Chapter Text
A bright yellow balloon, first of many, drifted up into the sky to sail away on a gentle summer breeze.
The sky it floated in was a perfect shade of blue - just the kind of sky you wanted to see on a festival day. Other balloons, still firmly fastened down for now, bobbed against it, and flags flapped and flared their colors against its backdrop. A few wispy clouds floated high above the festivities. Also, there was a plane.
"Looks like that's the place," said Manjoume.
"Sure looks like fun!" his co-pilot agreed cheerfully. "Do you think they have candied apples? Suddenly I could really go for a candied apple."
A hand emerged from the rear seat to swat him gently.
"We're not here to have fun, Fubuki," she said. "We're here on business."
"You're here on business," Fubuki pointed out, reasonably enough. "I'm here to help fly the plane."
"So fly it already," said the voice implacably.
Fubuki put on his best pathetic expression. "You're such a mean sister, Asuka!"
Manjoume stifled a sigh. Fubuki and Asuka were, considered individually, two of his favorite people. He hated getting caught between the two of them when they squabbled, as they so often did.
"How do you want us to fly, then?" he said. "I mean, do you want me to circle over the festival for a while, so you can get some photos of it from above, or would you rather I go straight for the landing?"
"Hm... circle a bit," Asuka decided. "It will help me get an idea of the lay of the land."
Manjoume nodded and tilted the plane's wings slightly, beginning a long slow circle around the festival grounds.
He was vaguely aware, as he did so, of a sense of dissatisfaction radiating from the rear of the plane. Asuka was a reporter for the Domino Daily, recently hired and keen to prove herself. It was her constant frustration in life that her employers seemed to think that, as a woman, she should prefer to focus on cultural events and human interest, and not follow serious stories like politics or murder trials.
"So, what's the deal with this festival, anyway?" he asked, in an effort to keep everyone calm until they landed.
"It's a local cultural affair," said Asuka. She may not have wanted the assignment, but that didn't mean she hadn't done her research on it. "There's a legend that a long time ago, there was a terrible heat wave where the sun burned so hot that all their crops started to wither and dry up. The people prayed to the mountain god, and he sent a great dragon to spread its wings, blotting out the sun and casting shade over the land until the heatwave ended. Now every year they celebrate the anniversary of the dragon's arrival."
Fubuki leaned forward a little for a better look. "So that's why all the dragon kites and banners and stuff, huh? Nice."
"Makes you wonder what really happened," Manjoume murmured. "I mean, you don't think there really was a dragon, do you?"
"Probably not," she said. "I expect there was a heat wave once upon a time, and then a thunderstorm that broke the heat, and people have played it up ever since."
"Too bad," said Fubuki wistfully. "I'd like to see a dragon."
Manjoume thought that he privately wouldn't have minded seeing a dragon either, but he was not prepared to say that in front of Asuka.
So instead, he flew steady circles around the festival grounds until Asuka proclaimed that she had taken enough pictures for now and was ready to land. Manjoume persuaded Fubuki to stop staring at the fair long enough to help him get the plane onto the runway.
The airport was busy, which was no surprise. The news agency they worked for was far from the only one who had sent a few people out to gather human interest, and there was the usual flock of tourists clamoring to see something that would enliven their daily lives. It took a while to get the plane landed and their luggage sorted out. It wasn't actually part of Manjoume's job to help Asuka carry her camera and the rest of her supplies, but somehow he and Fubuki always ended up playing the role of her photographers, sound crew, and pack mules anyway.
"So, where do we start?" asked Fubuki. He was looking around at the festivities with the air of a man already deciding which souvenirs to take home.
"We find some human interest," said Asuka. She consulted a paper. "I have the address here of a local who's supposed to be an expert on this town's history. A Professor Chronos - a teacher at the local college."
"How much is there to know?" Manjoume wondered aloud. "It sounds like you've pretty much got the basics already."
"Yes, but someone has to tell me about it or it isn't journalism," Asuka replied. "Anyway, we can get some more pictures of the festival on our way over. Then we'll talk to him and some of the other locals. I have a lead on a temple nearby that's supposed to have some connection to the dragon legend."
