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Family Matters 07

August Fires

Wind whispered in the Sakura's thick crown. A blossom tuft danced along a pale memorized cheek. Hair moved in the wind with the blossoms: wavy black and long braided grey. Eyes glittered in the dark: fiery gold and icy silver.
     ...The Sakurazukamori is to be my eyes and ears in the world, my guide to the realm of the living. He is the sword in the shadows, the invisible one to stand and watch those in the light, the final rectifier. He is not to see the intention, but to see reality and to act if it endangers the realm of the dead and the living. 
     They are Sumeragi. They are visible. They walk the light and live the lie. 
     The Sakurazukamori is invisible. He walks the shadows. He acts the truth. 
     They say he kills for a living... 
     The Sakura's mighty branches quivered in winds blowing in both realms. 
     ...but so do they... 

Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West) 
Sumeragi Family Residence 
August 16, 1992 

The evening was quiet when Subaru closed the fusuma separating his rooms from the main hall, shutting out the lights of the rest of the house. In the gloom lit only by the fires outside, he leaned against the wooden frame for a brief moment. His head was still spinning from the conversation with his grandmother; not that it had been anything but a soliloquy on her part... 
     He'd known the talk was coming, though he hadn't expected it to come so soon. Disillusioned, he pushed himself off the wall. 
     The shoji to the garden were still removed and smoke filled the air, creating halos around the fire bowls along the driveway. A lacquer tablet, holding a shallow cup and decanter, was set out for him. It was the night of the Gozan no Okuribi, when five large bonfires were lit on the mountains surrounding Kyoto; the last night of O-Bon. Water drunk tonight with all five Daimonji fires reflecting in the cup protected against illness. And his clan wanted him to be healthy... 
     He poured a few sips of water into the cup and left the shadow of the engawa, stepping down onto the grass. The night's air was hot and humid; no wind thinned the smoke trapped under the low-hanging clouds. North of the estate the last of the fires had been lit on the Toriimoto, painting the clouds above his head a deep blood-red. 
     Subaru stood silently in the unsteady dark. The rippling surface of the water in his shallow cup blurred the reflections of the fires, betraying his insufficient composure. Yesterday, he'd held the first year memorial service in the name of Seishi Buddha for his sister. He'd called out for her again, searched her, prayed, begged her to come... but he'd been alone in the spirit chamber between the fires. Again. 
     And now his mourning for Hokuto was ended. The mofuku had already been wrapped in rice paper and stored— 
     Water spilled over the edge of his cup, staining the grey sleeve of his kimono. They weren't wasting time. He'd been told that the mochi rice offering was scheduled for tomorrow. 
     The first fire on Mount Daimonji had nearly burned down when Subaru emptied his cup in a single draft. 

Fushimi-ku, Kyoto (South) 
Mikage Family Residence 
August 17, 1992 (Tomobiki) 

Subaru sat very still, very straight in the rear of the large family limousine so as not to wrinkle the kimono or the wide hakama pants that went with it. 
     "The Mikage family is associated with the Fushimi Inari-taisha shrine. The women of their family traditionally serve there as miko. They're a very respectable family—" 
     His grandmother's voice flowed over him, past him, became a susurrant murmur in the background. Outside, the Kujo-dori was crossing the Kamo river. Soon, they would turn south towards Fushimi-ku and the Inari shrine with its thousands of torii lining the paths to the top of the hill with its divine mirror... 
     When he'd been seven or eight years old, they'd visited it to pay their respects to Amaterasu and pray for his successful inauguration. Subaru remembered tunnels made of torii, worming their way up the hill towards the main idol. Even at midday they'd been haunted by vermilion shadows, some so dark that there were lanterns hung from the torii, but not all of them had been lit.
     He'd skipped away along one of the rear paths where no torii obscured the sun, following a fox cub loping through a bamboo grove... 
     ...until he'd found it sitting on the roots of a gnarled sakura, waiting for him, panting. The big ears had been constantly moving, as if listening to someone. He'd watched in awe how its pink tongue had darted out to lick a pink petal off its black nose. It had been early summer; the sun had caught in the divine mirror, but this sakura had still had flowers— 
     "Subaru-san, are you listening?" his grandmother said sternly at his side, calling his attention back to the here and now, where the car was slowing to turn into a driveway lined by tall, meticulously pruned trees. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that this is a very important event. We will arrive soon." 
     Soon. The word reverberated in his mind as he got out of the car. His grandmother would wait outside. It wasn't appropriate for her to come in with him — that much of the ancient tradition of a suitor's nightly visits to his bride-to-be was preserved — and he wondered why she'd come at all. Did she expect him to bolt? 
     A shiver crept down his spine when the door opened and a young man, probably of his age, stepped out and bowed, wordlessly inviting him in. A younger son of the house, judging by the kamon crest on the formal haori jacket. Uneasy under the silent scrutiny Subaru walked up the stairs. 
     Truth was, he was afraid. He'd faced the Sakurazukamori — had been entangled, broken, bloodied by him — and he hadn't been afraid, but this... 

