A pity to pluck,
A pity to pass...
Ah, violet!
―Naojo
Since the sudden downpour, the ethereal mist had nestled themselves upon the trees.
From his view by the window, the trees were like ghostly giants standing watch upon the dark mountain. They were like the things that Shinpachi could see – the odd and the beautiful, the primitive and incomprehensible, of the otherworldly realm. His eyesight may be poor, but they compensated him with the ability to see things that others can't.
Shinpachi once again closed his eyes, and tried to remember the image of the woman he saw last night. In the midst of the assaulting wind, he saw the specter of a beautiful woman beside the Shiroyasha. She had long, lilac hair with skin that glowed like the moon. At that moment, he felt her quiet presence – concealed yet powerful – akin to a still river that hid an abyss beneath.
But before Shinpachi could fully open his eyes to get a good look, she'd disappeared along with the wind. The one standing beside Gin-san was once again his wife.
As much as Shinpachi wanted to ignore what he saw, other strange events happened last night too. First was the dark, lightless house. Not lighting a fire in the evening during autumn and winter was utter foolishness because the cold killed people in their sleep. So it was unexpected of the woman, who supposedly survived alone for months, to commit such a mistake. Second was the sweet fragrance that Kagura noticed. It was the sudden smell of springtime flowers in late autumn – truly strange enough to even catch Kagura by surprise. And lastly, was the conversation he overheard between Gin-san and their coachman as he was boarding the carriage. He heard the coachman say something about a wisteria maiden and the fragrance.
Sadly, he missed his chance to ask the old man about it. They were all exhausted last night, and the latter had already left at first light to attend to his duties in Edo.
Shinpachi hoped that the Shiroyasha wasn't in any sort of trouble. His mother told him tales of malevolent spirits pretending to be human in order to marry one. None of those stories ever ended well.
So, they needed to keep him safe no matter what and ensure his continued safety now that he is starting to settle into his quiet life in the mountains. No more wars for him, he deserved all the rest he could get.
The legendary samurai was not privy to the Yorozuya's latter mission of ensuring his safety, but he didn't need to.
He heard loud, rapid knocks on his door, breaking the spell of last night's memories. The door slid open and revealed Kagura – all dressed and ready to leave.
"Oi, time to get ready, Pachi."
Shinpachi frowned. "I already finished packing up, Kagura-chan."
"Alright! I can't wait to explore Bushu! But I want to have breakfast first!" Kagura said, making Shinpachi wonder how she had the energy to explore in such bad weather.
She dashed for the stairs that led to the inn's dining area, her footsteps against the floorboards fading away.
Shinpachi sighed. For someone who hasn't seen the entire inn, she seemed confident of where she was going. Last night, Ikumatsu immediately brought them to their rooms and was thoughtful enough to serve their dinner there. She said that they should rest easy for the day.
Shinpachi stood up and followed Kagura. He climbed down a rickety set of stairs at the other end of the hallway.
The inn was small, old, and quiet. The wooden walls absorbed the sound of the rain outside, and emitted the distinct scent of damp wood. There was the smell of food and smoke wafting from the room below, something which reminded him of home.
He could already hear Kagura chatting away with Ikumatsu. He saw her seated at the center of the small dining hall, chopsticks on each hand as Ikumatsu served her ramen. When the blond woman saw him, she greeted him with a smile.
"Ah, Shinpachi-san, you're awake. You were just in time for breakfast," she said.
She was a beautiful middle-aged woman in her thirties, who wore a loose ponytail and white traditional chef's attire. She exuded the aura of simplicity and self-assurance that oddly felt calming to those around her too.
Shinpachi greeted her back. He was already in the last steps where he got a full view of the dining area. There were tatami mats, five low tables around the small space, shoji windows leading to the veranda and…
Shinpachi froze.
On the far end of the room was a painting displayed on a hanging scroll. Depicted with delicate linework and colors, was a woman dressed in flowing white kimono, a head ornament of springtime flowers, and a seemingly endless lilac hair that pooled at her feet along with her dress. With her right hand, she held a branch of wisteria that was in bloom.
It was as if the woman Shinpachi saw last night had leapt into the painting for him to see.
Shinpachi felt chills run down his spine.
'This is much too eerie,' he thought as he stepped down the stairs. His eyes were still fixated on the woman.
"It seems like the painting caught your eye."
Shinpachi faced Ikumatsu who had taken notice of his reaction to her inn's new decoration – a souvenir from her husband's recent travels. She walked up beside him and she, too, studied the display.
"She is the so-called Wisteria Maiden, from a legend that supposedly originated from the town of Ōtsu, the home of renowned artists. She was just one of the many displays of a shop day, she caught the eye of a passing young samurai. The young man stopped for a moment, and admired the painting with so much intent. The maiden, similarly captivated by him, leapt out of the painting. She wrote him letters and letters, but all went unanswered. The young man had already married another. Heartbroken, she returns to the painting where we see her in her last pose."
Shinpachi maintained his skepticism, not for the story, but the Wisteria Maiden itself.
"Surely, you don't mean to say that this is the original painting…" he commented.
Ikumatsu laughed. "No, of course not. Who knows where the real one is now, supposing it was ever true. But I guess that there might be some truth to the story."
The other boy's interest was piqued yet again.
"You see, there's a less heard version of the legend of the Wisteria Maiden, one that originated from our village itself."
"You mean here, in Bushu?"
The blond woman nodded.
