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Just for a fleeting moment, something gave him the sense that this death would be the last.
Bowser had been lying face-down on a soft bed of grass and flowers for the greater part of twenty-five minutes, long spikes jutting out from his shell to the peril of the strangers around him. The sound of bystanders and the advancing and receding water of the riverbank was all that could be heard. Passersby, whose reactions to the new arrival ranged from fright to curiosity, had cautiously tiptoed around his body as they ambled idly about.
By the time he had awoken in a daze, the Koopa had already been dragged by his tail and discretely propped onto the stern end of a small, worn-down dinghy that was now cruising slowly between the banks of a wide river. The shore on which Bowser had been lying had long since disappeared behind the thick fog that blanketed the vicinity. As he sat up and looked around him, he found himself nearly lulled back to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat. It was in evidently poor condition, experiencing mild turbulence from the grooves and cracks in the unfinished wood of the vessel's hull.
The desolate, unfamiliar landscape that surrounded the ferry gave him a tinge of panic. The cloudless sky possessed a deep crimson hue, giving the entire area a dim, bleak glow as if it were in an eternal sunset. The clear, cerulean water was completely still, save for the ebbing waves generated by the ferry's movement; the idle lurking of some phantom sea creatures, even extinct species from past eras, could be spotted below the surface. Rugged crags jutted out from the water surrounding him, some of which hosted small patches of soil and grass whence occasional flowers and small trees bloomed.
The sudden pitch of the boat as Bowser shifted in place attracted the attention of the boat’s only other passenger. A tall, slender woman was standing at the opposite end of the ferry, her back turned and her feet planted together on the rim of the boat. Her shoulder-length, bright orange hair was tied into two loose and wispy tails. She wore a cornflower blue dress with a lightly tattered white cloth fluttering over it; her entire garb was fastened around the waist with a little orange strip of fabric underneath a wide belt held by a large Japanese mon coin. She would have almost looked plain or rugged, if it weren’t for the wicked silver scythe she carried - the symbol of a deity of death.
The woman glanced calmly behind her and spoke in a surprisingly strong voice that reverberated softly between the nearby crags. “Oh, there you are, cheater. You’ve been awfully quiet back there. No need to be a stranger.”
“Cheater? Who the hell are you calling cheater?” the Koopa King mumbled in response, squinting as he looked her up and down.
She scoffed. “Well, nice to meet you, too. I should have known you’d be a pain. I don’t know why I was expecting the likes of you to be agreeable or receptive.”
The shinigami paused for a moment before continuing, outstretching her hand in greeting. “The name's Komachi. Onozuka Komachi. I'm the one responsible for carting unfortunate souls like yourself across the Sanzu. We’ve got quite a ways to go, so we might as well make conversation while you’re here.”
Bowser did not deign to shake her hand, crossing his own spike-cuffed arms. He straightened his body, causing the ferry to tilt down suddenly as his weight shifted. Komachi seemed unperturbed, her posture resolute and her feet remaining effortlessly on the bow. “The Sanzu? That what this place is called?”
“Goodness, you’re painfully out of the loop,” Komachi replied. “What, were you living under a rock? Everyone knows what happens to them when they die. They—”
Bowser cut her off. “Die?! Wait, huh?! You’re saying I’m dead?! Quit pulling my leg, girly!”
“I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out to you, but yes, Bowser. You are dead. I thought you knew already.”
“Hah! Like hell I am! Get me over to land and off of this boat! That’s an order!”
“Woah, there. Show some respect,” Komachi snapped back, pointing the edge of her scythe at him. “You may have been the king in your lifetime — the emperor, even — but here you’re just another sorry soul. That said, I can acquiesce to your so-called order by simply dumping you into the Sanzu, where you would sink and drown for eternity. Or you can ride along with me. Your choice.”
He growled in response. “Enough with the fairy tales, woman! Tell me what’s going on here!”
“I already did,” she said curtly as she shook her head in disappointment. “You know, I don’t like seeing folks deny their fate. It’s tragic, even for me. I can already tell you’re one of those punks who takes pride in being irreverent, but that isn’t going to do you any good.”
Komachi grinned. “You’ll come to it eventually. Some just take longer than others. Just think about it: where were you before you found yourself on my ferry?”
