Chapter Text
The doors of the abandoned shrine were pulled open with a loud rattle. Gleaming pale light fell through the crack, burning Kenjaku’s eyes. A figure appeared in the door, dark silhouette towering tall before them. They could feel the cold calculating stare pressing down on them before they saw it.
The stranger was dressed like a nun and carrying the air of an onmyouji. Despite the monastic appearance, the person seemed out of place in this setting, standing out inside the brittle shrine just like Kenjaku themselves. She was too great, too imposing and magnificent for this rundown hut. And Kenjaku was a stain, sullying what little sanctity this place ever had.
That was how they met Tengen. That was how she discovered them. Dirty, hungry, clinging to their mothers corpse and clutching a sharp stone that cut into their thin fingers. A meagre weapon against the spectres that liked to visit; phantoms and grotesque creatures that gathered to steal away what little possessions Kenjaku still had – their life and the death of their mother. The stones the child threw their way barely kept them at bay.
But she was different. A sweep of her hand cast the shadows away, banished the phantoms and made the creatures scuttle into the furthest corners. Then that same hand was stretched out towards them; not exactly inviting, but also not entirely threatening.
“Come. This is no place for the living.”
The stench of their mother’s corpse clung to them, clogging their nose, irritating their too dry eyes. Blood roared in their ears. At the lack of response, she reached forward, grabbed Kenjaku’s wrist and pulled them to their feet. They stumbled, almost tripping over the feeble legs of the corpse, but her grip steadied them. Their skin was dirty and leathery against hers, their arm like a twig between her fingers – ready to snap. But her hand was warm around theirs, her skin soft and comforting. It was the most gentle touch they had felt in a long while – they couldn’t remember how long.
“Let’s go.”
Kenjaku had defended their mother with bared teeth, chipped nails and a growl in their throat, but for some reason it was easy now to go with this unknown woman, to step into the bright sunlight and leave the dark of the shrine and the remains of their mother behind. Fresh wind welcomed them, cleared their head, chased away the veil of death. A pressure seemed to lift from their shoulders, their gait felt lighter, the world gained more colour. Everything was vibrant, loud, sensations rushing in on them.
Her hand kept them grounded; holding them up, leading them further away – away from the dark past and into the future she promised them. Their trust in her was blind, unfounded. However it wasn’t like there was anything else. Numbly they watched as their makeshift home lit up in flames, the body of their mother hidden somewhere within. Maybe she was finally free, maybe she was shuddering in agony as the flames tore apart what was left of her. No matter, she was out of reach, gone to where Kenjaku couldn’t follow her and all they had left was the woman by their side. Without looking back, they let themselves be pulled away.
The woman brought them to a monastery – her monastery. Kenjaku’s new home. There were many other people, bowing to her, speaking in hushed words and downcast eyes. Young, old, men, women, all dressed in the same clothes. They called her “Master Tengen”. Barely any of them paid Kenjaku any mind. Despite their unkempt appearance, nobody stared at them or even acknowledged them.
They were led into a bathroom. It was bigger than any Kenjaku had seen before, smelling of flowery soaps and burned wood heating the tub instead of stale water and sweaty bodies. Before they could think of raising a protest, their clothes were taken away. It was no great loss, they were ragged and stiff with dirt, but it left Kenjaku exposed, more helpless than ever. Seeing them shy away, Tengen sent everyone outside, leaving just the two of them alone. It only marginally calmed them down. There were less people, but in return they were left with the most intimidating of them all. The one who could whisk them away like a leaf in the wind.
Tengen treated them rather matter-of-factly. Kenjaku was told to sit down, to stretch out their arms, then their legs, to turn their head this way and that while she washed them, inspected the bruises and scars littering their body, and scrubbed that grey layer of dirt off their skin. She was firm, but not to the point that it hurt. It was comforting. Tengen only seemed to think about cleaning them off and doing it as efficiently as possible. No ulterior motives Kenjaku could pick up on. Being treated too lovingly would’ve likely made them want to crawl out of their body. Their mother used to be more gentle, but this wasn’t their mother. Absentmindedly, they watched their skin turn red and sensitive under her scrutiny. Some of the fresh cuts on their arms started to bleed again.
