Chapter Text
Obanai rubbed the back of his head, as he now had wrappings in two places. He had suffered worse injuries that this. The worst part was the injury to his pride, having fainted backwards into the pit he had just been rescued from.
Uzui had broken the treasure storehouse floor to get to him (which was, as Obanai imagined, much to the chagrin of the monk). After applying first aid and seeing to Obanai's aftercare, he saw that he had already made a path big enough for himself to move around in, so he got a head start on the Kakushi’s work by bringing down a light and lifting out the bodies. Aside from Izumi's jilted wife and Sasai, two other bodies were recovered and eventually accounted for as local thieves. Obanai had missed all that, though, for he was being treated for a concussion and the Kakushi were under strict Hashira orders not to let him move about without medical clearance. By the time he woke up, he had been taken was far away from that mountain anyway, and even farther away from wherever it was that Uzui had disappeared to.
A crow came to summon Obanai, and the Kakushi could do nothing but follow new orders and allow him to go. This crow was not Obanai’s; it spoke in a nearly human inflection and wore a royal purple cord around its neck. It kept a patient pace for Obanai and Kaburamaru to follow it up roads where no other humans passed despite how well-kept the path was, and eventually he found himself at a comfortable mountain hamlet.
The crow disappeared over the roof, and Obanai paused at the front of the estate. It was just as he was wondering how he should announce himself when the door opened, and there stood a small child with cropped black hair, a kimono reflective of noble tastes, and a mysteriously deep stare over a tiny smile.
“We’ve been expecting you. This way, please,” the child said with perfect politeness, and despite how the child was dolled up, Obanai wondered with curiosity why a little boy might be dressed this way. He likewise used formalities when following the boy into the home, and then down the hall. He was shown to a sitting room, and then asked to wait while they prepared a light refreshment for him. A nearly identical girl with white hair entered the room after that, and she served him tea and sweets, and welcomed him to take his time, for they would leave him be until he was finished.
With the door closed and only Kaburamaru for company, Obanai eyed the hanging scroll in the wide alcove. It had a single calligraphy character: ‘metsu,’ just like the “eliminate” character worn across Obanai’s back.
Art pieces like that always struck Obanai’s curiosity. After he had finished his tea and sweets in a timely manner and reapplied his wrapping and aligned the dishes neatly to be removed, he scooted closer to the alcove for a look. The strokes of the calligraphy were made with an unsteady hand, but Obanai liked how he could feel the movement through them; how he could envision the course of the writer’s hand and even what fervent expression the writer might have been making. He checked the stamp of the calligrapher at the bottom left; it was signed ‘Ubuyashiki Kagaya.’
The door slid open. “Oyakata-sama will now see you.”
Oyakata-sama!
Obanai looked up to the sight of a man not much older than himself, but terribly sickly, to the point that the girl with white hair held his hand to steady him as he walked. She saw him neatly to a kneeling position before Obanai, then scooted backwards to be off to the side, out of their way.
Oya… kata… sama?
“Obanai, it’s good to see you. How are your injuries?”
“Ah—no—they’re fine,” he finally got a hold of himself and bowed so low that his elbows nearly touched the tatami. The motion made his head throb, and he wondered about the master’s words only moments after hearing them.
“Please, be at ease, make yourself comfortable.”
As commanded, Obanai sat back upright, and found himself staring into Ubuyashiki’s contorted face. Ubuyashiki gave him a smile as gentle as his voice, and it took Obanai an extra moment to utter, “Thank you.”
“I can still see you. At the least the outline of you, for now.”
Had he read his thoughts? “No, I—I didn’t mean to accuse you of—”
He chuckled lightly. “You seemed concerned. I took a guess.”
“I have bad eyesight in one eye myself, so I found myself assuming…”
“You and Kaburamaru make a wonderful team. I look forward to you meeting Gyoumei one day, for that child is entirely blind. He always astounds me.”
“By ‘that child’ you mean…?”
“Himejima Gyoumei, the Stone Hashira.”
Another Hashira? Obanai had already gotten more than enough of his fill by meeting one of them. “I don’t see why someone like me should trouble him. The Hashira are all busy.”
“That is why I hope you’ll join them, Obanai. I’d be honored if you accept the position of Snake Hashira.”
The voice rang so cleanly and purely through Obanai’s aching head that he felt as though he wandered into some happy dream, where words meant nothing compared to the meanings of sounds. It was smoothing and cool, but the fact that words did have meaning nagged at Obanai to retort. “No, there must have been some misunderstanding. Uzui-san only assumed that it might have been a Lower Moon. I’ve still never encountered one of the Twelve Moon Demons.”
“Fu!” came a tiny giggle behind Ubuyashiki. The master looked over his shoulder to the girl, who blushed and bowed her head as a sign that she wouldn’t let it happen again, and then she was allowed to speak. “Iguro-sama, there are multiple conditions for becoming a Hashira. While many have succeeded in defeating Lower Moon demons, another possible route is to be of the Kinoe rank and to have defeated fifty demons. The demon in the temple on your last mission was your fiftieth.”
“Ah. Hmm. I see. I never kept track.”
