Pathway to Japanese Literature

1. Ginkgo Tree

Once upon a time in a certain land, there was a single beggar boy. This beggar boy was a born fool—a true loner with neither parents nor siblings. Summer or winter, he wore only a single tattered robe and had no fixed place to sleep, yet he possessed far more names than any ordinary person.

The first of these names was White-Haired Boy. This was because his head shone as white as snow. The second was called Ageless Boy because—though no one knew when he had first appeared—he always looked sixteen or seventeen years old despite having existed since ancient times beyond even elders' memory. The third was called Smiling Boy because he was always smiling. The next name, Mute Boy, came from there having never been a single instance of him speaking. The name King Boy came from this beggar never bowing when receiving things nor ever once asking people for alms, while Charity Boy was assigned because he never hoarded surplus from what he received—instead freely giving it all to other pitiful souls—and because he would risk his life to help whenever hearing of others' dangers or troubles. Other names included Mystery Boy, Immortal Boy, Healthy Boy, Wanderer Boy, Slowpoke Boy, and Big Fool Boy—the list went on endlessly. All the people cherished and respected this White-Haired Boy, while others found him eerie and feared him.

However, the White-Haired Boy paid no heed to such matters, always smiling leisurely as he wandered through various villages and cities, receiving things and helping people. One day, the White-Haired Boy came to the capital where the king resided and was dozing off in the shade of a large ginkgo tree standing by a river flowing along the outskirts of the city. Just then, a sudden shrill shriek rang out. When he opened his eyes, there in the river right before him was a beautiful young lady from somewhere, clutching a book as she fell in, bobbing up and down while being swept away.

Seeing this，the White-Haired Boy immediately stripped naked，plunged into the river，and pulled the girl out，but when her parents—having rushed over upon being notified by people—saw their daughter’s face revived by his rescue，they wept tears of joy before clutching her tightly over her sodden robes. They immediately placed the daughter and the White-Haired Boy in a hired carriage and took them to their home—a residence so grand and beautiful that one might mistake it for the king’s palace. Even merely glimpsing the gold, silver, and jewel ornaments adorning the robes of the daughter’s siblings and retainers who came out to greet them would have been enough to dazzle any ordinary person. However, the White-Haired Boy was not surprised in the least. Still smiling as ever, he was leisurely guided by the girl’s parents to an inner room, where he took a seat on a splendid silk-upholstered chair placed there.

There, the household members lined up before the White-Haired Boy with the girl—now changed into dry clothes—at their head and expressed their gratitude, but the White-Haired Boy gave no reply. He simply continued smiling and looking around at everyone’s faces. When the household members who had finished expressing their gratitude parted to either side and lined up around the White-Haired Boy, a large number of retainers soon entered from the opposite entrance, each bearing crystal bowls heaped with jewels and money, which they arranged in a row before his eyes. At that moment, the girl’s father stepped forward before the White-Haired Boy, ceremoniously bowed, and said.

"This cannot even begin to repay a ten-thousandth part of your kindness, but please deign to accept it as a mere token." "If you would receive it, nothing could bring us greater fortune." The White-Haired Boy scrutinized those offerings. Yet he showed no particular gratitude nor refusal, merely continuing to smile as he looked around at the retainers' faces, the parents' faces, and the daughter's face. Seeing this state of affairs, the daughter's father slapped his knee—

“Ah, now I see—this was my error.” “It appears you have never laid eyes upon such things before.” “Then I shall present something more immediately useful to you.” When he said this and signaled his retainers with his eyes, the large number of retainers withdrew with understanding. This time, they brought light, warm-looking beautiful robes and hats, along with food so delicious it could make one’s cheeks melt—all piled in heaps—and stacked them before the White-Haired Boy’s eyes. However, the White-Haired Boy remained smiling as ever, though apparently still not having had enough of his earlier nap, narrowing his eyes with a sleepy expression.

The crowd could only think him an utter fool for refusing such precious offerings. They were utterly astonished, thinking that with all those treasures, one could become a renowned wealthy figure even in the capital. The girl’s parents were also at a loss and tried everything they could to express their gratitude, but there was truly no way to thank him beyond this. Finally, having no other choice, they declared that anyone who could devise a way to express gratitude that would please the White-Haired Boy would receive all the gifts of gratitude there. But given that he was a fool, there was simply no contending with him.

Even when they said, “We’ll support you in this household for your entire lifetime and let you indulge in every luxury imaginable,” or “We’ll have you change daily into robes made by the capital’s finest tailor, serve you its most exquisite cuisine, and show you the most amusing spectacles in this city,” or proposed, “Let’s go mountain hunting,” or “We’ll take you boating,” he showed not the slightest sign of pleasure. Instead, blinking his large eyes, he wore an expression that seemed far more grateful when someone simply led him to a sunny spot for his afternoon nap.

Finally, when they had all grown weary and exhausted their patience, the daughter—who had been sitting in a chair from the start, watching this scene while sighing repeatedly and lost in thought—now slowly rose and said in a clear voice:

“Father, Mother. No matter how precious an offering we present to Lord White-Haired Boy as thanks, nor how wondrous a spectacle we show him, I believe he shall never deign to take pleasure. I know full well the reason why.”

she declared.

“What? Are you saying showing any gratitude to Mr. White-Haired Boy would prove futile?” “And what reason might that be?” The parents asked their daughter in unison. The crowd nearby gasped in astonishment, all eyes fixing upon the girl’s face at once. Under their collective gaze, the daughter hesitated with flushed cheeks before steeling herself— “The reason lies fully written within this book.”