He was shown into a large traditional room. The bedstead set up there had certainly never been slept in. The white cloth of the futon was untouched, the ofuda sewn to its cover unwrinkled. A shrine of the family gods had been set up next to it. Reverence lights burned in front of Inari, the rice god, flanked by kitsune portrayed in delicate figurines rather than symbolic tablets. 
     A kitsune had once led him to the blooming sakura... 
     Startled, he tore his gaze free and bowed deeply in front of Mikage-sama, sitting on a raised cushion by the bed next to his wife, awaiting his application. Other members of the clan sat in a wide half-circle behind them. He wondered if Akiko-san was among them. His guide had taken a seat at the right end of the circle, still looking at him. They were all looking at him. 
     He was here to take one of theirs away from them. 
     "Akiko." The low voice of the Mikage clan head stopped his thoughts. "Bring the mochi for your fiancé." 
     "Yes, father." A delicate woman rose from the place beside his former guide and went to retrieve a covered lacquer tray. She didn't look up as she offered the rice cakes to her parents first, until her mother nodded at her to indicate she was to hold the tray out for him. 
     Subaru wondered if she was as nervous as he. If so, it didn't show in her performance. The tray didn't shake in the least. He almost choked on the formal words when he took one of the cakes, ritually binding himself to her. 

Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West) 
Sumeragi Family Residence 
August 20, 1992 (Taian) 

The shoji to the spirit chamber had been removed. Reverence lights burned in front of the tiers holding the grave tablets of his clan's deceased, his clan's guardian spirits. He lowered his gaze, trying not to look past his bride at the newest tablet, on the lowest shelf in the outermost corner. He knew his sister's tablet was the lightest. One year wasn't enough to darken sakura wood... 
     How many years did it take to turn sakura wood black? 
     Or was blood needed for that? Blood and dark magic and— 
     Concerned, he leaned forward, scrutinizing Hokuto's tablet for dark lines — and was relieved to find it pristine white. Silk rustled next to him. He dared a glance at his bride as he returned to the proper posture and spotted a smooth strand of glossy hair that had escaped the tight, complicated knot on her head. She seemed to listen attentively to the declaration of his family members, never raising her eyes, never wavering... 
     He wondered how it felt to have a funeral ceremony held for you in your presence, to know that your name was crossed out in the family registry and that the house had been swept with salt to purify it after you left. She'd been sent from her home without a secure position in his. Had she had a say in the matter? Had— 
     A miko bowed in front of him, offering a list of the Mikage family members on white washi paper. A similar list had been given to their guests when his grandmother had begun speaking. Startled, he realized that he hadn't been following the ceremony. Akiko's father had already begun to read the list of the family members present. They were a large clan, and the reading took accordingly long. 
     When he finished, a miko brought the obi for Subaru to give to his bride, the traditional gift symbolizing female virtue, while he received a hakama in return, expressing her hope for male fidelity. 
     Then the ceremony continued with the exchange of the remaining nine yuino gifts, already laid out on a low table stretching between the two families sitting opposite each other. The gifts would be exchanged between different members of the families to tie the two clans together. 
     Akiko-san's Aunt presented the delicately woven strands of dried kelp to his grandmother, a symbol of fertility, expressing the Mikages' wish for them to have a large family. Subaru felt his face growing hot at her suggestive words. He was glad when she settled back down. 
     Next came hemp fibers and the wish for strong ties and cooperation in marriage. Subaru recognized the giver as his guide three days ago. Mikage Ayato was indeed a younger son — and Akiko's twin brother. He restricted himself to the blandest formalities to express his desire for the couple to get old together. Subaru met the silent threat in his eyes quietly, wondering how he would have felt when giving Hokuto away to another. Would he have been as angry at his future brother-in-law as Ayato-san seemed to be? Or... 
     His heart constricted at the thought that he'd never know the answer to that and he was glad when one of his relatives bowed to take the long fibers out of Ayato's hands and the ceremony proceeded with suehigo fans — symbols of expanding happiness... 

