Butterflies on wind
Cave is dirty and damp, just as wasted wreckage of Tadatomo-sama’s rival and predecessor, Yamada Douma. He smiles with rotten teeth, muddied rags almost fine in light of single candle, and it takes all of Daitaro’s two-facedness and skill not to burst in laugh or roar as he sucks up to second most powerful shaman in Japan, one dragging Tadatomo-sama’s name through mud.
‘‘Humph...A fox’s child, no less? Haha. Is That Tadatomo so euphoric that he’s going senile or what?’‘ Douma laughs, and it takes all of his restraint not to punch him until his face is nothing but bloody mess, no matter the consequences. His rusty, screeching laugh, his matted hair and dirty fingernails, his eyes greedily shining at thought of demon’s son.
Douma is a fool, Tadatomo-sama always spoke, fool who can’t see beyond his own nose. As if his putrid, wasted power can compare to Tadatomo-sama’s knowledge and skill. As if his dirty demons can hope to stand against Imperial shikigami.
As if Daitaro would betray man who gave him everything because of some demon’s whelp. He will play this fool like child, will use his power and resources, ones idiot has been building up for years to try to sabotage Tadatomo-sama, and he will be savior and hero and bring glory to both his teacher and himself while Douma will rot ( and maybe Tadatomo-sama gets tired of stupid brat and throws him out, and then he and Douma can have each other. Mappa wouldn’t care at all, Daitaro knows, and if he got bored he could eat Douma’s liver without anybody being bothered).
‘‘Don’t fail me, Daitaro.’‘ Channel your anger, your hatred, make him think you are seeing Mappa instead of him.
‘‘Of course not. Monk Douma’‘ Words still make him feel like traitor.
They are writing scrolls and charms as Daitaro plans to steal talismans that would give him control over Douma’s spirits, control that almost seems like what Mappa can do by will alone.
There are others beside him and Mappa, senior onmyoji with decades of experience, and yet they are so far below them as peasants are below nobles, for all he and Mappa are children and sitting in last row (soon, if gods bless him, it will be just him).
Accidental glance makes his eyes narrow as blinding surprise crosses his mind. What the hell? Has Tadatomo-sama taught him to write too? His blood boils at thought of Mappa receiving such basic and yet intimate lessons from his teacher.
‘‘...It wasn’t Tadatomo-sama . believe it or not, it was an oni I learnt this from.’‘ Mappa’s voice cuts quietly through air, soft and cold like leaf on winter breeze. For second Daitaro is humming before surprise hits him like ox, and he turns, eyes wide and fingers bent to Mappa, still writing without passion or care.
Words flow from Mappa, like icicles and needle upon Daitaro’s earbuds.
Oni.
Power to read minds.
Abandon your plan before he finds out.
They are on bridge, over small stream, long leaves gently draping over them, swaying on wind. Daitaro leans, stunned and sprawled out, while Mappa still stands prim and proper, cold and bored, as if he hasn’t just revealed great secrets, as if he hasn’t just spoken tale of tragedy and death and fire and loss and blood and pain. Without hint of emotion he talked about his mother burning to death, about smashing Densen Hoshi’s brain at age of five, about Ohachiyo leaving.
he isn’t sure what to say. It is great thing, secret like no other, monumental, life changing tragedy Mappa shared with Daitaro as if talking about weather. Daitaro finds himself grateful and wary, and talking about his birthmark and thinking about all great stuff Tadatomo-sama did for him which is same as talking to Mappa, as if to justify himself. Mappa doesn’t seem to care, just as he doesn’t care about Daitaro being traitor (who knows how many times he heard such thoughts,over and over).
‘‘Whether their intentions are good or bad, the truth is, all people live only for themselves.’‘ Mappa talks, and speaks of wisdom that is hard to earn and harder to bear, and of past that should have reduced him to tears. And Mappa is so cold and experienced and Daitaro doesn’t believe he sees himself as human person for all his claims that his mother wasn’t demon, and Daitaro actually has to remind himself that yes, Mappa is his age or possibly even younger.
But mountains were once young too, Daitaro thinks and knows Mappa was born to be ancient. He is first snowflake of ice age, first drop of world wide flood, first ember of fire that shall consume world, first spark of star that shall be heart of galaxy.