As she said this, she took out a book with a black cover from her bosom. “When one reads what is written in this book, Lord White-Haired Boy stands revealed as king of a mysterious country beyond anything ever seen or heard by our people.” “Therefore, no matter how many precious things you offer him in this world, or how many entertaining spectacles you show him, I believe there remains no cause for him to deign being pleased.” “Moreover—the fact that Lord White-Haired Boy saw fit to save my life had been ordained long ago. As proof, this book contains precise accounts of everything from my fall into the water until the moment of rescue.” “It was never with any base design of receiving gratitude that he extended his saving hand.”

she declared resolutely.

Not only her parents but the entire crowd were utterly astonished by the daughter's mysterious words, vacantly comparing her face with the White-Haired Boy's for some time. However, as the story was far too strange and hardly believable, Father began shaking his head side to side—

“Now child—are you truly saying such things? I simply cannot accept your story as truth. Where in all creation did you obtain such a strange book?” he pressed in rapid succession. The daughter answered with unshakable solemnity and composure—

“No, I am not mad in the least. “And furthermore, I harbor not a shred of doubt regarding what is written in this book. “Whether it be Father, Mother, or anyone else—should you but once deign to hear the tales inscribed within this volume, you would surely deem them true as I have. “For within these pages concerning Lord White-Haired Boy and myself, every event past and those yet to come are recorded in meticulous detail without error. “Thus by reading this book alone shall you fully comprehend how I came into its possession. “Moreover, what shall become of Lord White-Haired Boy and myself from this moment onward—all shall be revealed to you in due course.”

The more everyone heard of this mysterious tale, the more astonished they became, until their gaping mouths remained frozen open in disbelief.

In the end, her parents too found themselves at a loss, and so they resolved that at any rate, they would have their daughter read this book through once and listen to it, then determine whether it was true or false.

When the daughter, having received her parents' permission, began reading the book, everyone in the room fell as silent as a forest after rain. Only amidst this, the White-Haired Boy alone—utterly baffled by it all—blinked his large eyes rapidly while entranced by the girl’s beautiful voice; however, he soon grew weary of listening and began dozing off once more.

The young lady paid no heed to this and, spreading open the book, began reading aloud in a clear voice.

The story went like this.

II. The Black-Covered Book What is written in this book is the world's most mysteriously fascinating tale—one that befell the world's cleverest person and the world's most foolish person. No one who reads this story will truly act upon what is written herein. Everyone would think such absurd, mysterious things could never exist in this world. Only the world’s wisest person and the world’s most foolish person alone read this as truth. At present, there exist only two such people in this world. One is the immortal beggar White-Haired Boy—the Smiling King—and the other is Princess Mirume, youngest daughter of Duke Mirurō, this country’s Prime Minister. And thus, the owners of this book—those who read its contents as truth from beginning to end—are none other than this White-Haired Boy and Princess Mirume.

In this book, whatever its owner wished to know about their own or others’ circumstances—or whatever they wished to inform or tell others about—freely manifested as illustrations and text. Now, because Princess Mirume wished to read aloud to her parents and others the details of how she had come into possession of this book, this story had to first begin with her own circumstances.

Princess Mirume, who was now reading this book aloud, was—as previously mentioned—the youngest daughter of Duke Mirurō, the wealthiest man in this country who held its most esteemed position and status, having just turned fourteen this year. Born with an intense love for stories, it had become her custom that she could not sleep each night unless she heard one new tale. For this reason, the Princess’s parents bought her one new storybook every single day, but now those books had filled five warehouses to capacity. No matter which bookstore was searched above these, there seemed to be not a single new storybook different from any before.

However, this posed one problem: Princess Mirume had an exceptionally good memory. No matter how old a story she had heard, she remembered it clearly without the slightest error, and upon hearing just two or three words at the beginning, she would immediately recall the rest. For this reason, they could not read old books to her a second time. And yet, since there was not a single new story left in all the world, the Princess found herself unable to sleep peacefully at night, longing and longing each day and evening for fresh tales to hear.

Yet when the Princess thought that telling her parents about this matter would only cause them worry, she endured by deliberately pretending to sleep soundly every night while pondering nothing but whether there might be some way to hear new and unusual stories.

However, one morning, the princess, having again not slept a wink through the night, rose dazedly, washed her face, ate her meal, and absentmindedly stepped out onto the veranda to gaze at the garden scenery. It was mid-autumn, and the garden flowers lay drenched in dew, blooming so profusely they nearly dazzled the eyes. Yet again, she found herself thinking of stories—ah, if only those flowers were kindly spirits who could each tell an interesting tale! If only those birds chirping in yonder grove were celestial beings who might fly about and recount what they’d seen! As she wearisomely pondered these fancies alone, suddenly by her ear—

“Princess Mirume, Princess Mirume”

Having been called in a strange voice, she turned around in surprise. Looking closer, it was none other than a red parrot that Princess Mirume's brother Beniya had entrusted to her just yesterday—since he would present it to the King tomorrow, he had asked her to keep it until then—and which Beniya's servant had brought from the eastern mountains. When Princess Mirume saw this, she formed a lonely smile— "Oh, so it was you who called me just now." "Oh, what a clever bird you are!" "You've already remembered my name." "You must just be imitating Father or Mother, I suppose." "You're truly impressive, I must say."