"And then we can enjoy the festival?" asked Fubuki hopefully.
She gave her brother a tolerant smile. "Well, that isn’t actually what we came here for."
"Aw, you're no fun," he complained.
She laughed. “All right, all right. We can enjoy the festival, but later. We have work to do now.”
“Okay!” said Fubuki, cheerful once again.
They struck out in search of a story. Manjoume had to admit, it looked like a pretty good festival. Nothing out of the ordinary - he could see why Asuka was frustrated at being here when more interesting things were going on in the world - but everyone looked like they were having fun. Manjoume admired the booths of local handicrafts, the dancers with their dragon puppets snaking their way through the streets, and the performers singing or acting on small stages. The smell of grilling food hung over everything, making him hope that Asuka would not get so invested in her work that she'd forget that a hardworking pilot needed lunch from time to time. Asuka paused from time to time to snap a photo of the festivities, but it was clear that she felt the real story lay elsewhere.
Eventually, they walked their way out of the crowd and into a quieter part of town. It soon became clear that their goal was a a cluster of buildings at the top of a sweeping staircase. An arch over the entrance explained, unnecessarily in Manjoume's opinion, that this was indeed the local center of learning.
"Is there any way to get in here without having to climb all these stairs?" he asked the world in general.
"Yes," said Asuka, "but we'd have to walk around to the other side of campus to get there. This way is quicker. Come on."
They went up: Asuka with her usual confident tread, Fubuki bouncing along like a dog on a walk, and Manjoume grumbling quietly to himself as he hauled the case of equipment up the hill.
And when they got where they were going, the office was empty.
"Well, now what?" said Fubuki. He peered into the empty office as though he thought the professor might be hiding under the desk or behind a bookshelf.
"I don't know," Asuka admitted. "He said he'd be here, and we are on time..."
"Then it's rude of him not to be here," said Manjoume. He slouched against the wall and glared at the office door as though blaming it for the teacher's failure to show up.
"Well, maybe he was just called away," said Asuka.
"He could have left a note for you," said Manjoume.
"Maybe he just had to, you know, visit the little boy's room," said Fubuki. "We should wait here a minute and see if he comes back.”
Another door further along the hall popped open, and a spectacled face peered out at them.
"Ah, hello," said the stranger. "Are you looking for Professor Chronos?"
"That's right," said Asuka. "Do you happen to know where he went?"
"I'm afraid he had to leave," said the man. "A plumbing emergency back at his house, I think. But he asked me to be on the lookout for you. I'm Professor Daitokuji, by the way."
"It's nice to meet you, Professor," said Asuka courteously. "I don't suppose you know when he's planning on coming back, by any chance?"
"I suspect he's going to be busy for a few hours," said Daitokuji, self-consciously adjusting his glasses. "But perhaps I could be of some assistance to you. You wanted to know about the history of this festival, didn't you?"
"That's right," said Asuka. "Are you a historian too, then?"
He smiled. "Not quite. I'm a folklorist, which is almost as good in this case, isn't it?"
"I suppose it is," said Asuka, smiling back. "All right. I'd love to hear what you have to say on the subject, if you have some time for us."
"I have plenty of time," said Daitokuji. His smile was self-deprecatory. "What I don't have is a lot of people who want to listen to me talk about folklore."
"Then it sounds like we'll be able to help each other," said Asuka.
So they all trooped into the professor's tiny, cluttered office. It looked a lot like the first one, save that the one they had started in was ruthlessly tidy and had better furniture. The chairs in here were old and threadbare, their stuffing showing in places, and the shelves were a wild jumble of books, papers, maps, cardboard containers, and random odds and ends. There was also a fat tabby cat asleep on top of one of the shelves. Amid all this, Manjoume and Fubuki had to find some way of setting up the cameras and microphones, and then of not knocking them over while Asuka listened to the professor tell the same story they'd already heard on the way over.
"Of course, that isn't the end of it," he went on.
"What do you mean?" Asuka asked, perking up a little. Manjoume got the impression that she'd thought this visit was turning out to be a waste of time and was just too polite to let it show.