And he knows that one day, when all people have fallen and turned to dust, when empires and kingdoms are forgotten and languages and cultures dead, when heart of Earth stops pulsing and stars are snuffed out, that when world is lost to fire and ice and dark and death, Mappa Douji will be last one left standing in oblivion, cold and uncaring and bored.
‘‘If so, then I want to transcend humanity. Someday, after I surpass Tadatomo-sama, I’d like to see the world ahead. And be free, no matter where I go. Even if that made God and Buddha turn against me.’‘ And Mappa raises his hand, reaches towards sky as if he wants to rip Sun from sky, and for first time Daitaro sees small smile grace his lips, his eyes burning with spark of that mad conviction he saw that first night when nude Mappa walked to his room, and it may seem strange and unnerving to see Mappa passionate and living and almost-soft, and he is as beautiful and pure and unsullied like budding of first spring flower, like first drop of dew and light of dawn, like first star and breath of life.
Daitaro should be scared, and is bit, because Mappa knows his secret and not even his mind is safe, and what if in some dark hour of deep night Mappa whispers his plan during lovemaking?
Part of him is angry, should be angry, that Mappa dares compare himself to Tadatomo-sama, dares dream of surpassing him.
Part of Daitaro is honored, should be honored, because Mappa deigned to get this close with him, share something so personal and show what might be some sort of emotion despite...despite everything.
He should be surprised, and partly is, because this power and desire and past is not what he should have expected, what he could have expected, and Mappa actually claims to be mortal (Daitaro saw him bruise and bleed but still it didn’t feel right, to think of Mappa as something as fragile and simple as human)
But most of all...
‘‘Haha! I had no idea you were this amusing, Mappa Douji! Nice! Then let me join in your quest.’‘ Mappa says nothing, face blank and empty, but Daitaro doesn’t care as this is more than he could have expected of Mappa ever.
Not so far away-but it still feels so-Tadatomo and Douma wait.
Mappa claims to be neutral and uninterested in taking sides, which is why he doesn’t care about tattling traitor like daitaro (and he should, Tadatomo-sama should punish him for this is how Daitaro thanks him after everything). Were it somebody else, Daitaro would have scoffed and mocked them (if it wasn’t some greater noble, then he would have bowed and smiled and agreed).
Neutrality is lie. Every action, even if it seems like nothing, is taking of a side. Every choice places you under somebody else’s dominion, every act puts you in somebody’s debt, and trying to be neutral simply means trying to avoid getting harmed in fight and going along with winners. Neutrality is coward’s lie they tell themselves to feel better at night.
But Mappa? Mappa is neutral in same way earth and water take no sides. Everybody walks over earth and everybody drinks water, and everybody stomps on Mappa and uses him in some way. And just as everybody dies when earth shakes and everybody drowns when water pours, Mappa knows everybody’s secrets (some day, he will be strong enough to pierce even Tadatomo-sama’s mind and scoops up what it holds inside) and no matter how strong all die when Mappa’s onis feast.
Thing with fighting Mappa, Daitaro decides, is that you can’t win because he isn’t playing along. He simply doesn’t care enough for him to bother competing against somebody, and how do you win against somebody whose reaction to combat offer would be to continue dusting inkpots-Mappa of all people would be last to care about rumors and honor and bravery and slander.
Daitaro is half-convinced that Mappa bleeds because it’s expected to, and that if Daitaro managed somehow to stab him without Mappa or his power noticing his skin wouldn’t even be scratched.
No, Mappa doesn’t fight because he sees nothing in this world worth victory or nothing to be seen as prize. He simply watches without notice, knowing everything and keeping all secrets. When Daitaro dies, he expects to see Mappa as scribe and witness of King of Hell.
He doesn’t dare consider what would happen if Mappa cared about something.
This Daitaro doesn’t think of when Mappa is near.
Mappa claims that his mother wasn’t kitsune, that he isn’t demon child, that oni Ohachiyo confirmed to him that his mother wasn’t fox. But Daitaro thinks, wouldn’t demon protect another demon? Or maybe Ohachiyo wasn’t all that informed-after all, he claimed that demons never harm humans too.
Mappa can control demons, speak to them, hold hundred oni in his body. Mappa doesn’t speak like human, behave like one, think like one. His voice, his face, each his movement is lacking any semblance of human feelings, as if they died in fire that took his home. He doesn’t care about life, about prestige, about connections.