Saying this, she approached the cage. However, while perching on the central perch of the cage, the parrot continued calling Princess Mirume’s name—

“Princess Mirume, Princess Mirume, Princess Mirume” Hearing this, Princess Mirume laughed even more— “Oh, what an amusing parrot you are!” “I understand, I understand—am I not right here?” “And do you have some business with me then?”

she inquired. Then wondrously, the Red Parrot flew at once to the golden mesh before the Princess and, staring into her face with crimson eyes—

“Princess Mirume, Princess Mirume—I have business with you! I have a story—an interesting story!” called out [the parrot].

When Princess Mirume heard this, she turned deathly pale in shock. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such a bird would speak to her like a human being—it was only natural for her to be suspicious. As she stared blankly at the parrot, too stunned to speak, the Red Parrot continued shrieking undeterred—

“Do not doubt, do not startle, Princess Mirume, Princess Mirume.”

“Your wish has now been granted.” It spoke of wanting to hear a new story.

“Your wish has now been granted. Go, go to the town! Go to the town all by yourself. Find the one who has lived longest in this vast town. Ask the white-haired person. Ask the person with a mysterious appearance. The life story of that person… The astute Princess Mirume.”

The clever Princess Mirume. "Do not doubt, do not question—it’s no dream, it’s real!"

“Do not doubt, do not question—it’s no dream, it’s real!” Princess Mirume finally returned to herself at this moment and，while thinking as if awakening from a dream，listened intently to the parrot’s words. And so，in my heart，while marveling at and doubting this mysterious bird’s words，I also came to understand that what it was saying was neither falsehood nor nonsense but rather a most convenient and clever method for hearing truly rare stories，and I felt genuine admiration. Indeed，if I could find in this town the most peculiar-looking，longest-lived white-haired old man—the rarest of them all—and have him recount his life story，I would undoubtedly be able to hear a fascinating new tale. Moreover，even if I couldn’t find such a person，since life stories would differ for whomever I might catch—ten people would yield ten different tales—there was no fear of hearing the same story twice. And as thanks—if I used the money meant to buy a single book—the poor would surely delight in telling their tales．Having conceived this idea，I could no longer endure a single second’s delay． Forgetting all about the parrot before her eyes，she immediately returned to her room—no sooner had she placed a hat upon her head than she dashed out of the house alone and raced to the bustling bridge approach．

After standing there waiting for some time—since favorable circumstances would soon come her way—a white-haired person of precisely the strange appearance she had envisioned arrived, so the Princess rejoiced as though ascending to heaven and suddenly dashed up to him, clinging to his sleeve while producing a ten-yen gold coin and requesting his life story. That person was wearing three layers of tall hats stacked high, covering down to his ears. He wore a red undergarment and old half-length boots over his hairy bare feet protruding from beneath a blue waistcloth, his ruddy face bore a bushy white beard as he exhaled alcohol-tinged breath and stared at the Princess’s face with drowsy eyes in apparent bewilderment. However, when he heard the general details from the Princess, he opened his mouth wide and burst into laughter—

“Ah….” “I see.” “So you came all the way here to buy a story?” “Now that’s a clever scheme.” “Gotta say—snagging me first was downright sharp of you.”

“There’s not another soul in the whole world with a life story as interesting and amusing as mine. Now listen up—I’ll tell you straight. I’ve loved drink since I was knee-high and couldn’t quit no matter what. Drank when my parents died. Drank when my wife and kids died too. Left my house burning and kept drinking when it caught fire. Drank when happy. Drank when sad. Drank yesterday. Been drinking right up till this moment today. Tomorrow and the day after... reckon I’ll drink till I croak. And now I’ll go drink with your coin too. There’s your happy ending... or not. Ha! No, thank you kindly. Farewell.”

In the midst of saying this, he snatched the ten-yen gold coin from the Princess's palm and staggered off unsteadily.

The Princess thought it was a tremendously interesting story, but it was simply too short to be engaging. So this time, determined to have them speak at greater length and detail, she approached an old woman who happened by after the drunkard, explained her purpose, and entreated her to share her life story. This old woman too cut a bizarre figure: her head crowned with wildly disheveled white hair beneath a straw-woven hat, her body draped in a long grain sack pierced with holes for arms and neck, her feet shod incongruously—one in a slipper, the other in a knee-high boot—as she bent so low over her roughly three-foot cane that she seemed nearly crawling along the ground. And just like the previous drunkard—evidently startled by Princess Mirume’s abrupt peculiar request—she gripped her cane and straightened up slightly, fixing the Princess with milky eyes rounded in astonishment; yet soon she smirked while pocketing the gold coin and made to shuffle onward. The Princess frantically clutched at her sleeve——

“Wait, Granny! What about your story? Please do tell me your life story.”

“There is nothing to tell.” “I have merely lived tediously long for thirty thousand days—that is all.” “Why, thirty thousand days... that makes eighty years.” “But surely something unusual must have happened during that time?”

“Ah… “Oh yes, there were just two things.”

“What kind of things were they?”

“The first was witnessing a story-obsessed person for the first time in my life.”

“Oh?” “When and where?” “Right now, here.”

“Oh!” “Then what’s the other one?” “This marks the first time in my life that I have held a ten-yen gold coin in this hand.” “Thank you very much indeed.” “Farewell.”

