Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei
"But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born."-Matthew, 26:24
Judas
-Mid July, 1908
"Asato, it's not that different from Japanese."
Aimi shut the book and lightly, affectionately thumped her second son on the head with it. A worn out copy of the Bible, written in Latin, had been passed down through the Tsuzuki family for generations; a gift from a Portuguese missionary risking life and limb to give it to his charges before being forcibly expelled from the country. Scribbled in the back cover were a few oral prayers. Takashi had taught them to Aimi, and she to Daiki and Ruka.
"The print's too tiny," Asato said.
Aimi swallowed a small feeling of dread. Not only were her son's eyes odd but she feared them possessed, as well. Unlike his siblings he showed no aptitude for any form of academics, but had an especial lack of talent for reading Scriptures. Added to the almost foregone conclusion that his true father was a demon…
"You've heard your father say it scores of times, Asato," she said. Both of them had managed to cease flinching whenever the topic of paternity came up. "You should know the pronunciation."
"Sorry."
"I know you are. I know this is frustrating for both of us. But let's just, please, try it again?" Her finger pressed against the cover underneath the Latin. ""Benedic Domine"."
"Benedic Domine."
"Good. "Nos et"."
"No set."
"Try it again."
"No-s-s et."
"That's better. "Hæc tua"."
"Can't I just say it in Japanese?"
Aimi sighed. "No."
"Why? Does God only speak Latin?"
As soon as the words left his mouth Asato anticipated a slap to the face. Aimi regarded him solemnly, and then a small smile made its way onto her face.
"No, I'm pretty sure God knows Japanese. To be honest, I'd prefer to pray in Japanese, too."
"Why don't you?"
"Because lots of people don't want us to say these things at all. And you've got to be careful about who knows that we say this. We don't live among very accepting neighbors."
Asato nodded.
"All right, I'll let you go now, if you do some translating for me." She smiled again at the crestfallen look on his face. "You should know this one by now, Asato, if you know your mother at all."
"The Ave?"
"Yes."
"But that one's easy," Asato said, looking slightly insulted.
"That one is my favorite," Aimi countered. "Of course, that's probably why it's so easy; you've heard me say it dozens of times." She stood, going for the small collection of figures in a dug out hole in the floor hidden underneath a tatami mat.
"Mom?"
"If it's so easy, we'll make it into an actual prayer." Aimi produced a small Maria Kannon figure, Mary expertly disguised as the bodhisattva save for a small cross carved onto the bottom of the statuette. Aimi sat behind her son and held the Maria Kannon in front of them. At her bidding Asato wrapped his hands around his mother's.
"Are you ready?"
Asato nodded uncertainly, squeezing the figure and Aimi's hands.
""Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum"."
"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee."
""Benedicta tu in mulieribus"."
"Blessed art thou among women," Asato said, growing into his confidence and settling comfortably against his mother, before acknowledging her heavily pregant belly and straightening up.
Aimi kissed the crown of Asato's head. ""Et benedictus fructus ventris tui Iesus"."
"And blessed is the fruit of thy womb—" Asato stopped as a sneeze came upon him; Aimi stiffled a laugh. "Jesus."
""Sancta Maria, Mater Dei"."
"Holy Mary, Mother of God."
""Ora pro nobis peccatoribus"."
Asato shifted, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in his skull. "P-pray for us sinners."
""Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae"."
"Now and at the hour of our death," Asato finished hurriedly.
"Amen."
"It is so!" Asato corwed, pleased with himself for the double translation.
"Next time I'm going to ask you to translate the Japanese into Latin," Aimi said, gently pushing her son off her. "All right now, get out of here. I know you're bored."
"Mom?"
"Yes?" She halted her attempt to stand up.
"When we pray…I feel strange."
"Strange?" She sat again, subconsciously clutching the Maria Kannon tighter.
"My head hurts."
"You don't worry about that, Asato," Aimi said firmly. "Hear me? Don't worry about that at all."
"Mom?" Asato intoned nervously, seeing her face pale.
"You are going to have to ignore any pain, Asato. It is extremely important that you obey me on this one. Do you understand?"
"But why…"
"Do you understand?"
"Mom!"
Aimi immediately released the arm she had seized. A sudden fit of remorse swept over her as Asato's terrified face appeared in her vision.
"I…I'm sorry," Aimi said weakly. "But you cannot allow yourself to be deterred from praying, Asato. It's extemely important that you obey me on this one."
"Y-yes," Asato said, eyes wide.
Aimi reached out again to take Asato by the arms. She pulled him as close to her as she could and kissed his forehead, before enveloping him in an embrace and gently laying his head against her womb.
"It's kicking," Asato said wondrously, feeling an unborn sibling's kick for the first time, having been too young to remember Hideyoshi and Hiroto in utero.
"Do you know how happy I am to have you, Asato?" Aimi said, stroking his hair. "It makes me so happy to love my children."
"Even when they're bad?"
"More so then. When they're misbehaving or upset, you start looking forward to the time when they'll smile again, and it'll make you that much happier when they do." She picked up a strand of hair and traced his cheek with it. "I know it isn't easy for you here, so it makes me very happy when I see you smile, when you and Ruka are playing with the horses, or when you see a sweet shop…you keep smiling for me, okay? Just keep smiling and praying for me."
"Okay," Asato said automatically, still intensely focused on trying to feel another kick from his sibling.
Aimi laughed, sensing his concentation wondering, and pushed him upright. "Now, help your mother get up, okay? There we go…" She rose to her feet, her hand in her son's. "All right, then, get going. Go play."
"Abe Maria…no, it's Ave Maria, grasia…grazia…no…aw, shoot."
