InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Promise ❯ P ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"Promise" by Abraxas (2007-05-11) remixed from a Japanese folktale

"I am not afraid," said the dying wife."But one thing alone troubles me.My monk, I would like to know who will be taking my place with you.

"Sango!" answered the sorrowing husband."No one alive.No one of this world can replace you."

At that moment, when he uttered those words, he was speaking out of his heart for he truly loved the woman.

"You will not remarry?On your word, on your vow," the slayer gasped her voice strong yet faded.

"On my word I promise," the monk replied, his hand stroking her pallid face, her onyx locks.

"My monk, bury me by Kohaku and the children in the garden.Under the shade of the cleome.I thought about it – the idea that loneliness might urge you to marry again – that you would not want my grave to be – but you promised no earthly creature would be taking my place.So I can be granted this one last wish.I want so much to be buried there.I think there, there more than anywhere, I will be nearer to you.To hear you.To see you."

Miroku was unable to resist the tear.

Inhaling the scents of the candles lit about the bedroom her mind was drawn toward the bells.Someway, somehow, as her world evaporated her image of the monk fused with the effects of his profession.He melted into the aroma of the essences; he became the clangs of the bells.And she wanted those things, like his loyalty, to be hers eternally as if clinging onto his memory would be the key to endure death.

"Bury with candles and a bell.Bury me with those things.So I can have you with me forever."

"It’ll be the way you wish.But don't speak of death and burial.You live still."

"No, I will be dead by morning.But do not forget.I will not forget."

He kissed her lips and whispered:"I promise."

Sango smiled and imagined things.The world the way it could have been.If the children had not died at birth fulfilling Naraku's curse – if Kagome had not sacrificed herself to defeat that monster – if Kohaku had not been corrupted –

It was a universe of ifs and could have beens.

"I do not wish for more.It would be inhuman to wish for more."Suddenly she was calm and serene as if already dead.She continued, speaking though the lips were not moving:"My monk, you have been very kind to me but do not forget."

Sango shut her eyes and died as effortlessly as a cat feigned sleep.

And she was buried in the garden behind the house amid the web of the cleome.A pilgrim's bell on a leash was interred with the body along with oils and essences.the grave the monk erected a monument and engraved it with verses the slayer often sung over the graves of the children:


***********

Within a year of Sango's death the wolf prince Koga wondered if Miroku considered another marriage.

"You're young and alone," the demon said often enough that night."And I remember your...notoriety...what ever happened to that Miroku?"

That Miroku is dead and buried, he thought but betrayed nothing of the sadness.Rather, he blushed and laughed at the bluntness of his friend.Wolf demons were not known for tact.And he was about to reply when another demon weighed in on the situation.

"Well, Koga, you know that since Naraku's defeat lifted the curse of the kazaana, the urge to continue the line –"

"That urge is impossible to resist for any man," Koga interrupted.Clearly, the subject of the monk's status was a common and familiar topic of conversation between those two demons."Sooner or later it emerges.That is the way of things.Sango knew that, Miroku."The wolf served himself a cup of sake."After Naraku...honestly, I didn't believe I'd survive that battle and I didn't imagine I'd witness Kagome's death.I thought about following Inuyasha's example."There was a silence that chocked even the candle light."I tried to be celibate but the urge, Miroku!"He put aside the sake and stared at the monk."You're young and it's not right that you're alone.It's against nature.And you know it.I see you with the cubs.You want it.You need it."

Miroku nodded.

"I was prepared my whole life to be a father."

Hachi scratched his chin as he through aloud:"If we are to marry off the monk, then who could be chosen?There were so many possibilities."

"Hachi?"

Again Miroku blushed.

"Ah!I know – but after so many years she could be taken!"

"She was very attached to Miroku," Koga added – again betraying that they often discussed their friend.

"Indeed.She could have held out."The raccoon also put down the sake."With your permission, master, I could be matchmaker."

Miroku looked at Koga and at Hachi.How long have they conspired, he wondered, or is my loneliness as obvious as their motives?"Alright, alright," he uttered at last.


***********

And so it was that the woman was contacted and the arrangement was made.The bride, Koharu, was young and despite Miroku's misgivings he found that he loved her but it was a quiet sort of love.Steeped with guilt and regret for the promise and the tomb haunted him within that house.