With these words, she shook off [the grip] and went off somewhere. Because everyone she met treated the Princess as either a madwoman or a fool—mocking her mercilessly before taking her coins—her purse became completely empty within less than an hour. Among them, the cruel ones—instead of taking money or anything else—

“I’m busy right now. Can’t waste time dealing with fools like you,” snapped some who then strode off. The Princess had become utterly despondent—in such circumstances, she would likely never hear an interesting or unusual story in her entire life. She wondered if his red parrot had lied. If she truly could never hear another new tale from now on, then all joy would vanish from her life—perhaps death would be preferable. Alas, how pitiful everything had turned out. Sniffling over this pointlessness, she wandered aimlessly until reaching a riverbank at the town’s edge. As she moved to sit beneath a great ginkgo tree there and rest her weary legs—before even settling—she spotted something unexpected at its roots and nearly leapt up with joy. What she found there was this mysterious storybook titled White-Haired Boy.

The Princess immediately found this book lying at the base of a ginkgo tree coiling like a dragon. Convinced it must be one she had never before seen, she impulsively tried to rush over and seize it—only to jolt to her senses and halt mid-step. Since it looked quite old, this must surely have been a book someone had left behind here. Realizing that silently opening and reading it would be no different from theft, she withdrew her outstretched hand.

The Princess found it intensely frustrating that despite having fortuitously encountered such a precious thing, she couldn't even lift a finger and had no choice but to wait for the owner's arrival. If only the owner would come quickly. "If only they would lend me this book too," she thought, standing there stamping her feet in frustration. But for some reason, not a single human-like figure who might be the owner came; instead, ginkgo leaves fluttered down from the sky like golden snow, gradually beginning to pile higher and higher around the book. As the black cover gradually disappeared from view, with just a couple more leaves about to bury it completely under ginkgo foliage, the Princess—who had been enduring as long as she could—finally reached her limit. Unconsciously, she rushed to its side, brushed aside the ginkgo leaves, snatched up the book, and feverishly flipped open the cover.

Then the Princess discovered something so marvelous there that she wondered if it might be a dream. On the opening page, written in crisp characters, stood the words "White-Haired Boy and Princess Mirume" perfectly aligned in two lines. Though she had long known of the White-Haired Boy through detailed accounts from an attendant, seeing her own name precisely paired with his before her very eyes left her convinced this could only be someone's elaborate jest.

However, when the Princess hurriedly opened the next page, she realized that this time their names were not nonsensically paired together—the book truly contained an account of events that had occurred to her and the White-Haired Boy. On its third page was depicted the White-Haired Boy wearing a crown and Princess Mirume dressed in splendid queenly attire, both standing side by side with serene smiles. The Princess could no longer tear her eyes from this book for even an instant. She immediately opened the fourth page and began reading the story written there from start to finish. Since it described her own unmistakable circumstances in perfect detail—from how her love of stories drove her to seek life tales for purchase, to her discovery of this very book at the ginkgo tree's roots—she became utterly absorbed. Wondering what would happen next, she turned page after page while walking homeward, step by step drawing nearer to the stone cliff along the riverbank. Just then, two or three people who happened to be passing by saw this sight and were frightened out of their wits—

“Look out! Young lady, look out! You’ll fall!” “You’ll fall!”

They shouted at the top of their lungs and rushed over.

However, because the Princess was absorbed in the book, even the people’s shouts failed to reach her ears. No sooner had she stepped one foot beyond the stone wall, still believing herself to be walking on flat ground, than she plunged into the water with a splash and was swiftly swept downstream. However, thanks to good fortune and the White-Haired Boy, she had narrowly escaped death. This encounter led Princess Mirume to bring the White-Haired Boy to her home, where she read aloud to her parents and all present the strange events that had occurred thus far between herself and him. Everyone was genuinely astonished, wondering whether these were merely tales written in that book or actual events that had truly befallen the two. Through this current account, they realized that the long-lived white-haired figure with a strange appearance—whom the Red Parrot had previously mentioned as an "old man"—was neither an old man nor an old woman nor anything of the sort, but rather this White-Haired Boy. Indeed, if it was the White-Haired Boy, he must have possessed a life story unparalleled in all the world. Moreover, since these people were the first in the world to hear it, and since it seemed to intertwine with Princess Mirume’s own circumstances—portending that they would become king and queen of some yet-unknown land—everyone had already grown unbearably impatient to learn what came next—

“What happened next?” “Please read ahead quickly!” they urged in unison.

III. Blue Eyes Princess Mirume shared this doubt; she wondered whether all events since the White-Haired Boy had rescued her from falling into the water earlier—everything up to now—were truly happening to her or were merely tales written in this book. Even before being urged by others, she burned to read ahead about how the story of herself and the White-Haired Boy would unfold; nevertheless, she first composed herself, looked around at their faces, and smiled gently. And then――

“Please wait. I myself do not know what will happen next. I will now read ahead, so please be quiet and listen.” With these words, her heart racing, she opened the next page.

When she looked... what could it be? The next page was blank paper—not a single character remained written there. This is strange... Though certain the story couldn’t end so abruptly here, she frantically opened the next page—only to find it equally blank. She wildly flipped through every subsequent page to the end, yet all remained the same. In heartrending shock at the thought that her and the White-Haired Boy’s story couldn’t possibly conclude this way, Princess Mirume flipped back through the earlier pages—and was astonished anew. Not one character remained of the previously continuous text; the book had become entirely identical to a blank notebook.