Daitaro isn’t sure if Mappa can properly feel. Not when Mappa refuses Tadtomo-sama’s love (bears silently what happens at night). And just how could human child eat soul of demon and take his power.
Humans sometimes become demons after death. Is it possible for them to become ones during life? Did Ohachiyo’s rearing and his lessons and oni in his body taint Mappa’s soul? Did upon renaming him Ohachiyo steal something from Mappa? Did pain and sorrow of boy who used to be Mappa Douji, and dark thoughts of humans transform Mappa in something else, using up his passion and heart in process?
Was that woman, Asanoha, truly a simple shaman, or a true demon is disguise? Or perhaps father Mappa never knew, of which Asanoha never spoke, father of whom Mappa didn’t even think to ask before Daitaro did (and Mappa shrugged and answered never knew him, never needed him, never thought of him). Or did, as some old legends claim, Asanoha find a spirit child on her footstep, or carve child out of clay and wood and blood and ask demons to revive it?
He would like to be friends with Mappa, after everything is settled, but whenever he looks upon boy’s face he remembers old warnings about hungry ghosts and cunning kitsune and dark demons and something primal and instinctive in him screams.
Mappa, for all his faults, eats with proper etiquette, even if he just takes crumbs unless it’s Tadatomo-sama feeding him. Once, he brings him bread and rice and throws it in air.
‘‘Here! Eat as you like, no need for manners!’‘ And in blink of eye, Mappa jumps and catches and cradles food in his hands and sinks his teeth in it, madly gobbling it all up as if he is on brink on starvation, as if he doesn’t even notice taste, as if he could (would, had) eaten rats and corpses. It still doesn’t look right-his nails shouldn’t be blunt but claws, his teeth fangs and not molars and what you have
Daitaro laughs. Mappa could eat his throat and he wouldn’t stop smiling.
‘‘Why don’t you try to make allies at court?’‘
‘‘Why do you?’‘
‘‘Because they are powerful and can make your life easier, of course!’‘
‘‘Really? Can they stop rain, or make crops grow, or turn knives to dust, or build house overnight, or heal plagues?’‘
‘‘Don’t be silly Mappa-that’s stuff of fairy tales!’‘
‘‘That is power.’‘
‘‘Well, yeah, but nobles have different power, power over people, state us.’‘
‘‘Only as long as you listen to them.’‘
‘‘If you don’t listen your head will fly.’‘
‘‘Perhaps. It wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe theirs would.’‘
‘‘Well, yes, but don’t let anybody hear you saying that.’‘
‘‘It all boils down to war and fighting.’‘
‘‘You make them sound like animals.’‘
‘‘Please. Animals aren’t greedy or cruel.’‘
‘‘Bwahaha! That’s good one! But seriously don’t let them hear.’‘
‘‘But says we accept they have power over people. That power doesn’t always work. Not on ones not conditioned to serve.’‘
‘‘If some other country’s citizen killed noble there would be repercussions. maybe even war.’‘
‘‘And we return to it...What of bears?’‘
‘‘....What?’‘
‘‘How does that power fare against wild beasts, like for example, bear with rabies? Wouldn’t one able to stop even such creature have true power?’‘
‘‘Mappa Douji, do you really think you could kill bear with rabies?’‘
‘‘Maybe kill. Maybe calm down. Power isn’t only violence. That is such human way of seeing things.’‘
‘‘Do you believe you can achieve such power?’‘
Mappa says nothing. Daitaro looks at fragile, timid butterflies nesting on Mappa’s fingers and remembers hordes of demons, armies of oni crowding around Mappa on day Tadtomo-sama found him and thinks about possibility that he already received answer.
‘‘Momo-chan found herself lover.’‘ he gosssips, as he sometimes does. Mappa needs somebody to keep him up on importance of palace happenings.’‘Some samurai, not even thirty. She got quite lucky.’‘
‘‘Takeshi-sama, rich, boisterous, twenty five. Momo is quiet, scared and thirteen.’‘ They sit in silence before Daitaro coughs and leaves.
Mappa stares at floor, thinking of bruises on his shoulders, of fears fostering in Momo’s head and sick thoughts in Takeshi’s,of ...appointment he has tonight, or horrible old men rotting alive and ponders whether somebody would think of demons if oni tore certain samurai’s bowels out.