"In some versions of the legend," said Daitokuji, "the dragon didn't just come of its own volition. A brave young man from the village went up to the top of the mountain to call on the gods for help. It was he who led the dragon down into the village. According to local tradition, he founded a temple afterwards to thank the gods for their gift. Some people even say that the dragon is still sleeping under the temple, and it will waken again if the town is ever in need."
"Huh," said Fubuki. "You'd think with all the racket going on outside, that dragon would wake up just to see what everyone is making such a fuss about."
Daitokuji smiled faintly. "Well, the village is a good distance out of town. Maybe dragons are very sound sleepers." He stood up. "Anyway, the temple isn't usually open to visitors, but I could get you inside if you'd like to see it."
"Oh, could we?" asked Asuka. It wasn't much of a lead, but it was something that probably no one else covering the event would have. You had to do what you could to stand out.
"I was hoping you'd ask," said Daitokuji, smiling. "The head priest is an old friend of mine. It will be nice to have an excuse to see him again."
"In that case, we'd love to," said Asuka.
"Then let's go," said Daitokuji. He collected a leather satchel and scooped a few papers and books into it, settled the cat on his shoulder, and headed for the door. "Did you bring your own car? No? That's all right, we can take mine."
Somehow he managed to get all his things out into the hallway without either dropping anything or bumping into the recording equipment. Getting everything Asuka and her crew brought with them back into its bags was a slightly more complicated procedure, but they got there in the end. On the whole, Asuka was in reasonably good spirits when they set out on their journey.
Who knows, she told herself, maybe this will even be interesting...
Inevitably, they had to reach the temple by climbing more stairs.
They should have expected that, Asuka told herself. After all, it was built into the side of a mountain. Whether they went via a path or a staircase, she should have known that a certain amount of "up" was going to be involved. She watched the professor lope along ahead of her on his long legs and told herself that if an academic who spent most of his day at a desk could make the climb, she could too.
When they reached the top of the stairs, they were greeted by a young initiate dressed in dark clothing, who bowed to them politely.
"Welcome to our dojo," he said. "We are honored to receive any guests who choose to - Fubuki, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm helping her!" said Fubuki, pointing at Asuka.
Asuka smiled. "Hello, Marufuji. I didn't realize this was where you had ended up."
Daitokuji looked confused. "You know each other?"
"Sure, we went to school together," said Fubuki. "We were best buddies, weren't we, Ryou?"
"I wouldn't say that," said Ryou, but he was smiling anyway. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"
"We came to see the temple," said Fubuki brightly. "I hear there's a dragon in it. Have you seen it yet?"
"Not yet," said Ryou. He turned to Asuka. "What are you really doing here?"
"I'm on assignment for the paper," said Asuka. "They want me to do a piece on the dragon festival, and the professor here said that your temple might have an interesting angle on it."
"Well, you're in the right place," said Ryou. "I'll go find Master Samejima and let him know you're here."
He marched off with a purposeful stride. Daitokuji watched him go, still looking rather surprised.
"I wonder how someone like that ended up in a place like this?" he said, half to himself. "He doesn't look like the type who would spend his days in a temple meditating."
Fubuki said, "He isn't. I mean, he wasn't. He was always ambitious - top of our class, everything going for him. Soon as he graduated, he was going to take on the world. But then he started getting sick, and it turned out he had some sort of heart deformity no one had realized before until the stress of school and everything started to get to him. He had to have some pretty serious surgery, and after that his family decided to pull him out of school for a bit. The master here is an old friend of the family or something and offered to take him on as a disciple. The family figured it would be good for him - lots of fresh air and healthy exercise and vegetarian cooking and no stress."
Asuka nodded. "I knew he'd gone to somewhere like this, but I had no idea he was in this specific place."
"Small world," said Daitokuji. "Still, it seems sort of sad, doesn't it? For someone who had the world at his feet to lose it all so suddenly."
"It was hard on him," Asuka agreed. She remembered how it had been, watching the former king of the school realize that no matter how brilliant his mind was, his body was letting him down. "But I think he's doing all right now."