All skepsis washed away when they were allowed to enter the bathtub. The water immediately sullied around them, gaining a slightly browner shade. However, the heat soothed their nerves, relaxed their muscles and made them realise just how tired they were. Instinctively, they sank deeper into the water until it covered them up to their ears, nose hovering just above the surface. Their wounds stung. Kenjaku couldn’t remember the last time they felt this satisfied.
When Tengen washed their hair, they leaned their head back without thinking, exposing their throat to her. The threat of danger screaming in the back of their mind was easily ignored as nimble fingers raked over their scalp, meticulously untangling their hair. Despite the warmth, a shudder raced through them.
Strands that were too badly entangled or clotted with filth and dried blood were cut out. The water around them darkened further. Little black dots gathered on the surface – mud and lice – as all corruption and stains of the past that desperately clung to them were washed off.
Kenjaku stared up at their new guardian with wide eyes. She didn’t return their gaze, focusing solely on the mess that was their hair. They watched her brows crinkle from time to time whenever she came across a particularly persistent knot. Fliching slightly, they didn’t avert their eyes, spending the time counting the wrinkles travelling across her face and getting lost in the clear river eyes that wouldn’t meet their own.
Eventually, the comb ran smooth, gliding through their hair unobstructed. Tengen smeared some herbal oil into the strands and massaged it into their scalp. It was supposed to calm the irritated skin and keep away the lice.
When Kenjaku caught a glimpse of themselves in the mirror, they didn’t recognize the person staring back at them. A clean face with fine features that were slightly too haggard for a child their age. Warm brown eyes surrounded by deep sleepless shadows. All framed by smooth straight hair parting around the brows. If not for the little scar across the nose from a past fracture and the red birthmark on their forehead, they would have no frame of reference for their face, nothing to tell them that this body shown in the mirror belonged to them. Tengen hurried Kenjaku away before they could further ponder their new appearance.
Food chased away any lingering thoughts. Perfectly cooked rice, hot soup that tasted of more than water and cabbage, fresh vegetables and even fruit. It was paradise. Kenjaku didn’t even know what to taste first. They weren’t allowed to eat a lot to not upset their empty stomach, but there was more variety presented to them than they ever could have dreamed of. The hint of a smile tugged on Tengen’s lips as Kenjaku screamed from the soup burning their throat all the way down into their belly. She ate with them, very modestly and with poise. It kept Kenjaku from just gulping down the rice with their bare hands and tearing into the peaches with their teeth, instead clumsily making an effort to use chopsticks and cutting the fruit neatly with the knife she handed them.
The room Kenjaku was supposed to sleep in was too big. It was noisy. Whispering, snoring, endless shuffling from the countless unfamiliar people lying around them, unseen in the dark. It allowed them no rest, constantly keeping them on edge, anticipating any sudden movement or uncommon sound coming closer. After the deadly silence of the shrine, the monastery was a delirious cacophony of turmoil.
Silently, careful not to disturb anyone, they slipped out of the dormitory. For a while, they wandered around aimlessly, following the song of the cicadas and seeking out the less populated areas. It was more a feeling than concrete knowledge leading their way to what they really sought, gradually navigating them through hallways, gates and porches that all looked the same. That feeling was what told them to stop before a pair of narrow wooden doors in an unassuming corridor seeming no different from the rest. As soon as they pulled the creaking doors apart, it was unmistakable where they were. The smell, the atmosphere, the tension in the air, it all told them that they found the right place.
Naked feet quietly padded on the tatami mats as Kenjaku crept into Tengen’s bed chambers. Here they could feel it even stronger. That light, the steady unyielding pulsing of power. Their new guardian was an unusual spark of life they couldn’t help but be drawn to. A safe haven. A star in the night.
For a moment, they stood before the futon, waiting for an admonishment and to be sent away. She must know they were here.
Nothing happened. Tengen didn’t even turn around to them.
Hesitantly, they knelt down and slipped under the covers. No protest, no movement. Carefully, they drew closer, seeking out her body heat. At the lack of acknowledgement of their trespassing, they curled up against her back.
Just like their mother she laid next to them quiet, stiff and motionless. Unlike their mother they could hear her breathing and feel the slight rise and fall of her chest against their arms with each inhale and exhale. Unlike their mother she was warm. Tengen smelled of incense and lavender and green tea. No rotting flesh.
Fingers buried in the cloth of her robe and face pressed into the curve of her back, Kenjaku felt themselves gradually sink deeper into a restful sleep.