"Do you know why the maiden was able to come to life? They say that it's because the pigment used to paint her was harvested from a magical wisteria tree. That tree supposedly came from this mountain. Our village is surrounded by ancient forests – untouched for centuries. One can only imagine the other kinds of life that lived within it. One such life was a yokai that inhabited an old wisteria. She has the appearance of a young maiden with flowing hair and the color of wisteria flowers. Despite her young appearance, she is said to have been living for centuries. She yearns for human love due to her loneliness. When a traveling artisan came across her magnificent tree and harvested parts of it to make into pigment, her spirit was also taken away, giving life to the Wisteria Maiden."
"And then, what happened in the version of Bushu?"
Ikumatsu raised her eyebrows at him. "You're starting to make me think I can make for a decent storyteller. So, anyway, unlike the version from Ōtsu, she was unable to return to the painting. With grief, her soul darkened and she became an evil spirit that cursed those around her with bad luck. Many believe that's what happened to this town.
Around ten years ago, a terrible harvest struck our village. We could not understand how it happened at all. We believed that our land was fertile, we never did anything unusual. There was never any drought either, and the rains constantly watered our fields. It was as if our crops decided to just stop producing anything. However, one day, a wandering monk happened to pass by. After investigating our land, he told us that a malevolent spirit had returned to the mountain. Her arrival had rendered our crops infertile. The village chief immediately decided that it was all because of the maiden yokai in the nearby mountain, whose story had just started to circulate around that time. And so, to drive her away, they cut down every wisteria tree they found. It was a terrible sight to see those beautiful trees fall on the ground. But the year after that, our harvest was bountiful again."
"So…since then, the villagers made sure that no wisteria trees were alive?"
"Mm. That's right. Well, except for one…I heard that Gin-san fought tooth and nail to keep the old wisteria tree at the back of his house. The villagers eventually let it slide and forgot about it. He truly is a peculiar man, he fears nothing." Ikumatsu laughed.
Shinpachi gave a nervous chuckle. "Wouldn't that mean that he's at risk from the curse of the wisteria maiden?"
The woman beside him pinched her chin in deep thought. "Other records say that when the wisteria maiden takes interest in a man, she causes all of his loved ones to die from incurable illness so that he will be left alone for hers to take. But thankfully, Gin-san's wife has remained healthy since she arrived five years ago. Either the wisteria maiden isn't true or that even a wicked spirit finds Gin-san's wavy hair offputting."
Shinpachi felt a little relieved. But why did he still feel uneasy?
Ikumatsu, who took a pause, spoke again as if trying to remember more things about the legend for the curious young man.
"Hmmm. Nevertheless, my husband insists that what we know about the wisteria maiden may be wrong. But he doesn't know for sure yet. He's trying to study many things in his travels, after all."
Shinpachi was suddenly reminded that they haven't met Ikumatsu's husband yet, who Gin-san said was his friend.
"That reminds me, your husband doesn't seem to be around…We would like to give our regards on behalf of Gin-san who sent us here."
Ikumatsu smiled at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry if he isn't around at the moment. He travels a lot– he's a traveling monk. He and Gin-san fought together in the war years ago. But all the death and carnage became too much for my husband, eventually causing him to leave and renounce violence."
"Oh, you shouldn't apologize, Ikumatsu-san. The war hasn't been easy for any of us, but I can imagine how it must be so much worse for the samurai who had to fight everyday for our sake…"
He felt her hand pat his head.
"All their sacrifices were never in vain, especially now that the war is over. Come on, you should have your breakfast already," Ikumatsu said, leading them back to the table.
But as Shinpachi walked, he could not let go of the feeling of unease in his chest. The woman he saw last night and the story of the wisteria maiden made too much of a coincidence to ignore.
And so, he stopped and bowed in apology to Ikumatsu.
"My sincere apologies, Ikumatsu-san. As much as I'd love for us to stay here, we need to be somewhere for an urgent matter. We would be back and try to bring Gin-san along, hopefully, to share a drink with your husband as well."
Then he quickly grabbed Kagura's hand who was still eating, causing her to yelp.
"Kagura-chan, we need to go."
She would have protested, but when she saw the serious look on her partner's face, she understood and went upstairs to get their bags.
Ikumatsu bid them farewell by the entrance. Shinpachi would apologize some more for their sudden leaving, but their mission called for urgency.
His mother always told him to never ignore his gut-feeling, especially when it came to the supernatural.
"Kagura-chan, we need to check on Gin-san. I don't know why but something tells me that he might be in trouble," Shinpachi told her as he donned his straw cloak and hat.
Kagura opened her parasol. They began to head towards the mountain path.
"Is it connected to the bandits who attacked us yesterday?"
He shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, it might be something else we hadn't been told about. Look, let's just go to his house, alright? I have a feeling that–"
Kagura stopped walking and knelt on the ground. Then, with a serious look on her face, she turned to him.
"Pachi, these are footprints coming from the top of the mountain. These are about the size of a grown man like Gin-chan's. Looks like we don't need to climb the mountain anymore, but just follow him to the village."
This is the longest I've gone without updating.
So sorry! After vacation, it was hard to find the right words to write. It's not as if I wasn't writing at all. In fact, I was writing so many times but the initial drafts didn't survive the quality check- for a lack of better word lol. So much also happened (my dog relapsed, niece visiting, school).
Anyway, this chapter is such a word vomit. A necessary word vomit, but a word vomit nonetheless. Such is the case when you're world building.
Thank you for reading everyone! Your support means so much.
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