“You stay very focused,” said Ubuyashiki. “With that being the case, are you willing to accept?”
Obanai stayed silent a moment. He could feel the tension in the air as Ubuyashiki and the girl waited for a response, and it seemed Kaburamaru was more impatient than anyone. He wrung somewhat tightly around him.
“…Obanai?”
“It will sound silly to say this, but I don’t believe I should hold a place so close to you. My past doesn’t make me a clean person.”
“Hmm. That’s not the response I expected. You’re very strict with yourself,” he pondered, that cool voice sweeping between them like a creek between smooth river rocks, only ankle deep on a hot summer day. “As I understand, you’ve already met Tengen?”
“Yes. We talked something of our pasts.”
“And you have yet to meet Gyoumei, and Sanemi, and Giyuu, and Shinobu. If we were to hold cleanliness of one’s past as a measure of righteousness as a Hashira, perhaps they would all choose to stand down.”
“I didn’t mean to accuse them of anything. I only meant to make an assessment of myself and the uncleanliness I carry.”
“I’m afraid I would be left with no Hashira at all if you were all held to such standards. I would not even find myself worthy enough to be called ‘clean.’ I hope I do not seem that way to you.”
“No, I wouldn't—” he started, but upon reflection of Ubuyashiki’s presence, there was something deeply shadowy about him, something weighty and dark. Obanai wanted to insist that whatever that darkness was couldn’t had been this man’s fault, but it wasn’t a shadow that could be taken away so simply. It would be rude of him to downplay that man’s burden. “It’s my own issues, with my own past. A Hashira is a paragon, an example for all the other swordsmen in this Corp, and I shouldn’t bring my own issues into a position like that.”
“Ff—fff,” the little girl turned bright red, and her shoulders shook with each snort forcing its way out her nose. “Fhh—ssnrff—pffh---"
“Hinaki.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Obanai,” Ubuyashiki looked back to Obanai, making as much eye contact as his glassy irises could hold, “This is only the sense I get from speaking with you, but I believe the reason you feel dirty is due to the strength of your conscience. You’re sensitive to justice. I cannot see whatever it is you find ugly about yourself, for I find your heart very beautiful.”
It was as though the creek had come crashing as waves, momentarily washing away all the turmoil Obanai carried. Some voice, some fifty voices clinging at his back whispered not to believe him, not to believe those dainty lies, but Kaburamaru hung closer to Obanai’s chest.
‘Your chest got warmer. You notice your heart beating faster? You liked that.’
“I… forgive my indecision. I should have been thinking with the Corp in mind, objectively. If I can be of service as your seventh Hashira, then I accept.”
“I’m glad. Welcome, Obanai. I’m so grateful to have you.”
The news traveled to Uzui so quickly that Obanai suspected he might have been using his ninja skills to spy the whole time he was in Ubuyashiki’s mansion. “Hey, there’s our new Snake Hashira! Whoo! Looking good! Getting either of those bandages off soon?”
“Cool it, Uzui.”
“No ‘-san’? I’m not ‘Uzui-san’ to you anymore? Not even ‘Uzui-sama?’”
“Iguro!! Good to have you!” came a familiar and sunny, albeit deepened voice. “I’m still new to being a Hashira myself. Let’s do our best together!”
“Rengoku, long time no see. How’s your father?”
“I asked, but he didn’t want to come today!”
“Ah, I see. What are we seeing?”
“’Musume Dojoji!’ A play about a snake! I know nothing else about it!”
“It’s almost as if they planned this performance in your honor,” added Uzui, giving him a slap on the back.
The three watched the play.
It took hours.
Uzui’s attitude had turned considerably grim by the end of it. “Sorry. That was too close to life to even be funny.”
“I found nothing funny about it! A jilted woman turned into a snake demon in a temple bell! There’s nothing funny about that!”
“We just saw it, Rengoku, we don’t need the recap.”
“While the actors can never capture demons quite right, the performance was otherwise exquisite. Very impressive array of costume changes and mastery of their craft. I feel moved, and motivated for a long night of work ahead!”
“You really don’t change,” Obanai smirked from behind his wrappings. “I can hardly believe it.”
“How about you, Iguro? Off to your first Hashira mission?”
“Not yet. I’m still on reprieve for injury,” he said, pointing to the bandages wrapped around his forehead. “That reminds me, I’ve got something else I need to do.”
Uzui leaned forward with curiosity, just as Obanai planned. “Oh? What’s that?”
The fresh new Snake Hashira snatched the two chains of gold beads faster than a former ninja could defend against. “I’m off to go return stolen property. Don’t ever let me catch a Hashira like you doing that again.”
“Sheesh, alright! Fine,” he said, then added as Obanai walked off, “You were more fun when I could boss you around.”
“Stolen property? What is he talking about, Uzui?”
“N-nothing! Don’t look at me like that! Go, turn around, shoo, off to work!”
The play, and Kabuki as a whole, hadn’t been Obanai’s tastes. He was glad to have given it a try, though, as least for Rengoku’s sake. Maybe the writers could have stood to do something less trite than the typical old jilted female demon story, though. Or at least had her turn into something other than a snake. Kaburamaru hissed as though to agree.