Nothing happened to disturb the happiness of the wife until a week after the wedding.Miroku was away with Koga to investigate a presence within the territory of the wolves.That very first evening alone she felt uneasy in ways she could not explain.

And from the death of day to the birth of night, she was overcome as it were by fears that continued to be vague and formless.Until the accursed witching hour when she heard the clang of the bell.The impression was that of a pilgrim, a traveler, lost yet she wondered who it could be, who it would be passing through that wilderness at that time.And then the tolling stopped – and she imagined the stranger was far, away – but after the pause it sounded again nearer now than before.

The interloper was approaching the house!

Suddenly the animals of the forest came alive with an eruption of sound unnatural and terrifying.She, too, was overcome as the spasms of nightmares came upon her. She tried to get out of bed or sink into the blanket but she could not move.All the while, from the secluded garden to the vulnerable house, echoed the clang of the bell.The tolling taunted her.

At last the candle light brightened and a figure slid into the bedroom.A figure dressed like a slayer of demons.A figure eyeless and lipless for it was dead.

Even without a tongue it spoke:"Not in this house – not in this house – shall you stay!Here I am mistress still.You will go and you will tell no one why.If you tell my monk I will tear you to shreds!"

Still speaking, still echoing the threat, the haunter vanished.

The wife was struck senseless by the fear and through the night she remained so.Indeed, it was not until the light of the sun penetrated the windows that she was reassured the world was normal and safe again.Then and there she doubted the reality of what she remembered.Yet the experience was vivid enough that she did not dare speak of the visage.

The following night, however, Koharu could not doubt the truth any longer.Again the clang of the bell.Again the forest howled at midnight.The creatures seemed to be so close that she imagined the animals brushing against the house.Once more the candles intensified and foretold the approach of the specter.

Vainly she strove to arise – she struggled to act – but she could not as much as close her eyes.Out of the void the dead emerged and hissed:

"You shall go and you shall tell no one why.If you ever whisper this to my monk I will tear you to pieces!"

The haunter of the dark loomed over the tatami, the blanket, the pillow and, face to face with the wife, echoed the threat.The youthful, living woman tasted the earth the dripped off the figure's teeth.She felt the weight of the bell against her neck where it rested.

It had to be real – and closer to the figure than she ever really wanted to be she became aware of a new and terrible dimension of fear.Even while it repeated the threat there could be heard a voice within the corpse uttering fragmented words disconnected to the events of the present.A voice of memories randomly strung together."My monk...no earthly creature...you promised... remember!My place! On your word, on your vow, you promised...."

Then the candle light extinguished and all was shadow.


***********

The next morning, when Miroku returned, Koharu protested:
"I beg you, husband, let me go home."

"Are you not happy?" he asked surprised by the request."Who was unkind to you while I was away?"

"It's not that," she answered.Sobbing, she fell upon her knees and leaned against his robes."I've been treated well but I can't spend another night in this house."She added, almost incoherently:"And I can't be your wife anymore.Please, Miroku, let it end!"

He embraced her shoulders.

"I can't believe it, I can't imagine it, why you'd want to leave unless someone had been unkind.Surely you don't want a divorce over nothing?"

Koharu trembled as if ice-cold water coursed through her veins.

"If we are not divorced I know I will die," the wife confessed.

The husband sank onto his knees.Remaining still and silent he tried to think of a reason for her declaration.What could have happened?And then he replied:"I promised I would not marry again but I broke that oath.Yet that was not all.I also broke.When we courted and when we wed, when I realized I loved you, I knew then and there I was damned.Even the dead can be betrayed and I know I will not be forgiven.But, my Koharu, that's why I can't just give up now.Unless you can offer a reason I can't bring myself –"

Koharu felt obligated to speak and she told him everything.

"Now that you know I am dead – the monster will come back and kill –"

"No."Miroku stood, aghast.It couldn't be Sango! he thought.Hoped, wished.

It must have been a demon but he could not sense the presence of anything alien either to the house or to the garden.Examining the bedroom he found it to be devoid of any demonic evidence.Worse, there was nothing about that corroborated the wife's story.There were no scratches along the floor.There were no traces of dirt or vegetation upon the blanket.

But then, at the end, he stumbled across what could have been the cause of the fear:the urns of oils and essences that had been burned as candles beside the pillow.

"You lighted these while I was away."Miroku hugged Koharu, caressing her hair and whispering into her ear."Those candles come from the temple.They help us mediate but unless you're accustomed to the scent, as Sango and I were, they affect the senses negatively."