It was well into the afternoon when the exchange ended and the families mingled for the traditional dinner. Paper lanterns were lit in the garden. Sake was offered, but Subaru didn't touch his cup. Laughter arose, delighted Mikages expressed their happiness for A-chan to marry so well. Subaru shivered, knowing that right now servants and miko were sweeping the large hall, replacing the fusuma, setting up a sanctuary of semi-transparent shoji and moving the kamidana. 
     Amaterasu was to watch over him tonight, over... them. 
     Shadows danced over the engawa, making it easy to slip away from the reception. The fire bowls, lit despite the August heat, guttered in the wet, humid air. Weddings were things of spring and autumn, not summer. But autumn was too far away for the elders to contemplate waiting. 
     He sat down on the edge, stared out across the estate, spotted dark shadows patrolling its borders. He'd asked for the security to be dropped. It had been reinforced instead. They carried modern weapons — he'd wondered how his grandmother had acquired the necessary permissions for those — and he didn't have to use his gift to see the protective charms around their necks and wrists. Most of them were practitioners anyway. 
     They were meant to keep danger out... 
     They were keeping him in. 
     The sickle of a last quarter moon hung over Mount Arashiyama on the other side of the river. Somewhere in the falling night, a fox wailed and Subaru slumped deeper into the uneasy shadows. Soon... 

"Here," a quiet male voice said and a glass filled with amber liquid and ice cubes was held out for him. Surprised, Subaru glanced up at Omi Tono, who gave him a wry smile. "You look like you need it." 
     "I cannot—" 
     "It's tea." Omi took a seat on the edge of the engawa beside him. Unasked. "I know how you feel," he said after a moment. 
     "You—" 
     "I was terrified on my own day." He hesitated a moment, when Subaru remained silent, Omi shrugged. "You'll manage, don't worry." He winked. "I mean, it's nothing your parents didn't manage as well, eh?" 
     "Sounds like something Hokuto would say," Subaru sighed, holding the cold glass against his aching forehead and resting his eyes for a moment. 
     "She did." Omi laughed faintly. "When I tried to hide from my own night. And if your grandmother had caught her three years ago, she'd have been in for it." He grew serious. "She was a special person, Subaru-san. And she wanted you to be happy, no matter what." He gathered himself up. 
     "Omi-san." Subaru said quietly before the other onmyoji could cross around the corner back to the festivities. Subaru gave him a small grateful nod. "Thank you." 

Sagano-cho, Kyoto (West) 
Sumeragi Family Residence 

The sanctuary had been set up using his room and parts of the great hall. The walls were entirely made of shoji through which the light of the fire bowls outside filtered into the room, giving a soft, warm touch to the dark polished floor while drawing the ofuda with blessings and protection spells on the walls outsides as dark shadows onto the paper. It smelled of anise and jasmine; a censer with the traditional wedding incense was burning in front of the kamidana; flickering reverence lights turned the ancient wood of Amaterasu's tablet in its center into a deep, intense gold. 
     The furniture of the room was sparse and couldn't have been more functional. Pale new tatami mats framed with red brocade bearing regularly-spaced white pentacles, the family kamon, covered two thirds of the floor, leaving free a tatami-width of deep brown wood in front of each paper wall. A wide futon made up with unbleached cotton took up the center of the room; a small black lacquer table with sake cups stood next to it, nothing else. 
     Light was provided by a wide lantern suspended from the ceiling. Subaru lowered his gaze. Every move in here would become a shadow on the shoji, observed by unseen eyes outside: private without any privacy. He suppressed a shiver running down his spine. His head throbbed as he knelt down in a corner of the tatami; the altered scent dizzied him. He missed the strong wood notes of Jinko and Sandalwood that normally pervaded his incense. Lightly resting his hands on his knees he called upon his meditation skills to pray for Amaterasu's protection. 