Princess Mirume, utterly astonished by what had happened, inadvertently took her eyes off the book—yet another wonder—for though moments earlier she had surely been in a great hall surrounded by crowds reading aloud, now when she looked around, all of that had vanished clean away along with the book’s text and illustrations. She found herself standing dazedly at the base of the ginkgo tree once more, still clutching the volume. Moreover, at the base of the ginkgo tree where the book had been placed earlier—when and from where had he come?—there sat the White-Haired Boy drowsily dozing off while listening to the story. The Princess found herself completely at a loss. All those strange events from earlier were not real after all; they had merely seemed to occur as she read through the book’s story and imagined herself acting accordingly. In truth, she must have been standing there all along from the very beginning, while the White-Haired Boy had come to sleep at her side unnoticed. The Princess grew increasingly astonished; she inadvertently dropped the book she had been holding with a thud. Soon after, a gust of autumn wind blew in, tearing the binding apart into shreds that transformed into thousands upon thousands of ginkgo leaves scattering everywhere around her. When she looked, she saw that each leaf now bore a single character, the text appearing clearly upon them.

Overwhelmed by layer upon layer of wonders, the Princess stood transfixed as though possessed by a fox. As she gazed vacantly, another gust of wind swirled up, whirling the character-inscribed ginkgo leaves into a towering pile.

Then from somewhere appeared an old man with eyes, hair, and beard all deep blue, wearing a yellow robe—but when he saw this mountain of ginkgo leaves, he too looked exceedingly surprised for some reason—

"This is disastrous!" "They can’t be left unattended for even a moment!" With these words, he immediately entered a stone gate nearby and soon returned with a large sack and broom. He swept all the ginkgo leaves into it and began carrying them off somewhere. The Princess—who had been watching this—suddenly realized that gathering those characters written on the ginkgo leaves would surely reveal how their story continued. Fearing disaster should they be taken away, she abruptly cried out—

“Old man, please wait a moment!” she called out to stop him.

However, the Blue-Eyed Old Man paid no heed, merely—

“What do you want?” Having dismissed her with these words, he hurried off ahead. When Princess Mirume saw this, she frantically chased after the old man— “Old man.” “Please, I implore you—wait!” “Then let me read the characters written on those ginkgo leaves.” she entreated earnestly. However, the old man replied in the same disagreeable tone——

“Don’t talk nonsense.” “This is demon’s writing.” “If you look at this, you’ll be possessed by a demon.” “I can’t let you see them.” he replied while quickening his pace and hurried off.

Princess Mirume, beside herself with anxiety, clung to the old man and inquired— “Then what will you do with it?” “What a noisy girl,” “I’ll take them to the mountain and burn them all up.” “Wha—?! “That’s such a terrible waste, isn’t it? “There are many fascinating stories written there, you know. “I must read them through, or I shan’t sleep tonight. “Starting tomorrow, my life will have no purpose at all. “Please, please—show me mercy and let me read the characters on those ginkgo leaves! Right? Right?”

Pleading as if on the verge of tears, she caught up to the old man and tried to cling to his sleeve. But the old man spitefully shook her off— “Why should I care about that?” “The characters written on these ginkgo leaves contain Aimaru Country’s important secret story—if someone carelessly reads or hears this, a great calamity will befall Aimaru Country.” “I absolutely cannot show this to you all.” “Give up and go home already.” With these words, he quickened his pace even more and began walking.

Then the White-Haired Boy, who had been observing this scene, suddenly sat upright—apparently having thought of something—and began hastily chasing after them. Meanwhile, Princess Mirume desperately ran to catch up with the old man. Just when one might wonder what she intended to do, she pulled out small scissors from her pocket and made a small cut in the bottom of the sack he carried. And so she began gathering the ginkgo leaves that fell through this tear from behind without alerting the old man, reading aloud each character written upon them in a clear voice—yet these characters miraculously continued in perfect order until they formed into lyrics of a song as follows:

Four: Song of the Stone God “With each three-thousand-year spring, the ginkgo tree flourished and flourished.

With each three-thousand-year summer, the ginkgo tree grew lush and lush.

Across the vast sky near the treetops, the moon crosses and the sun passes. The streaming stars, countless in number, scatter down between the branches, Shaking a trillion billion leaves, this year’s autumn midnight, Characters dyed by frost in countless numbers, a story endlessly linking and continuing.

Wherever does spring come from? Wherever does autumn go? Every year flowers bloom without fail, every year leaves tremble without cease. The eternal mysteries of the world now manifest before our eyes, Though eyes may see and ears may hear, though limbs may lightly stir, Today forgets what yesterday wrought, this moment forgets what just passed, Forgetting without end—their own affairs and others' alike— They who lived countless years: hearing yet deafened, seeing yet blinded. The tale of a wondrous realm ruled by its mysterious king.

In the beginning of beginnings, when there were no living things in the world,

Only rocky mountains and muddy seas—within that pitch darkness,

A certain deity of the fiery mountain and a certain deity of the lake, Born between the two was a single giant man.

A skeletal frame of adamant, flesh and nails of marble. Hair of obsidian, skin of crystal, blood of ruby. In the very center of a vast wilderness spread with rocky crags,

Lying on his back in a spread-eagle position, he had been sleeping for tens of thousands of years, but— From beyond the heavens, a large star came flying, It crashed into the sleeping man’s side with a thud. The man groaned and opened his sapphire eyes wide; Where the end might be was unknowable—looking up at the vast dark sky,

From his left eye streamed sunlight; from his right eye flowed moonlight, Gleaming gold and silver, the two emerged side by side, One shone upon the Land of Day; the other journeyed to the Land of Night. Whenever he blinked, he became stars; whenever he breathed, he became wind, Whenever he sneezed, he became thunder; whenever he yawned, he became clouds. The man eventually sat bolt upright and heaved up his mountain-sized frame, When he looked all around, every direction was nothing but rock and soil. From the very beginning, not a single blade of grass grew where any living being might dwell.

