was not unusual to occasionally see plow horses shake off itchy coats of fine white ash. Sango had seen this, for she had killed and burned more than her share, but what she saw now was the Sagami River, and on its placid surface she saw the reflection of Miroku, who stood over her shoulder and wanted more than anything else to comfort her.
She threw Hiraikotsu at him.
The monk held up a hand, and the weapon bounced off the barrier shell and flew into the river.
"On my way here, a thought occurred to me," he said. "A great teacher told his student: 'Travel throughout this world, seeking Enlightenment. And if you should meet Buddha on the road, kill him.' The lesson being, the most encouraging truths are most likely to be false, and if you think you have reached the end of your journey, you have really only just started."
"To me it sounds like the advice of your teacher is to kill what you do not understand."
"That too. My teacher was named Sogen, whose school was in Enryaku-ji. I assume you were the one who killed him?"
"It is more likely than not," said Sango.
"And my mother, who I did not know, but who had the name Koharu?"
"Yes."
"And my father, who I did not know, but who had the name Miroku?"
She faltered.
"You did not kill him?"
"I . . . don't know. He died. I don't know if I killed him."
The monk considered this.
"Be it either case, I am not here for revenge. I am here to fight you, in hope that this battle will reveal something to you. For two decades you have been an executioner, killing men and women who could never oppose you at your level. See in me, if not an equal, at least a challenge."
She stood.
"You may retrieve your weapon if you wish," he said.
She looked to the river, then looked back at him.
"I really don't think it will affect the outcome," he said.
V.
His stamina was amazing for a human, but barely average for a demon. Physical exhaustion weakened his defenses, slowed his attacks, and allowed his spiritual powers to fade, and as hours passed the cuts and gashes added up, and not long before dawn he collapsed, and she threw her weight behind her sword and drove it into his chest, out his back, and an arm-length into the dirt beneath him.
"Did you . . . learn anything?" he gasped.
"I don't know . . ."
"My father . . . speaks to me . . . in my prayers . . . in my dreams. He says . . . he begs me . . . to save your soul."
"Houshi-sama . . ."
"Sango," he said, and it was Miroku's voice now, ghostly, sounding nothing like the voice of a man with a sword through his heart, for this monk bridged the world of the living and the world of the dead, and Miroku spoke to her directly.
"I'm so sorry . . ."
"Awake, Sango. Awake from this dream, realize it is a dream, and seize it. Take control of your fate. Make it as you wish."
"I want to make love to you right now," she said.
He made a sound that sounded like stifled laughter.
"I desire that very much, but I think it would be inappropriate at this time."
"Or you could grope me . . ."
"Focus, Sango."
"I can't bear it. You're the only one who could ever touch me and really make me feel it."
"What year is it now, Sango?"
"What year?"
"Yes."
"The year is 1571."
"Where I am, the night is two-thirds over; I suspect you will awake in 10 years. Please bear it. I will be here, even if you cannot hear me."
"I will pray," she said.
"That is good."
Sango prayed.