I stifled a groan. Late summer in Iwagoto was festival season, which meant Chochin Machi would be especially crowded tonight. “Stay close,” I told the girl. “It’s not a big town, but we don’t want to be separated.”
I turned away and started walking down the rise, hearing her hurry after me. We crossed the arched bridge over the river, where lanterns flickered atop the posts every few feet, and stepped into the ethereal glow of Chochin Machi.
Yumeko’s eyes remained wide as we walked down the broad, dusty street that cut through the market district. Unlike many towns that closed their doors when the sun went down, Chochin Machi’s shops thrived after dark. Strings of lanterns swung overhead, sometimes blocking out the sky, while individual chochin flickered in the doorways of shops, inns and restaurants, indicating that they were open. Market stalls sold their wares in the streets, everything from food to sandals to miniature paper lanterns, popular souvenirs of Chochin Machi.
As we neared the center of town, the sound of drums, deep and booming, began echoing into the night once more. Trailing the crowd, we came upon a large open square, where a tall wooden platform draped in red and white stood in the center like a beacon. Atop the stage, two bare-chested men with strips of red cloth tied around their foreheads beat a pair of large wooden drums with sticks, sending thunderous notes reverberating through the crowd. Strings of lanterns hung overhead, converging on the platform roof and lighting up the square, while people danced in a circle around the drummers, clapping and stamping their feet to the music.
I bristled, and in my head, Hakaimono stirred, riled by all the noise and movement. I did not like crowds. Too many things could happen; emotions could surge out of control, fights could break out, people could panic. If the gathering here became a riot and Hakaimono took control, this festival would swiftly turn into a bloodbath.
I walked a little faster, hoping to get away from the lights and music and into the darkness where I was comfortable. Preoccupied with watching the crowd, I suddenly realized Yumeko was no longer beside me. Turning, I saw her at the edge of the square, gazing at the circle of dancers, bobbing in place as she did.
With a scowl, I doubled back and moved beside her, leaning close to be heard over the drums. “Yumeko. What are you doing?”
“Tatsumi-san!” She glanced at me, eyes bright, apparently unable to keep her body still. “Dance with me,” she implored, gesturing to the singing, stamping mob. “Teach me how.”
I recoiled. Dance was not part of my training, being seen as frivolous and impractical by my sensei. I could appreciate the art, and the skill required to play an instrument, but I knew nothing of dancing and had no desire to learn. “No.”
“Please, Tatsumi-san?” She took a step back, toward the edge of the circle. The boom of the drums rose into the air, punctuated by the claps of the crowd, and she smiled at me. “Just for a little while. It’ll be fun.”
Fun.I stifled a wince. Fun was a dangerous word among my sensei.Are we having fun yet, Tatsumi?Ichiro-san had often crooned, usually when I was struggling with a given task, and right before I was punished for my failure.Since you’re having so much fun, we’ll try the same thing tomorrow.“We don’t have time for this,” I said.
She wrinkled her nose, then sighed. “Tatsumi-san, have you ever heard the proverb of the kawauso river otter and the Jade Prophet?” she asked. “In this tale,” she went on before I could answer, “there was a kawauso who took nothing seriously, who turned everything into a game and brought joy and frivolity wherever he went. In his wake, people laughed, danced, sang and forgot about their troubles. But one day, the kawauso met the Jade Prophet, who told him,Life is suffering. Fun is a fleeting waste of time. You must stop these foolish games, and strive to work hard without fail. Only in suffering, dullness and boredom can you find true happiness.The kawauso took her advice to heart. He stopped all his games, worked himself to death and died a bitter old yokai with no friends, no family and no joy in his life.”
“I have never heard that proverb,” I said dubiously.
Yumeko grinned. “Of course not. It doesn’t exist.” And before I could stop her, she took three steps back and melted into the crowd of dancers.
I stared after her, fisting my hands at my side, as the girl joined the rippling throng. Overhead, the drums boomed, the crowd sang and Yumeko danced, swaying her body and clapping her hands to the music. Watching her, I found myself holding my breath, unable to look away. For just a moment, with her dark hair rippling about and her skin glowing under the lantern light, she was mesmerizing.
With a mental shake, I stalked along the edge of the square, keeping an eye on the girl as well as the people around her.Foolish, all my instincts told me.This is foolish. A waste of time.It had nothing to do with the mission nor did it bring us any closer to our objective. Do not let her distract you. She is important to the mission, nothing more.
As I circled after the girl, there was a flutter of something in the corner of my eye, like an enormous moth or bat. My hand shot up, snatching it from the air just before it hit the side of my head. Fragile, papery wings crumpled in my grip. I lowered my arm and opened my fingers to reveal a folded origami crane, the paper pitch-black and without design, lying crushed in the center of my palm.
Apprehension flickered.A summons? Now?Warily, I scanned the crowds, searching for hidden threats, for faces that I knew and gazes that lingered too long on me. I spotted nothing out of place, but a ripple of unease crept up my spine—not for me, but for the girl dancing in the crowd.
What should I do? I can’t take her with me. They’ll kill her. I glanced around, wondering if I could slip away and leave Yumeko here, if she’d be in the same place when I returned. But that was risky; I needed the girl to take me to the Steel Feather temple, and Yumeko seemed the type to wander after me if I simply disappeared. If she stumbled upon Shadow Clan business, they would show her no mercy.
Gazing around, I spotted a large square building on the corner of the street, blue curtains over the door welcoming in travelers. A ryokan.
That will have to do.
I stalked around the circle, found Yumeko in the sea of dancers and grabbed her by the arm. She jumped, gazing at me with large black eyes, and I felt an odd churning sensation in my stomach.
“Oh, Tatsumi-san.” She blinked, then gave me a somewhat wry smile. “Did you change your mind? Were you so moved by the proverb of the kawauso and the Jade Prophet that you decided to give fun a try?”
I glared at her. “That wasn’t even a real proverb.”
“But it can still teach a valuable lesson. You don’t want to become a mean old river otter, do you?”
Setting my jaw, I pulled her to the edge of the square, then nodded to the end of the street. “Do you see the building on the corner?” I asked in a furtive voice. “The one with the largest lantern and the blue curtains over the doorway?”
She gazed over the heads of the crowd. “The ryokan?”
So, she knew what an inn was, at least. Good. “Take these,” I said, and dropped a trio of silver tora into her open palm. The coins clinked against each other; three silver disks with the imprint of a snarling tiger in the center. “Go to the inn. Use the money to get us a room for the night. That should cover everything.”
She gazed at the money in her hands, then back up at me. “Where are you going?”
“I have...business to take care of. I won’t be long.”