‘‘Do you like anybody, Mappa Douji?’‘ It is foolish question, for Mappa Douji needs nobody, desires nobody, and has Tadatomo-sama, who is more worthy than gods.
‘‘Not really.’‘ Daitaro isn’t sure if mappa is answering to what Daitaro thought of, or liking in general.
‘‘Would you want to?’‘ Question is stupid but day is long and they have nothing better to do.
‘‘I don’t need to. I have no use for relationship. But if it didn’t hurt it wouldn’t be unwelcome.’‘ Mappa whispers, watching petals fall and fall.
‘‘And does somebody like you? Did you catch anything?’‘ Daitaro spoke, venom almost gone from his voice as memory of Tadatomo-sama having Mappa lick honey from his fingers arose. Mappa’s face remained as impassive as it always was.
‘‘The cook’s helper saw me trying robes for ceremony three days ago and thought I was cute and hopes to catch time to talk with me when I’m alone. One guy finds me interesting and has been trying to talk with me for month but he is too nervous.’‘
‘‘Oh?’‘ Daitaro’s smile rises at juicy gossip. ‘‘And what do you think of them?’‘
‘‘She is hardworking but wants man who cares for court struggles. He writes nice poems but he is nervous about everything, especially spirits.’‘
‘‘Their families?’‘
‘‘Unimportant to me. To you, they are both lowborn.’‘
‘‘Pfff.’‘ Daitaro sighs. ‘‘Only reason why you should meddle with servants is if you want some quick encounter. And poets are nice but useless if they aren’t nobles.’‘ There should be only one scheming bastard in relationship.And poetry is beautiful and highly valued by court which is why you should always praise it, but Daitaro cannot understand what good they do to world ( it is only with Mappa that he is so honest which makes sense-why pretend when he can read minds).
‘‘There is more to relationship than status and sex.’‘ Daitaro chokes at word.
‘‘Mappa Douji! You are never blatant in polite company! You should be subtle and indirect!’‘ Same argument, rehashed so many times.
‘‘But I don’t want to advance at court, so I don’t have to bother with coating words to pretend they are something else when everybody sees it.’‘Mappa, thankfully, never points out profanities Daitaro spews when he gets angry.
‘‘Well, it must be great having somebody love you.’‘ This time bitterness escaped his voice. When you had strange powers and no birthmark.
‘‘That noble you talked to last week thinks you have good way with words, and she found you fun. And that one samurai who is always sneaking around thinks you are handsome and exciting.’‘ Said noblewoman was very jealous person, and samurai liked to fight, but it wasn’t Mappa’s place to fix everybody’s problems.
‘‘Shut up.’‘ Daitaro spat out as his palms folded in fists, and he almost broke his teeth by gritting over each other. ‘‘Don’t be so cruel. Not when you are so lucky.’‘ Memory rose, of one time Tadatomo-sama took Mappa on his lap.
It was silent, and sharp, and faster than wind. Mappa was in front of him, cold and empty save for wild, burning eyes, and he caught Daitaro’s arms with force that would shame bear, holding him in place as if Daitaro was but a leaf. Their lips were breath away.
Mappa’s sleeves were rolled up, exposing his thin arms and their bruises, and rim of his robes was lowered over his shoulders, showing numerous, bloody bites, purple black like plums. And then daitaro felt something bitter and deep and hot enter his mind, violate it beyond description..
Small. So small. So small as he is held down, bound by spirit and hands, things inside him sealed and kept down and controlled by charms, things that were only remnant of his friend, things that were only ones protecting him, so small as that cruel, self-righetous bastard forces him and he can do nothing and everybody speaks of honor... Then let them have it! Let them be fucked by that old shit, let them, let them
Mappa’s hold loosens, and Daitaro sees small demons manifest and crawl over him, purple-grey-transparent with claws and teeth and buglike eyes and otherworldly shrieks and runs as Mappa watches with his oni.
Daitaro runs. He has ceremony and plan to prepare for.
Ceremony starts and stops.
Spirits comes and tadatomo-sama stands in position.
Daitaro dies with fading, worried smile on lips, surprise and betrayal in eyes and katana in abdomen.
Mappa screams.
City burns.