Fubuki nodded. "I hear from him sometimes, when they let him go home to visit his parents. He likes the martial arts bits."
A short while later, Ryou returned.
"The master says he'll see you now," he informed them. He smiled. "Also, he says that after you've had your tour, I can go back to town with you and see some of the festival."
Asuka smiled. "That's wonderful. It'll be great to spend some time with you again."
Ryou showed them into the temple, pointing out some of the highlights.
"That's the vegetable garden. We grow or raise a lot of our own food here. ... That statue was carved by the temple's third master, more than eight hundred years ago. ... That's one of the training rooms. Our order encourages us to learn martial arts, to discipline our bodies as well as our minds."
He said it as though reading something out of a book. Asuka found herself wondering if he were really happy here, or if he was just going through the motions because he didn't seem to have any other options.
"Anyway, here is Master Samejima's study," he said. "I have to go back to watching the gate now. I'll see you later."
He left them at the door and hurried off. Asuka was left wondering what she should do next, but Daitokuji was already stepping forward to knock on the door.
"Hello, it's me!" he called.
"Ahh, Professor!" boomed a voice from inside. "Come inside. Introduce me to your friends!"
The four of them trooped into the room. It was barely big enough to hold them all, and Asuka decided it would be best not to even try to unpack the cameras. Instead, she took out her notepad and faced the man who had risen to welcome them. He was a large man, broad-shouldered and big-bellied, bald as a cue ball but with a carefully cropped beard and a kind face.
"So, you want to know all about our local dragon, do you?" he asked. "Well, I'm always glad to have visitors for any reason."
"I'm sure I'll enjoy hearing what you have to say," said Asuka politely. "Anyway, I'm Tenjoin Asuka, this is my brother Fubuki, and that's Manjoume Jun, my pilot and part-time camera man."
"I told them that you might be able to tell them more about the festival's history than I could," said Daitokuji.
"Well, I expect I can," said Samejima. He got up from his seat, and Fubuki and Manjoume had to back up into he hallway to make room for him to get out. "Come with me, and I'll show you some things that not every tourist gets to see."
Well, that sounded promising. Ready for anything, Asuka followed the man through the temple.
"This place," he said, his voice resonating in the bare hallway, "as the good professor probably already told you, was founded hundreds of years ago by a young man who was said to have called a dragon down from the mountains to save the village from drought. After the drought ended, our records say that the dragon burrowed into the side of the mountain and made a cave for itself, where it went to sleep. The young man built a shrine over it and resolved to pray and make offerings there daily, to thank the dragon for its help and to help it rest easily. But after a time, the people began to worry about having a dragon sleeping so close to the town, and sent men to drive it away or possibly even to hurt it. The young man was forced to bring in warriors of his own to defend the dragon. That is why this temple is also a dojo - because the original master of the temple was a warrior-priest himself."
As he spoke, he was fishing a heavy ring of keys from a pocket of his outer garment. They looked old, with intricate designs worked into their heads and barrels. He led his companions to a nondescript door. It looked very old, made of the sort of wood so ancient it had become almost like stone. Otherwise, it was worn and undecorated, and Asuka might have taken it for a storage room or the door to the cellar if it hadn't been so obviously their destination. Samejima selected a key and fitted it into the lock.
"I wouldn't normally allow outsiders in here," he said, "but since you're friends of Ryou's and the professor vouches for you..."
"We're honored," said Asuka. "Don't worry. We'll be very respectful." She cast a quick glance at Manjoume and Fubuki, to make sure they knew that they would be respectful or else.
Samejima opened the door. A cold smell of damp stone and earth wafted up. A staircase was just visible in the gloom, leading downward. From where Asuka stood, she had the sensation that it might just lead to the center of the earth. She felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Then Samejima took a box of matches from a niche in the wall and lit a handy torch, filling the stairway with warm light, and suddenly she could see that the staircase wasn't very long at all. She told herself not to be silly. All this talk about dragons was just superstition - there wasn't really anything down here.
As they descended the staircase, Manjoume whispered to her, "What was that look for? Do you think I'm going to start sticking sacred relics in my pockets or something?"