It seemed it was a plausible explanation.Certainly, it conformed to the reality revealed by the investigation.Left alone in that house, in that wilderness, with Sango's grave nearby, terrible thoughts would have clouded Koharu's mind.The feelings, combined with the hypnotic toll of the bells – which he placed all about the house as though it were indeed a temple – intensified by the potent aura of the incense, it must have been too much for the young and uninitiated wife.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have warned you.I'm sorry you suffered so much."

It was the way he spoke, sweetly and considerately, that she melted and grew ashamed of the fear.Koharu resolved to remain with Miroku in the house.And for many nights afterward happiness was restored.The wife was content.Until the day the husband said:

"I will be going into the village.But it won't be long.The magistrate thinks his daughter's possessed – she's threatened the lives of several, other women – but Shippo thinks there's a man at the center of the matter.But I won't be long, my Koharu, and I won't leave you alone either.Ginta and Hakkaku are keeping you company tonight.You'll see, you'll sleep in peace, I promise."


***********

Ginta and Hakkaku spent the evening telling the wife all about their adventures with Koga and their experiences with Kagome and Sango back when Naraku was a threat.She enjoyed their company; their youthful, carefree spirits were so unlike Miroku's solemn and melancholic demeanor.And she felt safe to be with them.Safe enough that she forgot the fear.

At last, when the time came, she lay down to sleep and the wolves took their places by the corner of the room.

As the sun rises and sets thus with inhuman, mathematical precision Koharu awoke at midnight.There was nothing but the winds that stirred beyond the window and the guards who snored at the rear of the chamber.Indeed, everything appeared to be ordinary but there was a sense, subtle and indistinct, suggesting the unnatural lurked beneath that cloak of night.

In the darkness, for the candles were unlit, she noted the silence.It was like a tide rising and flooding her senses.The effect was as palpable as the explosion of the wilderness.

Startled, she screamed yet nothing louder than a whisper passed out of her lips.She struggled toward the wolves fighting the apathy of the body, her movements rough and arthritic as if she were already dead.The strain could not be overcome; and rather than walk she crept along the floor snakelike winding into the corner of the room.There in the shadow the images of Ginta and Hakkaku were like mirages too unreachable to be real.

Just as she neared the demons – just as she came so close to them she almost felt the fur of their hides – she screamed.But neither stirred.They were frozen in time and space unmovable.Then she shrieked again for the last, unimaginable effect materialized:only something as simple, as ordinary as the glow of the candles could have proved the revelation that she was not alone....


***********

Entering the bedroom with Koga, Miroku beheld by the light of the lamp the body of his wife headless and amid a pool of blood.

Still huddled at the corner were Ginta and Hakkaku.The wolves slept unmolested.At their leader's growl they sprang awake and stared aghast at the scene unfurled across the floor.

Koharu's head was not within the chamber and the hideous neck wound showed it had been torn off.A trail of blood, trickles here and there, led from the room to the window that had been shredded.The four followed the tracks into the garden.Over blades of grass, through patches of sand and rock, under entangled violet flowers there they found themselves face to face with a nightmare.

It was the figure of the slayer.Long ago dead yet standing erect before the tomb.In one hand was the bell, its strap fused into the decay of the hand.In the other hand was the head, it dripped fresh, red blood.

"My monk!My monk!" it raged.

For a moment they stood confused.Until the eye-sockets glowed red.Koga unsheathed his sword and Miroku aimed his staff.Together they struck the corpse.

"I remember!" the voice persisted as it echoed within the body – but it was only the memory of a voice.

And before any part of the corpse hit the ground it evaporated into ash.Rags and fragments of bones scattered about the garden.

The bell, liberated from the dead, rolled to the men.A weathered, fleshless hand, though torn off the wrist, still writhed as it gripped Koharu's head.

Miroku placed a spell upon that hand and it, too, vanished.

The wolf gave the monk the bell.

Miroku sighed:he gave Sango the bell to remind her spirit of his loyalty – that he would be there always – now, now it reminded him of his betrayal.

"When the soul parted the impulse of the flesh remained.Untethered by its former, living conscience, memory – of that love strong enough to survive death – it attracted the aura of a demon and gained life.Urged by the monster it knew no better than to be enraged by my broken promise."


END

A/N: see "A Japanese Miscellany" by Lafcaido Hearn, 3rd ed. 1968