Overwhelmed by loneliness, the man called out, "Hey! Hey!" Yet around him lingered not a single soul, nor any shadow resembling a human presence,

A world of endless stones large and small, where he alone exists. In the blue sky, clouds billow. Countless clusters gather together, Joyfully heading west. Yet he alone exists. In the black sea, waves rise. They come side by side in harmony, Crashing and playing on the shore. Yet he alone exists. A colossal man of mystery from the very beginning. Neither house nor clothing nor food,

Though he needed nothing at all, as for companions—there were neither humans nor— Birds and beasts remained mere fools; not a single blade of grass met his gaze, The terror of the vast wilderness. The ferocity of the stony wilds. Though brought forth through great travail, there was neither voice to answer nor thing to grasp— Loneliness, anguish, desolation. At last the man's patience frayed,

Who ever created me in this wilderness? Who ever brought me to this wasteland? Had I just kept sleeping—had I slept until death— I would never have known this desolate loneliness—this cruel anguish—

Who ever struck me with that thudding blow and roused me—

He abruptly stood up and shouted at the top of his voice, but— The only response was the mountain echo's voice, carrying across the fields to their farthest edges. In the blue sky, clouds billowed. Yet he alone existed. In the black sea, waves rose. Yet he alone existed. The man finally flew into a rage, grabbed himself by his own hair, With bloodshot eyes raised, glaring at the distant blue sky,

Crying at the top of his voice, he cursed, "Let even the heavens resound!"

Hear, O sky! Hear, O earth! Hear, O mountains and fields! Hear, O sea! Hear, O visible beings and unseen ones! Let all creatures listen! I will die right now—I will end it all here and now. I will curse heaven and earth for my own loneliness and perish. In such a lonely, terrifying place, living for so long,

"I would rather die than endure such sorrow," he thought. "Even if I have these eyes—if they never see anything interesting, never behold anything beautiful—they're utterly useless." He gouged out his own eyes and hurled them into the distant void. The eyeballs soared upward—then at their moment of impact with earth— transformed into a rolled book devoid of any written words. "And these ears too," he raged, "if they hear neither amusement nor others' voices—what good are they?"

He tore both off at once and slammed them onto the ground.

Then, the moment both ears also hit the ground, they became a heavy stone flute without a single hole. Even if there was a nose—as far as one could see across a vast field with no blooming flowers— if all it did was choke on dust, it would only prove a hindrance, so deeming it utterly useless, he tore this off too and slammed it down. With a clattering sound, a stringless moon lute— it fell between the stones at the giant’s feet. If there had been another person to converse with—but with no one present—this tongue too,

Deeming it useless, he bit through it with a decisive snap, spat it out between the stones. Along with it came a clattering—

A wooden bell without a pendulum rolled across the ground. Thus having chewed through himself and his own body, the giant, His breath ceased abruptly, and he collapsed onto the stony plain, His limbs and head scattered in pieces, rolled away from the torso. Just then, clouds billowed from all directions, thunder rumbled, and wind howled,

The light of sun and moon turned pitch black, whipping up sand and pebbles, The torrential rain that could float cartwheels became cascades of mud and gravel, His giant corpse too was buried beneath the deluge. At that moment, sea and field and mountain all reverberated as if to shatter,

In the midst of such terrifying, dreadful pitch darkness, From the stone giant's forehead, a red light shines,

The forehead bone split clean in two with a crack—in that very instant— A crimson parrot flew out and headed east. Then from the stone giant’s chest, a blue light shone, Adorned with jewel-like scales on its body, a slender sea snake coiled around it,

A large mirror appeared and flew off to the south. Before long, in the sky the clouds cleared, and on the ground the storm ceased blowing, Mud plains with mud mountains, the turbid sea and all else, At that horizon where nothing could be seen, a crimson, crimson sun, Spiraling round and round and round, it was dazzlingly beginning to sink. At that moment, from the depths of the ground, from his stone giant’s corpse, From countless pores emerged hundreds of millions upon countless, Large and small, of various sizes—stone eggs gushed forth, Illuminated by the warm day, they hatched one by one.

What emerged from his feet became grass and trees; what emerged from his torso became insects. What emerged from his hands became birds and beasts; submerged in water, they turned into fish.

What emerged from his head became countless humans,

[They] split open, crawled out into the world, and scattered as they are now— A single country was formed and given the name Aimaru. Now among them, a single one welled up from within the navel,

The small white grain transformed into a noble and august form, assuming the shape of a young lord who ascended the throne of Aimaru Country's king. Having taken his royal seat, he reigned safely through thousands upon tens of thousands upon hundreds of millions of countless years. Throughout this Aimaru Country, reaching every inlet and shore, all worked honestly for this rare long-lived king. Because they served their sovereign with loyalty, while the king remained present, not a single matter throughout the vast realm ever gave him concern, as he perpetually rested deep within the palace upon a silver bed,

Neither in waking nor in dream—His Majesty’s unknowing soul, escaping forth to other worlds, to the people of other worlds, "goes about demonstrating the carefree heart of His Majesty."

Having read this far—unfortunately—the old man who had taken the lead noticed his bag had suddenly grown lighter at this moment; thinking it strange, he turned to look back and found that the ginkgo leaves fallen from the bag on his back trailed behind him in a long line. Shocked and thinking *This is terrible!*, he checked the bag and found that the hole Princess Mirume had earlier cut with scissors was now open in a triangular shape at the bottom. When the old man saw this, how could he not be enraged—

“You wretched little girl, prepare yourself!” “Since you’ve pulled this mischief and ruined my crucial duty, I can’t let you live.” “See what I do to you!”

