Yokai

The night was alive. Verdant grass was slick with dew. A crunch of sticks under foot. The breeze gently flowed through the leaves. Mitikori Kotoba strained his ears for any sounds. Nervousness sped his heart rate. Then the air stopped. The figure in front of Mitikori stopped. The grass spread as he lowered his body to the ground. 

“It’s fresh.” The familiar voice of Master Hayato Nagashi calmed the young Mitikori. He produced the sake his master had requested. Master Nagashi took the powerful smelling drink and tasted a little. His resulting smile meant Mitikori had done well. “This is strong, Kotoba. Perhaps when this is done, your brothers would like some as well.” Mitikori only nodded respectfully in response. 

The two were reaching the end of the lush grasses. A narrow red bridge connected the rocky plateau they now stood on with the stone steps that led further up the mountain. It would be a steep climb to the lonesome monastery. 

Past the bridge, the stone steps became more vertical. Each stone was shallower and higher than the last. Mitikori clung to the granite, his palms flat on the stone. His fingertips tried to dig into the hard rock for a grip, but it was getting more and more difficult. Master Nagashi must have noticed because he called back to the young boy, 

“Ishinji isn’t much further now. The monks make this trek every morning for prayers. Must explain why they’re so moody in the day.” Mitikori just nodded and tried to focus on his master’s sandals. Thin pebbles on the steps threatened to send the young Ronshin to his death. Forty shaku straight down. 

Finally, the pair reached the entrance of the mountain monastery. A sun-bleached torii was their only host. Beyond, the grounds of the monastery lay completely abandoned. Ishinji usually had about forty monks. Well-known for their hostility to outsiders, it was unusual for anyone other than the anointed to make the mountain trek to the temple. The grounds were clear of any dirt or debris. Mitikori could see signs of meticulous cleaning. Even the gravel was neatly combed and layered. 

From the torii gate entrance, the main grounds stretched back about thirty shaku. On the left was the main temple. The roof was painted green in the traditional Tokiwa style. Chimes hung off the multilayered pagoda. The moist breeze blew them back and forth, creating a haunting melody. Across from the main temple was a dormitory built into the gray rocks. Some green wood stuck out from the rock, but most of the building had been carved rather than built. A single, smaller pagoda was straight back from the torii gate. It was unadorned with idols or chimes. The whole monastery had been built into a nest of high natural spires. They formed a ring around the buildings, blocking the powerful winds. Though it was dark, Mitikori could see the lights of the city far below. He shuddered, wishing for a moment to be back at the foot of the mighty hills. 

 Mitikori set down his wooden pack and began to prepare the snares his master had requested. Master Nagashi stood, surveying the mountains. 

“It must have come from the caves,” Master Nagashi finally concluded. 

“Why would it come here, master?” Mitikori finished setting out the long, barbed ropes. The twisted fiber had been in-layed with bits of glass and sharpened metal. To make sure it could still be held, Mitikori had carefully covered the middle with a thick bamboo wrap, the same kind used to make sushi. Though this dish was far more deadly. 

“Lonely monks atop a nearly impossible ascent? Seems like the perfect snack if you’ve got the stomach.” Mitikori couldn’t argue with his master’s assessment. He shivered in the wind. Hopefully, the beast was full already. 

Armed with the rope and sake, Mitikori followed his master into the larger of the two pagodas. Master Nagashi swung open the door to the empty hall. The great golden Buddha statue that would normally adorn the back of the room had fallen forward, crushing through the floor and splitting the room in two. Some candles still burned in the memorial hall, but others had fallen and been extinguished. Luckily, none had caught the old balm wood alight. Master Nagashi decided to venture into the left side of the room. His twin katanas were firmly at his side. He hadn’t even touched the sisters yet, deciding instead to keep his hands free for movement. The Ronshin teacher clambered over the fallen pillar with surprising agility. 

Mitikori, on the other hand, was not so graceful. The young boy tossed the rope up the horizontal pillar and tried to scamper up. His fingers could barely reach the top of the sloped wood. Mitikori stood back from the green-painted wood. He stashed the sake in his pack and once again charged the pillar. This time, with a leap, he reached the top. His slick palms tried to hold the smooth surface, but it was a losing battle. Slowly, the boy slid back down to the floor. 