At this point, Bowser was simply dumbfounded at this strange woman who seemed to know everything about him. He wanted nothing more than to banish this thought of death, this nonsense about Heaven and Hell, from his mind. Bowser was too determined in his goals to fret about such trivial things as mortality. Nevertheless, at Komachi’s behest, he thought deeply on these things, looking back on the painfully recent memories of his latest downfall.
“Well, I was in my castle, duking it out with Mario and his brother! I tried to get the jump on them, but they scuttled underneath me while I couldn’t see them! Then, they pressed that damn emergency switch, and then…”
Bowser bit his tongue. A wave of dread crept over him as the gears of his mind began to turn and he finally started to understand his circumstance, if only just a little. Komachi turned her head, red eyes piercing his. She crouched down and reached her legs one by one onto the floor of the boat, sitting down across from him. Her formerly calm, smirking expression became neutral.
“My boss told me you're a ‘special case’. Mostly due to how egregiously you’ve extended your lifespan. You're someone who's cheated death dozens and dozens of times — always coming back, despite being completely submerged in lava, or flattened by a five-kilometer drop, or trapped in smoldering rubble. That alone gets you a one-way, non-stop, express ticket to Hell… not to mention whatever else you might have done in your life. I bet you're expecting to return to the Outside World at any moment now, bigger and stronger. Outta luck now, I guess.”
“Your boss? And who might that be?”
“The Yama. Her name is Eiki, for your information — Shiki Eiki — but I would strongly advise against calling her by anything other than her proper title. She’ll be the one to decide where you go after I drop you off at Higan. That’s what we call the other side of this river. You know, it would be pretty hilarious if she sentenced you to eternal refreshment stand duty on the Road of Liminality. It would be good to see you serve others for a change.”
“I won’t have anyone deciding where I go! Who does she think she is? I don’t know who you take me for, Komachi, but I don’t serve anybody, no matter what this so-called Yama says.”
“Mhm, sure. Oh, by the way, thanks for the pittance of a toll you provided,” Komachi replied sarcastically. “Hell’s in dire financial straits at the moment, so it’s not very helpful.”
“Hm? A toll?”
“What, you think I do this for free? Ah, right, I suppose you aren’t really used to paying for things, anyway.”
“Well, I certainly don’t remember paying some toll! I want my money back!”
“Do I look like some market stand clerk to you? Sorry, the toll’s non-refundable. I took it while you were barely conscious back at Shigan. Call it implied consent — you knew what you were getting into when you died. I don’t normally do that, but I had to get you on so I could take you to the Yama. Since you’re a ‘special case’.”
Komachi turned and stood back up on the bow of the ferry, holding her sickle out straight in front of her as if to measure distance. “Every phantom wishing to reach Higan on my ferry needs to pay the toll, of course. The amount is equivalent to the sum of money others spent on you during your lifetime. That must mean not a lot of people were willing to shell anything out for your sake. Either that, or you were too haughty to accept money from anyone, or both. What a sad soul."
Bowser couldn’t help but feel aggrieved. “Maybe you should look at yourself before you go mouthing off to me. A dead woman, driving this old boat all by your lonesome, day in and day out… I pity you. Don't you have anything to talk about besides death?”
“Speak for yourself,” the shinigami answered. “Unlike you, I’m not dead. Rather, I’m somewhere in between dead and alive… not quite immortal, either. Simply eternal. That’s why I have no care for this ‘day in, day out’ thing you speak of — this is a Pure Land, so days don’t pass here. No wonder you were so out of it earlier. The sheer ritual purity of the place must have knocked you catatonic.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, Komachi, but it’ll take more than that to knock me out!”
Something in Komachi made her feel a little sorry for Bowser. Even with the grandiose buildings and contraptions he had wielded during his numerous lifetimes, countless flawed reincarnations and countless failed attempts grasping at pipe dreams had withered his soul ever more into oblivion and made him a pathetic, delusional, irascible creature. Without that façade, Bowser was nothing; she could hear the emptiness behind his bravado and hotheadedness. Even now, after he had at least arrived at some modicum of acknowledgment or acceptance, it was half-painful and half-amusing to Komachi to see the Koopa King continue in vain to resist his fate.
“Look, I don’t make the rules. You go where you go. In any case, you’re in for something unlike you’ve ever seen in your life.”