Roaring in a loud voice, his face instantly turned devilish as he discarded the bag and everything else, turned back, and came chasing after them.

Princess Mirume was doubly startled. This was no time for reading the characters on ginkgo leaves. In her panic, she fled and clung to the sleeve of the White-Haired Boy who had come up behind her— “Ah! Help me, please! “White-Haired Boy! “Help me, please! “I will be killed by that old gentleman! “Help me, please! “Please take me and run away! “Hurry! Hurry!” As she said this, she took the lead and started running. Seeing this, the old man grew even angrier, turning bright red,

“You wretched demon girl! Think you can escape me?” “I’ll hunt you to sky’s edge and drag you back!” “Once caught, you’ll breathe no more!” “You white-haired wretch trailing her—halt!” “Demons both!” “Country-wrecking demons!” “Having read the Stone God’s writings makes you demon shards!” “No escape!” “No mercy!”

He gave chase while shouting in a loud voice.

However, at this moment, while the White-Haired Boy—having been urged by Princess Mirume—fled together from behind, he caught the old man’s shouting voice and abruptly turned back; no sooner had he glimpsed that face than the old man appeared so startled he nearly lost his footing— “Ah! You— “Are you not His Majesty the King of Aimaru Country?” “Why has Your Majesty come here?” “And that form of yours… Ah, how awe-inspiring… yet wretched your appearance…”

The old man stood dumbfounded and came to a halt. However, Princess Mirume kept running ahead without noticing anything, and the White-Haired Boy clung close behind her; seizing the moment when the old man had stopped, they dashed away with pounding footsteps. At this sight, the old gentleman threw himself into a mad panic— “Ah! Your Majesty. Your Majesty. What in heaven’s name is this? Your Majesty, please wait! I beseech Your Majesty to wait! That woman is a demon… a great demon! Outrageous! Outrageous! Wait... I beseech Your Majesty to wait! Your Majesty. Your Majesty.”

Gathering his breath, he once again took to the air and gave chase. And so the three of them chased and were chased, running farther and farther from inhabited areas, but Princess Mirume let out a voice so painfully, so painfully unbearable— “White-Haired Boy… White-Haired Boy…” Calling his name, she kept running while glancing back again and again. From behind came the old man with bloodshot blue eyes— “King Aimaru-sama… Your Majesty… Lord Aimaru… Ah—” He gave chase while calling out. The White-Haired Boy continued running recklessly, gasping for breath.

Before long, the setting sun sank completely into the western mountains, and the surroundings grew cold and dim. Dew settled across the field as stars began to glimmer in the sky. Yet the old man never ceased his pursuit. When they finally pressed into the mountains—circling a small pond’s edge before plunging into a vast cedar forest—the world turned utterly black, leaving nothing visible ahead or behind. Guided only by Princess Mirume’s voice quivering with terrified sobs, he groped along tree trunks while chasing them. Soon enough, the White-Haired Boy grew gaunt with exhaustion, his breath rasping harshly. Still he ran—snagging on roots here, slamming against trunks there—until not another step could be taken—

“O—”

No sooner had he uttered this than he staggered and collapsed right there.

V. Seven Lamps

Strangely enough, the voice that had just called out seemed to have reached someone’s ears, for in the distance came a resounding— "O—O…"

A responding voice was heard. When the White-Haired Boy steadily raised his face and looked ahead, precisely where the voice had been heard, a single small lamp began to flicker faintly. Soon, that light became three. Then five. Then seven. In an instant, those seven lamps marched forward in orderly formation. Looking at the scene illuminated by these seven lights revealed a grand corridor adorned magnificently, where decorations of jewels or gold upon ceiling and walls reflected iridescent glimmers—a splendor truly blinding in its beauty. As time passed, the lamps gradually drew nearer until finally the forms of those bearing them came clearly into view.

When he looked, among the seven bearers only the central one was an old man wearing a yellow robe, while the remaining six were all twelve- or thirteen-year-old boys clad in sky-blue robes. And indeed, that old man was none other than the blue-eyed old man who had earlier chased Princess Mirume and the White-Haired Boy. The seven among them quickly drew near to his side, but when he looked around by the light of their hand-held lamps, here was another large, spacious room—far more splendid than the previous corridor. And when the White-Haired Boy turned to look at his own form—how strange! Until just moments ago, he had been dressed in shabby beggar’s clothes and should have been collapsed on the ground, but now he wore a white, lightweight silk nightgown and was buried within soft, thick bedding. And when he saw the hair cascading over his own face—what a sight! What had until now been white as waterfall water had transformed into thick, glossy green locks, and each time they swayed, an indescribably beautiful fragrance wafted forth. In the face of layer upon layer of strange and wondrous occurrences, any ordinary person would surely have fainted or else pinched their own body, thinking they must be dreaming—but the White-Haired Boy remained unfazed. He had been here since last night, the night before, and long before that, wearing an expression as though he had just awoken, and lay on his side watching the face of the old man who stood before him.

The old man, leading six children, came before the bed and bowed courteously. And then he timidly opened his mouth—

“Your Majesty.” “It is I, the Blue-Eyed Old Man.” “I have come at your summons.” “For what purpose has Your Majesty summoned me?” “I humbly beseech Your Majesty to command me in any matter whatsoever.” Even when questioned like this, the White-Haired Boy gave no reply and merely stared vacantly at the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s face. Then, seeming to recall something, the old man signaled to a child beside him. Soon one of them scooped water as pure as jade into a crystal cup and reverently presented it before him. When he took it and drank… how delicious it was… And it seemed some noble medicine had been mixed into that water, for all his previous exhaustion and suffering were completely forgotten, and he felt new vitality coursing through his entire body.