One of the shoji was opened. A woman sat outside, her face downcast, almost hidden behind her long open hair, the white kimono folded neatly around her legs. She bowed before she slipped inside, knelt and closed the shoji behind her. 
     Mikage Akiko, soon to be Sumeragi. 
     She would become his wife, would have the run of his house, his finances, his 'family', his life. She would become obaa-san— Subaru felt his lips quiver in wry mirth at the thought; a mirth that quickly died when he remembered that he was expected to touch her. 
     The shadows of the protective ofuda attached to the paper walls flickered across the room as the fire bowls on the engawa flared in a gust of wind. The scent of rice straw from the fresh tatami mats mingled with the overwhelming tang of the incense when she sat in front of him, her hands neatly folded in her lap, waiting. For him. He was frozen in place, mortified at the prospect of making the first step, of— 
     "Sumeragi-sama?" 
     The soft alto voice startled him, made him look up into dark brown eyes. Her expression was demure yet determined to fulfill her duty to his clan and her own. She offered the sake dish with unwavering determination. She knew that the Sumeragi followed the old tradition: should a child come out of this, she would be his wife. If not... 
     He swallowed dryly. There was no 'if not'; everybody knew... they'd hurt her; there'd be talk... He knew how hurtful even unintentional callousness could be, had seen it in Mitsuki's mind , the wounds left by the careless remarks of people who didn't even know it was her, and Akiko— Everybody knew, and she knew they knew. That was worse. 
     He didn't want to be the reason for her to be hurt, but he didn't want to hurt her, either. In his work he'd seen so much pain... He had to be careful, but he felt so light-headed. The room's atmosphere was suffocating, making it difficult for him to focus on his breathing. His skin tingled. He yearned for fresh air— 
     "Sumeragi-sama, don't you feel well?" she asked, looking at him in concern. 
     It was as if a hand clasped his throat, constricting his breath. 
     "Shall I send for—?" Worried, she put the dish aside, reached for him. 
     Darkness danced in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. He wanted to shove her away. No, he couldn't do that, but he struggled just to breathe in the searing heat that had his chest spasm with pain. 
     Something touched his face. Her words didn't make sense, but the contact was cool on his burning skin, brought relief from the heat... He reached for it, grasped it, clung to it, but it wasn't enough. He was still burning, needed more, closer contact to find his breath, his hold. If only his head didn't hurt so much— 
     "...go. Please." Someone begged, then cried, "Let me go!" 
     Panicked, he lashed out, desperately clawing for a hold as he fell— fell— 

...there was blood on the tatami, blotting out the white family crests where it soaked from his hands into the brocade lining. Its metallic tang smothered the incense... helped him breathe... 
     He was lying on his side, aching, unable to move, to... There were hushed words, running feet, voices, scared... angry... One of the shoji in his sight was pushed back. There was a hand print on it. Red... blood? 
     Spilled blood... 
     He had to get up, had to cover the kamidana... 
     People rushed in, some faltering in their steps, others... 
     Large hands closed around his wrists. Others checked his hands, his body... 
     He tried to sit up, but the man holding him down strengthened his grip; safe, comforting... His eyes closed. He was so very tired... and cold... so cold... 
     Someone was whimpering outside, crying faintly. Akiko-san? Something had... happened... He... 
     They released him, stepped back. He shivered. A dark-clothed guard left in brisk strides— 
     The faint whirring of wheels announced his grandmother. The shoji was closed behind her. The guard taking position outside was a tall shadow around the bloodstain on it. Tatami rustled faintly under the wheels of her chair. He couldn't even raise his head to meet her eyes, when she stopped a step away, saying nothing. She didn't have to. He just felt her distanced eyes looking down on him, on his scarred, bloodied hands... 
     Stained. The word hung in the air. 
     He hoped, wished she'd tell him what happened. Nothing made sense... 
     "A..." he began. ...kiko-san? 
     Silence. The rustle of washi paper... 
     ...followed by the silky flutter of his grandmother's shikigami circling him. The crane landed daintily and prodded his cheek briefly with its sharp black beak, before it settled down next to him. 
     "So you aren't bespelled," his grandmother concluded. "Leave us alone." She drew a deep breath when the remaining guards had left. "Subaru-san, what happened?" 
     He didn't have an answer. The crying outside had stopped... 
     Scared, he looked at her, desperately wanting to sit up, to touch her, be held by her like she'd held him a year ago. "A..." He choked on the name, coughed, and pain exploded in his chest, draining him further... It was dark here... dark... and cold... and... 
     Alone. 

to be continued in
Family Matters 08 - Winter Flares

Notes:
During the age of aristocracy a bridegroom would nightly visit his bride at her home and only after the birth of a child or the loss of parents to the bridegroom or husband, the bride would be accepted as the wife in the man's home. The personal will of men and women for marriage was ignored in the face of family interests. Marriages were arranged by and for families.
Incense ingredients can be sorted according to the five elements and the Buddha families. Considering the "emotional makeup" of Liquid Fire (Fire + Water) I made up for Subaru in chapter 3, he needs incense made from Clove and Sandalwood (or Jinko) to call on Fire & Water and transmute Aversion & Desire. Some of the Earth ingredients would help to ground him. The last thing he needs is anything of Air (Jasmine) or Ether (Anise).
 Jinko. Japanese for Eaglewood (or Aloeswood). A very expensive incense ingredient associated with Water and the Transmutation of Ignorance (Vairocana Buddha). 
Kuburagi Mitsuki is the victim in Tokyo Babylon Vol. 2 Dream. From the wording in the German edition she seems to be the first person, in whom Subaru went Within. Seishiro suspected that she'd been Subaru's 'first love'.  

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