With Komachi’s cryptic reply, the shores of Higan came into view, emerging from the mist that surrounded them. Higan was a starkly different sight from the grimness of the Sanzu. Bonsai trees and bright arrays of flowers peppered the endless green grasslands that comprised the place. Bowser could feel none of the natural sensations, not even a breeze; only a gentle, enveloping warmth. A little paradise in the bowels of the Underworld.
The land appeared a bit more lively than Shigan, despite the overbearing aura of finality. Unknown creatures and underworld judges on their breaks could be seen colloquing with one another and admiring the natural greenery. On the riverbank, groups of tiny ghosts were carefully stacking small stones into precarious towers, which would be routinely toppled by passing oni. Fellow phantoms had left traces of their presence, where they made lighthearted bets on where the Yama would send them.
The boat slowed down and strafed to a little area adjacent to the shore. Bowser stood with a heave and stepped over the rim of the boat onto the grass, flattening an unlucky flower or two underfoot. He felt weightless.
Komachi stretched her legs and moved to the middle of the boat.
"Well, it looks like this is goodbye… Bowser. At least you can't say I haven't warned you."
He nodded. "I'm not worried. I'll be outta here soon enough!"
Komachi returned his gesture with a slight smile. "Oh, you will — just not the way you think. Who knows, though? Maybe I'll see you on the flipside. I hope I don’t, though."
She maneuvered the boat away from the shore and began to pull away in the opposite direction. Before she could get very far, she heard a deep, gruff voice yell from the receding land.
"Don’t worry — you certainly will! Bwaaahahahaha!!"
Komachi shrugged and shook her head. The shinigami and her ferry left the shore behind and glided gently across the water, disappearing into the mist to pick up another unfortunate phantom.
Then it was more waiting. From what the ferrywoman had told him, it appeared to Bowser that all one did in this place was wait. They wait to die in the Outside World, and then at Shigan they wait for the ferrywoman to guide them to Higan. Then they wait on the ferry to reach the other side of the river, if they even make it there. Then they wait there for the Yama to pass down their fate.
Bowser continued to trek further inland, soon leaving the vicinity of the few other creatures that inhabited Higan, and looked around him. He felt like he was on another planet. The field that surrounded his feet was blanketed with red spider lilies, which stretched out into mostly dark woods full of giant trees that were punctuated with dull light from the sky shining through the treetops. The air was tinged with a strange bittersweet feeling that had almost managed to tempt Bowser into taking a moment of introspection to look at Higan's natural beauty with awe.
That was, until he heard a voice call his name from behind him.
“About time you showed up. It seems Komachi’s slacking off again.”
He wheeled around and found himself looking down at a petite, green-haired woman in a blue and white dress, carrying a short scepter and a stern demeanor. She certainly looked the part of a judge, wearing a dark blue hat adorned with a glistening golden frontplate, as well as two heavy pauldrons that were also trimmed with gold.
Bowser grinned, suppressing his laughter at her small stature. “You must be-”
The woman cut him off with an earth-shattering authoritativeness. “Don’t speak.”
He begrudgingly kept silent, if only due to the sheer proverbial force of her words. He was now certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was Eiki Shiki, Yamaxanadu. The Yama herself.
“You have such incomprehensible audacity,” Eiki continued, once she had been sure Bowser had heeded her words, “to even dare attempt to observe niceties with me. Your sentencing is long, long overdue.”
Bowser was taken aback. Now that she had returned to a normal volume, he found it difficult to take the woman seriously; she was barely even half his size, and appeared to him as no more than a nuisance. In any case, he was used to being the strongest and most commanding in the room, so her attitude came as an unwelcome surprise. “Hmph! Who are you, a police officer? Explain yourself this instant!”
“It appears you were misinformed,” Eiki responded, deadpan. “I would hope Komachi had given you enough of a primer for you to understand my position. I get it, though. You’re accustomed to being king.”
“Here’s how this works,” she continued. “I will read out the charges clearly and plainly — a mere summary, in your case, since your rap sheet is astoundingly lengthy and I’ve got other souls to judge — and I will consider the severity of the crimes. Then I will deliver the verdict. You are not given a testimony, nor will I hear or heed it if you provide one. My decision is final and non-negotiable, nor can anything you do or say here change it.”
“Hah! What do you know about my life, huh, Ms. All-Powerful Yama?”
