The Mazoku and the Witch

The Mazoku and the Witch

A Short Story by Frank Holtham

Hidden outside the Shinomen Mori, nestled tightly within a copse of trees, lay a small home of wood and thatch, raised half a foot off the wet, muddy ground. A well maintained fence caged in a garden of root vegetables and herbs, keeping the animals at bay. A pleasant aroma of smoke and of boiled millet wafted out from the tatami curtain that took the place of a door.
Kneeling on the wooden floor, over a fire pit, Toritaka Yanagi cut up some ginger, onions, and other small herbs and placed them in the pot. She stirred them slowly, making sure not to have the porridge scald the iron pot in which she cooked.
After taking a small taste she smiled, happy that this simple meal had come out how she wanted. She casually stroked the scales of Shinzo, her pet snake that coiled over her shoulders, and looked out towards the door. “Finished. And just in time for our guest, it seems.”
There was a quick knock on the frame of the door. Yanagi casually brushed her silver hair, making sure every strand was perfectly in place. “I have been waiting for you, Uramasu-dono.”
Uramasu pushed past the tatami curtain and gave the woman a deep bow. “I was unaware you were expecting my company, Yanagi-san. Have my trips begun to develop a frequency?”
“The forest watches and listens, Uramasu-Dono. All you need to do is know how to listen.” She waved a courteous hand to a small cushion near the fire, a small lacquered bowl already prepared and ready. “Please, sit. It is late in the day and I am sure you are hungry. Even mazoku must eat.”
Yanagi waited for Uramasu to sit, and then she leaned forward, pouring the porridge into his bowl. The perfect figure of form and grace. She bowed graciously to her elder, waiting for him to eat. “You know, Uramasu-Dono. You need not wear that mask in front of me. I am sure it must be terribly uncomfortable.”
Uramasu gave no response, but silently ate his meal. He stopped after the first bite and looked down at the seemingly bland bowl of gruel before him. What was this spice? Could it be?
Cinnamon?
Noticing his surprise, Yanagi smiled victoriously. It was always fun to catch such an elder spirit off guard. “It’s no manju or dorayaki, but I hoped a little cinnamon would be to your liking. I know how much you mazoku love your sweets.”
“You spoil me, Yanagi-san. But you know this is not Meido. You cannot bribe me with something as simple as sweets alone.”
Yanagi placed the sleeve of her kimono over her mouth, hiding a smile. “Bribe? Now why would I want to do something as uncouth as that. I am merely preparing a simple meal to the tastes of a guest. Even out here at the edge of the Shinomen Mori, the laws of hospitality are still important. More important, even, I would argue.”
Uramasu watched Yanagi for a moment then finally gave up trying to read her. Regardless of her intentions, it had been too long since he had had the luxury of a cinnamon porridge. He had an important message he had to deliver to her, but he assumed it could wait another 30 minutes. It would be a breach of the tenant of courtesy to refuse her hospitality, of course.
After finishing his third serving, Uramasu finally placed his chopsticks on the lacquered bowl and bowed his head in thanks for the meal. He took a deep breath, and placed his hands on his legs and looked at Yanagi’s smiling face, once again giving up on trying to read her. “I come with a message in regards to one of your wards. The Toritaka girl.”
Yanagi gently stroked the white scales of Shinzo, her face cracking for the briefest of moments. “Akane-san? What of her.”
“For someone who knows so much of this forest, I am sure you know the grim details already. Your watchers have told you, have they not? About Akane-san and Shuichi’s-san encounter with the gaki. Devoured alive.”
Yanagi picked up a cup of tea, and used her long sleeves to conceal the crack in her almost perfect facade. She was well versed with dealing with Uramasu, but even she had her limits. Could he not bear to learn even the most basic forms of empathy?
She allowed herself a moment to regain her composure, placing the cup down. “”It is no wonder so many have a hard time dealing with you, Uramasu-dono. The life of an individual may not mean so much in the grand scheme of the Celestial Order, but to the ones that are left behind, they mean the world.”
“Forgive me, Yanagi-san. I thought you were above such things.”
“I am unsure how to take that, but I can tell you that even I have feelings, Uramasu-dono.” She allowed herself an open sigh. Courtesy seemed to matter little to Uramasu. “Akane-san was a good girl. A brave samurai. But this is the end that comes to all. I only hoped it didn’t have to have come so soon.” “If that is the case, then you should turn your watchers towards the Gate of Persistence.” He waited a moment, luring in her curiosity. “The details are unclear to me, but it would seem those two have managed to cheat death, and should be returning to Ningen-do from beneath the Torii Gate.”
Yanagi looked down at Shinzo and the snake silently slid off of her, slithering outside the house. Uramasu was not one to lie, or make such uncouth jokes. Which only made her more curious. “It is not every day you hear tales of mortals slipping past the watchful eye of Lord Emma-o. If anyone other than yourself told me this, I would chastise them as a fool.”
“The whims of fate are beyond the knowledge as someone as low as myself. But you are right, Yanagi-San. These things do not happen without reason.” Uramasu clasped his hands together and bowed his head, thanking her again for the meal.
“As much as I enjoy your company, Yanagi-san, I do not wish to further delay you. The sun will set shortly. The night is dangerous in the Valley of the Spirits.”
“I thank you, Uramasu-dono. Perhaps I should acquire some red bean paste at the Face of the East Castle. For the next time I prepare a meal for you.”
The faintest of a smirk cracked across the ancient spirit’s face, as he thought of the sweets that may soon be coming his way. He bowed once more and left, disappearing into the forest once more.