Aimi was a seasoned teacher and if she said she wanted her charge to learn the Latin, he had better well learn the Latin. Not that she would punish them—Asato couldn't remember his mother ever raising a hand to one of her children—but her looks of vague disappointment were enough to send a child into the pits of shame.
But it was too hard to concentrate in the house; Daiki would learn that Asato was studying and believe his twelve years made him a veritable master at the task of theology, which in turn would make Asato run away while covering his ears and shouting nonsense to drown out his brother. After that the twins would join in Daiki's chase, causing a ruckus that would draw Ruka out of her dancing practice to yell at them. Tomoko and Emiko only had four hands for five children and fellow servants rarely willingly came to their aid. The whole affair would culminate in Takashi yelling and Ruka bursting into furious tears that they had embarrassed her in front of her instructor. It simply wasn't worth it.
"Gratia, there were go," he said triumphantly, surveying the foreign words he had scratched into the dirt with a stick in an effort to help him pronounce them. "Okay then, purena…no, pulurena…p-plena."
"Whatcha doing, Asato-oni?"
Asato jumped at the sound of a mocking voice behind him. His foot reached out to scuff the letters out of the ground, but a rough hand grabbed his arm and yanked him away from his study guide.
"It's nothing," Asato said, looking away.
"Don't look like nothing."
"It looks foreign," another accused, ripping the stick out of Asato's hand and poking him with it.
"It's nothing." Asato jerked his arm away from the stick only to have it follow him, and this time change to an assault on his head. "Stop it."
"It's demon writing!" a third piped up, laughing.
"It is not!" Asato yelped, flustered. "It's Latin."
"Which means "demon"," the first informed his companions.
"It does not! Stop hitting me!"
"My dad says for'ners write like this," the third one said. "Are you a for'ner, Asato-oni?"
"His dad is," a fourth said.
"He is not!" Asato yelled, unable to remove the uncertain waver in his voice.
"So he's a foreign demon," the second reasoned, rapping the stick viciously against Asato's leg.
"Betcha he's a Christian, too."
"So what if I am?" Asato demanded before he thought.
"You hear that? Asato-oni's a Christian!"
"You know what they do to Christians?" the third one directed at Asato. "My dad says they kick 'em out of Japan. And if they don't go…" He sliced his hand across his neck.
"Not no more," Asato said moodily, red-faced with shame at himself and fear. "Not since Meiji-tennou."
"They still do the same thing to demons," the first one said.
Asato fended off a blow to the face from the stick. Sensing what was to happen next he turned and ran.
The first rock was a small pebble that landed in the middle of his back; the second a slightly larger rock that hit the crook of his shoulder. Covering the back of his neck and head with his hands, he hunched over and ran faster. Footfall was following him, as were dozens of more stones picked up along the way.
He tripped and fell on his stomach. The skin of his knee ripped open and a barrage of rocks rained down on his back. Managing to drag himself to his feet he took off again, this time stumbling. Laughter was added to running footsteps and stones.
"Honestly, who lets their children run around like little savages like that?" Aimi wondered aloud, seeing the distant outline of a group of children. She swayed and put a steadying hand on her stomach. "I swear, baby, if it weren't for the business I'd insist we leave. I'm worried about your brother as it is; those neighbordhood boys are so terrible to him…" She sighed as she felt another kick. "Let's just pray there's nothing wrong with you when you're born."
"Mom!"
"Asato?"
A blurry image of her bruised and bleeding third-born flashed in front of her vision before he disappeared behind her and hid his face in her legs.
"Asato, what's wrong?"
"I told them!" he wailed into her kimono. "I told them about us. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but it just…it just slipped out, and—!"
Aimi let out a small cry of surprised as a rock struck her leg. Instinctively she covered her belly with one arm while shielding her son with the other.
"Get away from my son!" she screeched at the nearing group of boys, more added to their number since the onslaught began. A few of the younger fell back, still fearing authority even if it came in the form of the adult world's pariah. "How dare you touch my child?"
It took what seemed like a small forever for the world to move again, for Asato to find himself hiding against Aimi as she crouched on the ground, shielding him from the storm of stones raining down on them.
"Mom, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to tell them, I didn't, I didn't…"
"Asato…Asato, listen to me." Aimi half-covered his face with her hand, wincing at every rock that landed. "You go get help; go down to the station, get your father…anyone…"
"Mom…"
"Go! Just go!"
"Mom!"
Aimi's hands grabbed his arms and roughly pushed him away from her; he stumbled and fell, scrambling to his feet as he saw a few break off from the herd after him. One grabbed his ankle and he nearly fell again; he kicked out and caught his attacker in the face, instantly knocking two teeth out.
He ran, yelling, for his siblings, for the servants, until all their names jumbled together into an incoherent ball of screams, fading from the town's earshot as he ran blindly, tears in his eyes and obscuring his vision. Someone was grabbing his arm and he jerked away, sprinting off in the other direction. Someone was calling his name but he couldn't hear it over the shouting and the soft thuds of rocks landing on skin and dirt.
There were reeds now, slowing his run. Or was that the burning sensation in his legs? The sky was dark and a film of sticky water had settled permanently in his eyes; he couldn't see anything.
Were they not tired? Were they not blinded? Was there something wrong with him, that he was lagging and they were not?
He didn't know, never would find out what was his undoing. All he knew was that he tripped out of the sea of reeds and couldn't rise again. It was raining from the sky. Not water; that was raining from his face. It felt like hail, like the descriptions of hail Takashi remembered from school in England.
"Woe to that man," Takashi's voice said in his ear, all that was clearly audible to Asato, resting comfortably on the muffled shouts and jeers like a boat on the waves, "who betrays…"
Asato covered his eyes.