“Let’s see… only every single deed and misdeed you’ve ever done in your life. The Cleansed Crystal Mirror sees all. You’ve committed thousands of counts of theft, assault and untruth; you and your troops have terrorized and pillaged towns and cities; you’ve objectified and kidnapped women; and you’ve attempted to destroy your world at least once, not to mention you’ve extended your lifespan to extreme degrees… just those in themselves make you a shoo-in for Hell, let alone the terrorism, brainwashing, dark magic, imprisonment, abuse of power, attempted world domination, war crimes, property damages—”
Bowser waved his hands in an urgent gesture for Eiki to stop, clenching his teeth. “Alright, enough! This is all some crazy ruse, isn’t it?! Kamek!! You’re in for an earful from me!” Bowser attempted numerous times to snap his fingers in order to summon the Magikoopa over to himself, but to no avail.
“It’s sad, really. You were so proud of your sinful nature in life — you’d go to every length to flaunt how tough and delinquent you were — but now that you’ve been specifically confronted on it, you seem to hesitate. You seem to distance yourself from it, as if you weren’t personally responsible for all of those sins. I can hear it in your tone, a sort of ‘couldn’t possibly be me’ kind of indignance you seem to be known for in your world.”
Eiki sighed as she continued her lecture, only looking down at her rod as she began inscribing a string of symbols onto its surface using a small stylus and idly approaching Bowser. “Allow me to tell you something about myself. In most circumstances, I don’t like sending people to Hell. I want those who have not gone rightly to fix their errors so that they can avoid eternal damnation. That said… there are some souls who are simply irredeemable. Unpurifiable. Souls driven by hatred, rage, vengeance. These ‘special cases’... are most often the spirits of people who lived their lives committing piles upon piles of atrocities and unforgivable sins, as well as of those who have stretched their lifespans to particularly unnatural extents. The natural order has no patience or tolerance for those who defy fate and evade justice, nor do I, the Yama of Gensokyo.”
Bowser had hardly any patience left for the Yama. He was already certain this was only one of her more brief lectures, which made him shudder at the thought of her normal length. “Justice? You’re just passing me off straight to Hell without hearing my side of the story! I’d hardly call that just!”
“Oh, I’m not passing you off just yet. After all, you still haven’t received your beating.”
“Woah, wait, huh?! This is stupid! You’re not even making any sense!”
Eiki scoffed and shook her head as she finished scribbling on her rod. “In fact, I’ll do it however many times the Rod of Remorse sees fit. Which, by the looks of it… is just one. Perhaps it took your being a foreigner into account, so I won’t contest. Your sins are making this rod so heavy, I’ll bet you can’t even handle that.”
“Hah! Do your worst!” Bowser swept both of his arms outward, so as to open his chest to whatever feeble clouting he expected Eiki to perform on him. How dare she challenge his unmatched strength?
“With glee,” she said, holding his left arm and raising the Rod of Remorse over it. “If anything should convince you, it’s this.”
Eiki slammed the rod onto Bowser’s forearm with full force. He almost immediately crumpled to the ground, roaring in agony between strained gasps. Even his extreme level of physical power was no match for the sheer weight of the weapon as it crushed his arm. Had Eiki decide to let go of the handle, it would have pinned him to the ground, possibly even breaking the earth beneath it. He felt as if his entire arm, as well as any body parts surrounding it, had been violently disintegrated all at once.
Bowser continued to writhe in agony as he tenderly cupped his arm with his other free hand. Eiki loomed over him, unfazed and unintimidated.
“Well, you've made my decision pleasantly easy, I'll hand you that. I have more work to do, so I won’t throw away any more of my time with the likes of you. I'm glad I decided not to waste my breath. You weren't even worth the longer lecture upon which I had originally planned. I’m sure the oni will have lots of fun tormenting you on the way down. Case closed. Have a nice flight.”
The very moment Eiki closed her lips, Bowser immediately began falling down, the Yama refusing him the opportunity to catch a breath. Higan’s otherworldly landscape blurred out of clear view and melted into a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to run away from him before his eyes. He lost control of his bodily movements, sending his mind into a frenzy that made him lose control even more. Bowser could almost hear the distant cacophony of demons, all of whom were more than happy to torture him on his way down to Hell.
That was when he sensed himself suddenly changing direction, yanked out of his cycle of transmigration by some unknown force. He felt as if he were leaving something behind.