Late the next day, Obanai reached the temple again. There were a few more worshipers around than before, odd for what should have still been a somber place with Sasai’s recent murder. It was just as he was thinking, this, however, that a sound echoed through the premises.
BO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-N-G-G-G-G-g-gg—g-g—g—g---g-----g---ggg—nn-nn---nnn…….
The bell was already back up? Kakushi really did make short work of everything, and there was a furor of a cheering crowd right after that sound. How odd that people would already be so excited to rally back around that thing after all the gruesome stuff that had happened underneath it. He decided to head straight for the main worship hall instead.
Inside, he lifted his hand as far as he could reach with an injured calf and foot still planted on the ground, and Kaburamaru took the gold chains the rest of the way and hooked them back in place. That was the end of it, Obanai thought, until an old man was startled at the sight of him. “Demon Hunter-sama!”
“Hello. Don’t mind me,” he replied to the head monk.
The head monk looked up to the gold decorations and put a hand over his heart. “You brought those back for us? How very, very kind of you.”
“Please, don’t mention it. I’m sorry for the trouble my colleague caused you.”
“No, no. I must apologize to you instead. I apologize, and I thank you,” he said, bowing with his face nearly to his knees.
“Please stop, this isn’t necessary. If I might ask, though, what became of…?”
“Oh,” he melted into an embarrassed smile, “Hatoko still works here.”
“What!?”
“She was heartily sorry, and I chose to show her mercy. Like you said, it wasn’t likely the authorities would believe me even if I turned her in.”
“Those people she had a hand in murdering aren’t going to come back!”
“I know. I know,” he nodded sorrowfully. “She knows, too. She’s committed to praying for the repose of their souls.”
“The souls she judged wicked?”
He went back to a wry smile as he nodded. “My hope is that if she can show true mercy to others, then she may one day be able to show mercy to herself.”
“But what about the murders?”
“To people who believe in demons, I told them the demon hunters came and slayed it. To those who don’t, I blamed the two thieves for Sasai-san’s death, and then said vigilantes got to the thieves, and that everything with the Izumis was a misunderstanding after their son was killed by a wild animal. I had to move some bodies around to make it convincing, though. Phew. That was a toughie.”
“You—you don’t feel bad at all for lying!?”
“A little bad, but the heavens understand that human circumstances can be complicated. I feel assured that both justice and mercy have been served,” he went back to a wide and warm smile. “And not to worry, I would never have troubled your hidden ones over this! They’ve already done so much for us in repairing the storeroom and that pit in the courtyard. All smoothed over and as though there were never any tunnels at all. There were so many of those tunnels too! I know Izumi-san did most of them with demon strength, but I’m impressed with the hard work Hatoko put into them too. I’m sure she’ll apply herself just as hard to her prayers.”
“My head hurts. Please excuse me. I’m going to step outside.”
“You’re always welcome back here,” he said, and when Obanai looked back to the waving monk, he could have sworn it was the merciful Buddha statue waving at him for a moment. That statue's hand was extended and indicating something or other, after all.
With a sigh, Obanai waved back to be polite and then headed out. He considered stopping by that frozen garden, but with the warmed weather, it was sure to have melted away all the mystery by now. He chose to forego it and instead get a look at the temple bell in all its glory on his way out. There was a small crowd of people, a few locals, but mostly Kakushi. As soon as one took notice of him, she elbowed the ones next to her, and then the Kakushi all approached in a crowd to bow and offer congratulations on his promotion. He indicated the normal townspeople standing around and gestured for them to stop, but he replied politely when they inquired about his injuries and how he was feeling.
“That’s some bell,” he changed the subject, admiring its austerity as it hung in place, as though watching over the faithful below. “Hmm. Even more remarkable that you all got it back up.”
“A pulley system and good rope helped, we’re not that impressive.”
“Was he complimenting us?” one whispered.
“Not sure,” another whispered back.
“Sure gave us a lot of difficulty, though.”
“Not surprising, if even Uzui couldn’t lift it.”
“Even with all of us here, we weren’t enough to get it moving on our own. We got lucky with a Corp member stopping by on a normal old visit to the temple.”
“A swordsman?”
“Yeah, a new girl. Said she was excited to take a mission around here so she could finally come see this place afterward. Have you heard, Snake Hashira-sama? This bell is apparently a lucky spot for lovers with complications.”
“Once we got it back up, we let her have the first ring at it, and then she was on her way.”
“How about it? You did a lot of hard work here the other night too. Do you want to take a swing at it?”
“No, that’s alright. Hearing it once was enough for me,” he excused himself, calling the sound to mind as though it were still echoing. It was clear and soothing almost like the effect of Ubuyashiki’s voice, but he knew it was going to take a lot more than the bell’s holy sound to ever grant him some kind of everlasting love to follow on the path to salvation. But, there was a comfort in thinking the echo might still give him some direction. It was nice to suppose that the merciful statue wasn’t beckoning, but instead pointing Obanai down the mountain and back on his way.