“Master!” Mitikori called over the pillar. There was no response. Feeling a bit worried, Mitikori searched his pack for anything that could keep him on the pillar. There were bits of the barbed rope in a thick leather pouch. Mitikori carefully slid out the pieces. All together, they were only about one shaku. Not enough to use as a traditional rope. However, Mitikori took the bamboo wraps and a tanto and cut the bamboo into a palm-sized glove. Then he stuck the barbed rope to the bamboo. Climbing claws. Not nearly as professional as the climbing claws used by ninjas, but it should be enough to get him over the pillar. Mitikori shouldered his pack and charged the wall again. He leapt. The gloves dug into the fleshy wood. The young ronshin’s legs kicked wildly. He pulled his belly onto the pillar. With his body weight safely on the large wooden beam, the ronshin let out a long sigh. That was until he saw the giant scales below him. 

Mitikori’s brown eyes stared at the scales of a massive Uwabami, through the cracked wooden floor. They were patterned with the gray and brown of a northern mountain snake. Only forty times the size. The boy was paralyzed. Mitikori's vision started to gray from a lack of oxygen. His body started to slide back down when he saw Master Nagashi laughing. 

“Huh?” Croaked from the young boy’s throat. The Master drew Hikarimono, the shining sister of light, and stabbed the coil. Mitikori’s heart nearly bounded out of his chest. Then, Master Nagashi drew the katana back with a piece of shed skin on the end of it. 

“It’s molting, Kotoba.” 

“Of course,” Mitikori said, rolling over and hopping down to the floor boards below. He landed, peering carefully at the scales beneath the floor. The young ronshin was totally convinced the giant serpent wasn’t actually under the floor as well. 

“We got lucky. Now we know the size of our quarry. We also know he’s molted recently, meaning he’ll be a bit slower and more fleshy than usual.” 

“Of course.” Mitikori kept his eyes locked on the scales. 

“Relax, Kotoba, our snake is busy napping after a hard day of eating priests and hoarding stolen gold.” 

“Of course…” Mitikori skirted around the holes in the red balm-wood floor to his master’s side. 

“He likes the holes under the hall. Let's place our snares there.” Master Nagashi held the rope that Mitikori had tossed earlier. 

“Down there?” Mitikori couldn’t help but challenge the idea. 

“Beauty before age.” Master Nagashi gestured for the young boy to jump down. Mitikori stared at the scales. He prayed it would stay asleep. 

Mitikori dismounted into the belly of the scales. He found himself inside the frame of the great Uwabami. Not a happy thought. Hopefully, this was the only time he would be inside the great serpent. The head of the skin was open, meaning the serpent had gone south, likely to tunnel under the grounds outside the hall. All around, though, Mitikori saw signs of long paths that slithered under the wooden structure. The Uwabami must have been here for some time, waiting to strike when the time was right. There was a crunch of dry scales, as Master Nagashi landed behind the boy. The tunnel was wide, about three shaku in diameter. More than enough for both Mitikori and Master Nagashi to stand at their full height. 

“Place the traps here,” Master Nagashi commanded. He stood in the middle of the tunnel, just past where the duo had dropped down. The snake would come under their view before it reached the rope. Mitikori knelt down, putting the rope under a thin layer of dust to conceal it. Uwabami had terrible eyesight but a great sense of smell. The dirt would hopefully disguise the smell of humans on the rope. Just to be sure, Mitikori slid his pack off. He took some clay off the wall and a bit of water and made a small concoction. He poured the bowl over the rope. 

“Cautious,” Master Nagashi remarked. Master Nagashi took the sake from the boy and began to splash some around the tunnel. It smelled heavily of fruit. A rarity this far in the mountains. As he tossed it around, the master Ronshin took sips of the drink. He was more quiet now. The snake would be coming soon. Mitikori left his first trap and ventured further into the tunnels. He measured his steps. Three paces. The young boy started to lower the rope when he froze. The shadowy wall in front of him was moving. It wasn’t a wall. The slightly gray snake wiggled its way forward. Mitikori stepped back in a trance, away from the serpent. Its red eyes caught a bit of the light from above. They were glazed over from the excess feeding. Mitikori felt his chest expanding and closing in short, shallow gulps. He reached the edge of the hole and tried to wiggle himself into a small crevice. Master Nagashi set the sake down. Then he motioned for Mitikori to throw the barbed rope. The snake’s neck was right in view. At this close of a distance, Mitikori could easily get the rope between the scales and choke the beast out on its own blood. But he didn’t. Angering the great snake while trapped in a cave seemed like a death sentence. The young boy just stared as the snake wriggled past. 