"I never know what you're going to do," she said sweetly. "Anyway, it's not you I'm worried about, it's my brother."
Manjoume thought about this.
"Fair," he agreed.
At the bottom of the stairs was a small landing and another door. This one had some care put into it. It looked just as old at the other door, but this one was covered in blue lacquer paint, and had a design of some serpentine creature inlaid into it in silver and mother-of-pearl. It almost seemed to move in the flickering torchlight.
"This is the oldest and most sacred part of the temple," said Samejima, keeping his voice low. "I will ask you to not touch anything while you're here, and don't take any pictures."
Asuka agreed that they would all be very careful not to disturb anything. Having gotten his reassurance, Samejima turned and opened the door.
She caught her breath. The temple upstairs had been a cheerful place, simple and wholesome, with a busy air about it. This place felt muffled by the weight of years. The room was made of dark gray stone, supported by pillars carved to look as though serpentine dragons were writhing their way around them. The floor had an aisle laid into it, a mosaic of white and black stone in an interweaving zigzag pattern. Something about it made Asuka feel faintly queasy if she looked at it too long.
But the centerpiece of the room was a heavy stone altar, and hanging above it, a tapestry showing the same snakelike creature picked out in blue and gray thread. Samejima strode forward, holding his torch up for better lighting.
"This is it," he said. "The sleeping dragon. According to legend, there is a sealed passage somewhere below or behind this altar, and opening it will release the dragon."
"Has anyone ever tried to open it?" Asuka inquired. She was looking at the tapestry and thinking, There's something wrong with this picture, I know there is. I just can't quite think what...
"A few times," said Samejima. "Once during a bad flood, a master of the temple tried to open the door but couldn't find a way in. Once a student tried it on a dare and was caught and suspended. Once by an outsider who managed to pick the lock. That was within my tenure. We heard the noise of him moving around and tried to apprehend him, but he gave us the slip somehow. Fortunately he doesn't seem to have taken anything."
"Amazing," said Fubuki, looking up at the dragon tapestry. "It's so old, but it's still here. I would have thought it would fall apart."
"It does," said Samejima. "Every couple of generations, we make a new tapestry to replace those that have been damaged by time. The old ones are entombed with honor." He indicated a rack nearby, containing several clay jars that presumably held the remains of old tapestries. "This one is due to be replaced soon. You can see that it's starting to break down in places."
"Oh, I see," said Fubuki. "So you can still take out the original to make sure you're getting it right."
"I'm afraid not," said Samejima, with a tolerant smile. "But we do our best to maintain consistency."
They spent a few more minutes looking around. Asuka examined the altar in particular, looking for any sort of clue to how to open a hidden door, but found nothing. She'd have liked to look behind the tapestry as well, but she had a feeling that touching something so old and delicate would definitely result in her being ejected from the temple in a hurry. At last, it became evident that she had seen all there was to see. She thanked her host for being so accommodating and allowed him to lead them back to the temple's gate.
Ryou was waiting for them there, still on guard, and wearing the slightly frozen expression of someone who is dying of boredom but doesn't want to let it show. He unfroze a little when he saw his friends returning.
"Hello again," he said. "Did you enjoy your visit?"
"I did," said Asuka, more or less honestly. "It was very educational."
Samejima smiled. "I'm glad I could be of help. But I'm sure you're all eager to get to the festival. Ryou, why don't you go ahead with your friends? I'll send someone else to guard the gate for a while."
"Thank you, Master," said Ryou. He looked more cheerful now that he was getting a reprieve.
Samejima smiled. "Just be back before nightfall, all right? You know what time we lock the gate. I don't want to have to send someone to let you in."
"Don't worry, I'll be back in time," Ryou promised.
Fubuki beamed and grabbed his arm. "C'mon, let's go see the fun! I want to buy okonomiyaki!"
"Have fun!" Asuka said to them. "You'll be able to find the hotel, right?"
"Sure, you bet!" said Fubuki, who probably could. As much as he acted like an airhead at times, he wasn't actually stupid, just chronically overenthusiastic.