“Throw it!” Master Nagashi shouted. Mitikori just held the bamboo wrapped rope. “Kotoba, throw the rope!” Nothing. There was no sensation in the young boy’s arms. Just a light strain from holding up the heavy fiber rope. A hiss began to rise from the great Uwabami. “Kotoba!” Master Nagashi tried one last time. The snake rolled over the second rope. The barbs dug into it, resulting in a great roar from the snake. It lunged forward at Master Nagashi. The ronshin threw the clay pot filled with liquor directly at the snake’s nose. The overwhelming aroma disoriented the beast, but now Mitikori was trapped. The huge body of the yokai thrashed back and forth, pinning Mitikori into his hole. The noise was like an earthquake. Mitikori tried his best to protect his head from the weight of the snake. There was a horrible screech, then the Uwabami charged down the tunnel, leaving Mitikori to fall to the earth in a heap. 

Time seemed to slow to an eternity. Mitikori lay on his chest, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out. He couldn’t put together a thought. Not even a semblance of reasoning as to why he froze. Slowly, his sanity returned. The paralysis in his muscles lifted, and Mitikori realized the depth of his mistake. The Uwabami had just molted. Its skin was soft and vulnerable. He had caught it unaware. If only he could have thrown the rope. Master Nagashi would need him. Mitikori stood. He glanced down the now dark path the snake had burrowed. His pack was overturned but still held strong. He quickly checked the inventory. Many of the supplies had been crushed by the snake, but the wet skins were unharmed. He had bait. And one rope. Now to find the snake. 

Mitikori followed the tunnel deep under the earth. It led to an obsidian well that the snake apparently tried and failed many times to breach. There were signs of broken skin on the smooth edges of the obsidian surface, as well as tooth marks. Whatever was inside this cistern, the Uwabami wanted very badly. Still, there were no signs of Master Nagashi. Mitikori left the well to journey further down the tunnels. The newly upheaved earth as his only guide in the dark. 

Finally, the darkness gave way to moonlight. Mitikori found himself standing in the great maw of a cliff side cave. Wind whipped and howled in the clay opening. Some loose vines hung down over the entrance, hiding the cave. Far below, Mitikori could see Aoi Lake. Its gentle waves shimmered with white light. It was a long way down. Mitikori reached up to the vines testing them. They held firm. He began to haul himself up the crooked grips when a voice caught him off guard. 

“Kotoba.” Mitikori stopped mid climb. His shoulders sank. “The snake is gone. Where are you going?” Master Nagashi stepped out with his arms crossed. Mitikori decided he was safer outside of his teacher’s reach. He curled his arm around one of the low branches to keep himself stable. 

“I was–,” Mitikori tried, “I was looking for you!” Master Nagashi raised one of his thick black eyebrows. 

“For someone so cautious, you certainly lack awareness.” 

“I’m sorry, master–,” 

“Sorry? Kotoba, when on the hunt, you don’t have a chance to be sorry. What if it had been one of your brothers down here instead? You hesitate like that, and they would be dead.” Master Nagashi’s tone was sharp, a direct contrast from his usual easy-going mood. Mitikori slowly lowered himself down from the vines. He reached the floor of the cave with his head down and his shoulders low. Master Nagashi came at him in the flurry. With one powerful shove of his palm, he pushed the teenage boy out into the void. Mitikori didn’t even have a moment to scream before he was falling. His legs slid out, and his back tensed for the inevitable impact. It never came. Master Nagashi grabbed the front of his jimbei with his free hand. Mitikori’s eyes were wide with terror as he hung above the great cliff. “You fear death, Kotoba. Ever since you were a boy, you were the slowest to try anything. You didn’t want to drown, so you never learned to swim. You had nightmares of falling, so you would never climb. You froze the first time you saw a Jatai and nearly let it strangle you. You will never live if you are so afraid of death.” With his lecture over, Master Nagashi hauled the pale boy back in. 

Mitikori could barely stand. His legs shook with the force of the wind he had just endured. Master Nagashi sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s go back.” 

“What about the Uwabami, Master?” 

“It’s long gone. A serpent won’t stay long if he knows he’s being hunted. After a feast, the Uwabami would only stay here until he was threatened or got hungry again.” Mitikori nodded sadly. Master Nagashi walked past him to the vines. “We’ll get some more experienced trackers to find it. For now, you should consider what you want to do, Kotoba.” 

“What do you mean, Master?” 

“This is your second trial. And again, you’ve failed. I cannot allow you to put yourself or others in danger by continuing.” Master Nagashi spoke as he began to haul himself up the vines. “It’s best if you find a less dangerous life.” 

“I have nowhere else to go?” Mitikori spoke out of turn. 