They left Daitokuji and Samejima chatting companionably near the gate. Fubuki bounded down the stairs, dragging Ryou behind him. Asuka and Manjoume walked at a more dignified pace.
"So," said Manjoume, after a while. "You noticed it too, didn't you?"
"That depends," said Asuka carefully. "I noticed lots of things. What exactly did you think I noticed?"
"That tapestry, for one thing," said Manjoume. "I saw you staring at it. It's wrong, isn't it?"
Asuka was surprised. After staring at the tapestry for so long without being able to put her finger on what was wrong with it, she had started to tell herself that perhaps it was only the darkness and the chill and the flickering torchlight making her feel uneasy.
"I did get that feeling," she said. "But I thought my mind was just playing tricks on me."
He smiled at her, a quick there-and-gone-again thing that nevertheless reminded her that she actually liked him.
"Your mind never plays tricks on you," he said. "You're the most reliable person I know. It's one of the reasons why I like you."
She turned her head, pretending to be admiring one of the shiisa statues that guarded the path. She didn't want to let him see how his honest words had touched her; it might give him ideas.
"There's a first time for everything," she said. "Anyway, what do you think you saw about it? I had the feeling something was off, but I couldn't quite figure out what."
Manjoume shrugged. "Take a look."
He gestured, and Asuka turned to see where he was pointing. From where they stood, they had a good view of the festival. Asuka scanned the crowd, taking in the balloons, the banners, the dancing puppets.
"Oh!" she said suddenly.
Manjoume nodded. "Now you've got it. The dragon down there is a Western-style dragon. It's got wings. Makes sense, right? The dragon was supposed to have blocked out the sun. But that thing in the temple down there is an Eastern-style dragon. It's shaped like a snake, long and skinny. How could something like that block the sun?"
"You're right, that's just what was bothering me," Asuka agreed. "But it's like my brother was saying - that tapestry we were looking at was very old. It's been remade a few times. Maybe over the years, the legend changed, or else the tapestry changed to look more like what we'd expect a dragon to look like."
"Maybe," said Manjoume slowly, "but I don't think so. There were statues in that room, too, and they must be as old as the temple. All of them showed serpent-style dragons. Anyway, Western dragons with wings are a newer thing over here than the other kind. Serpentine dragons that get changed over time to more modern Western ones, that I can believe. But the other way around? Nuh-uh. I don't buy it."
"You're right, that is strange," she said.
"And there's another thing," said Manjoume, nodding. "Apparently they've got that whole fighting dojo up there to protect the dragon. But what for? Master Samejima said it was because the villagers were afraid of the dragon and wanted to drive it back up into the mountains. But apparently they also remember it so fondly that they throw a festival for it every year. What gives?"
"People aren't a monolith," Asuka pointed out. "There may have been a few old grouches in the village who didn't go along with the rest of the crowd. There usually are."
Manjoume hunched into his jacket. "I know, I know. But it still feels weird."
"Well, we don't leave town until tomorrow. We can do some more digging, maybe see if we can catch up to Professor Chronos. He might be able to fill in some of the blanks," said Asuka. "In the meantime, I think I have enough material for my story. Let's explore the festival for a while. Maybe we can catch up to Fubuki and Ryou and get dinner together somewhere."
She said it on purpose to needle him, knowing that he would rather have dinner with her alone. She supposed Fubuki and Ryou would probably enjoy reminiscing together more without two other people hanging around. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy Manjoume's look of consternation before relenting a little.
"Then again, maybe we won't," she said. She took his arm. "Come on. I'll let you buy me a taiyaki."
Manjoume brightened instantly. "Sure, whatever you say!"
Asuka smiled as the two of them descended the stairs and waded into the crowd. It had been a good day. She had learned something new and gotten a good story, she had run into an old friend, and now there would be a festival to enjoy. And tomorrow, there would be a mystery to explore. That would be something to look forward to. She hoped she'd be able to find some kind of explanation to the things that were puzzling her, if only because it would give her story some prestige.
It probably doesn't mean anything, she thought. But it would be nice to know...