“I won’t allow you to endanger your brothers with your indecisiveness. I have seen your potential, but you won’t realize it.” Master Nagashi finished the climb. Now Mitikori was alone. He stood, looking at the long drop. Master Nagashi was right. However, Mitikori couldn’t admit defeat. 

The boy finished scaling the vine ladder. The grounds were now truly empty. Nothing stirred. Not even the wind could raise its voice. Master Nagashi collected a lantern for their descent back to the village. Mitikori, however, ventured to the much smaller pagoda. He tapped his sandaled feet on the limestone. It thudded with a wet, obtuse feeling. That is, until he got closer to the center of the pagoda. The rock beneath it became much heavier. A thick rock, not like the sandy limestone. Obsidian. Mitikori stared at the statue before him. One of the Buddha’s curved fingers was noticeably more shiny than the others. The young boy reached out to touch the faux gold finger. It bent with his weight. There was a click. Rocks popped, and the floor beneath Mitikori split. 

“Awamori!” The young boy exclaimed. Master Nagashi turned to check on his pupil. Before Mitikori was a stash of homemade island sake. No wonder the monastery was so secretive. In small piles around the Koji sake were gems from the southern islands. Mitikori picked up a sparkling red one. 

“Found something?” Master Nagashi questioned. 

“Master!” Mitikori suddenly shouted, “Now that the beast has been beaten, we can have all this sake for ourselves!” Mitikori grabbed some of the clay pots and climbed out of the cellar. Master Nagashi raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his student. “We shall have all this for ourselves!” As he walked, Mitikori made sure to splash the thick, sour-smelling drink onto the rocks below. Master Nagashi peered down into the cellar as Mitikori continued to prance about with the liquor. 

“You have a plan when the snake comes back?” 

“We’ll take it together. I’ll get the rope, and you stab it while I have it distracted.” 

“Overcorrection is an issue as well; a life as a merchant is better than death as a fool.” Master Nagashi stepped back as the great Uwabami surfaced. Drawn to the fragrance, the gluttonous Yokai had returned. It moved slowly across the wide grounds, flicking its tongue. Mitikori noted the deep gash on its neck when the last rope wound around it. As it drew near, Mitikori threw the first clay pot of liquor. It shattered, sending sticky smelling sake into the mountain air. The serpent licked the air hungrily. It was getting closer and closer. Mitikori could see its eyes wide with desire. The snake opened its mouth, revealing its long fangs and forked tongue. It would eat the young ronshin-to-be then the sake. 

Mitikori began to circle around the great Yokai as it adjusted itself to keep the boy directly in front of its mouth. It was moving slowly. A mix of recent molting and a full belly made the great snake’s eyes hazy and dull. Mitikori tossed another jar and watched the snake lunge at it. The great beast tore up the ground beneath the pot with its pointed nose alone. 

The snake was nearing Mitikori; only about four shaku remained between the teenage pupil and the head of the beast. Mitikori had circled around it, so the snake was curved. Its great belly was to his left, almost close enough to touch. And the head was coming around to bite. The snake curled its head back. Baring its fangs and tongue. Mitikori threw the last pot onto the snake itself. The head shot forth, burying its fangs into the soft, molting flesh. The Uwabami roared in pain, but Mitikori was already gone. He had charged into the circle created by the coiled snake. The barbed rope was still wrapped around the Uwabami’s neck, just below its ears. Without waiting to protect his hands, Mitikori grabbed the sharp rope and began to saw it up and down. His tugging caused the Uwabami to hiss in rage. It released the bite on its side and began to come around for another attack. With bleeding hands, Mitkori pulled his full weight back to try and tighten the rope into a noose. His bloody palms barely held on as his full weight went back. Then there was a snap. Mitikori stumbled back onto his tailbone. The rope had snapped. Now free, the Uwabami reared his head six shaku into the air. Its red eyes blinked with anger and its tongue was lashing the air in a fury. Mitikori stared at death looming down on him. He tried to scamper back on its bloody palms. The dust and rock dug into his bloody hands. It wouldn’t matter soon. The Uwabami lunged down at him. But Master Nagashi got it first. He plunged Kurahada, the sister of night, into the beast’s ruby red eyes. It trashed and cried in pain as the master Ronshin plunged Hikarimon into its ear. The blades flicked and shown as Master Nagashi took turns ramming them into the snake. Finally, it lay still on its side, tongue lulled out onto the dusty ground. Master Nagashi was covered in dark blood from the Yokai. He walked over to Mitikori with a smile. 

“Congratulations. You still have a long way to go, but I think you’ll make it as a Ronshin, Kotoba.” 

“Can we keep the awamori?” Mitikori said through gasping lungs.