Lord Blue-Eyed Elder received the cup that Aimaru King (the White-Haired Boy) had drained, handed it to a child beside him, then immediately signaled with his eyes—dismissing all six children to a distant corridor—before crouching alone before the king and timidly opening his mouth—

“Your Majesty. “With all due respect, might Your Majesty have just now beheld some dream?” King Aimaru could not respond because he did not properly understand the words. As a sign of his incomprehension, he shook his head lightly from side to side. Yet the Blue-Eyed Old Man stared intently at King Aimaru’s face as though consumed by worry. Then, using even more courteous language, he timidly pressed again.

“Your Majesty.” “I have been Your Majesty’s guardian until today.” “Therefore, there has not been a single thing that Your Majesty has concealed from me until now.” “I do not dare to doubt Your Majesty, but could it be that Your Majesty has forgotten the dream you have just beheld?” “Might Your Majesty have chased after my trail together with that white-robed demon’s daughter and beheld the characters written on the ginkgo leaves?” “Surely, surely Your Majesty beheld it, did you not?” “If Your Majesty conceals it, no small calamity shall befall your person and this country’s future!”

The Blue-Eyed Old Man’s words gradually grew fiercer. And while staring at the King’s face with a look of terror, he pressed the question with all his might.

Why was the Blue-Eyed Old Man asking such things? And why did the story written on those ginkgo leaves trouble him so deeply? And why would such calamity befall them if they heard that story—and how did the Blue-Eyed Old Man know of it? If King Aimaru had been an ordinary human, he would have raised these various doubts and questioned the Blue-Eyed Old Man about the details. Yet King Aimaru remained as simple-minded, carefree, and silent as he had always been as the White-Haired Boy. First and foremost, he didn’t care in the least whether his current circumstances or those from before were real or false. Moreover, he had long since forgotten that he himself had once been the White-Haired Boy. And with his eyes rounded wide and blinking rapidly, he merely shook his head lightly once again from side to side.

When the Blue-Eyed Old Man finally concluded that the king had not seen that dream, he suddenly appeared relieved and let out a happy sigh. And then, while making a deep, respectful bow— “Your Majesty. “I have never been so relieved. “I humbly beg Your Majesty’s kind forgiveness for disturbing you late at night and uttering various discourtesies. “It is already dawn. “I will have the children called and prepare for the morning.”

he said.

After the old man withdrew with another deep ceremonial bow, the same six children in sky-blue garments who had come earlier now entered in procession—each carrying various grooming tools in their hands—and had King Aimaru prepare for his morning toilette.

One gently took the king’s hand and guided him from the bed to a chair, and another stood before him holding a large golden basin filled with water. One of the nearby attendants removed his garments. Another one had him rinse his mouth; yet another wiped down his entire body. The remaining one combed his hair from behind. The last one sprinkled perfumed oil. They all performed their duties in orderly silence—first dressing him in a black-ground garment adorned with gold braid, putting soft blue leather boots on his feet, fastening a sword inlaid with gold and silver at his side, then letting his perfumed green hair hang long before placing a magnificent golden crown upon it, and finally clothing him in a thick white fur coat so long it trailed across the floor. Thus the White-Haired Boy’s Aimaru King, who until now had worn but a single robe and gone barefoot, became so bound by heavy constrictions that he could scarcely move. Then the six children split into three groups, opened the six windows on three sides of the room, and let the morning's clear light and gentle breeze flow into every corner of the chamber. And so, in the translucent blue light of dawn, leaving behind King Aimaru—who gazed entranced at the beautiful scenery of stars blinking drowsily, the palace standing like a dream, the flower garden before it, and the fountain—the six children withdrew silently somewhere, along with the various grooming tools.

**Six: The Minister and the Fisherman**

From this point onward, the various events witnessed by King Aimaru were such that any ordinary person would have been astonished each time and left dazzled to blindness. As today was King Aimaru’s birthday, he made his morning visit to the Stone God’s Mausoleum—located in a forest of purple-tinted trees north of the castle—accompanied by Duke Beniki, a tall Prime Minister with black hair who closely resembled Princess Mirume’s father, and many guard soldiers. The divine splendor came when all those soldiers simultaneously raised their swords in salute. Then he proceeded to the palace’s grand hall where he received congratulatory words one by one from numerous esteemed officials, the four kings who guarded the nation’s four directions, and their retainers—the solemnity of that moment. Or there was the magnificent sight when he rode in a splendid twelve-horse-drawn carriage, guarded front and back by cavalry as he went to the vast southern plain outside the castle and conducted a military review with tens of thousands of soldiers whose exact numbers were beyond reckoning. Then when night fell came the extravagance of the grand music concert, grand ball, and grand banquet held at the palace. There was not a single thing among all that was seen and heard that did not astonish both eyes and ears.

However, King Aimaru—the simple-minded White-Haired Boy—remained as composed and leisurely as ever, smiling cheerfully with the dignity of one born to rule, making his many retainers feel him far nobler and more awe-inspiring than usual.

However, within this day, there was just one thing that King Aimaru seemed to genuinely admire as beautiful, lovely, rare, and mysterious. That was a parrot with a single red feather. This parrot had been sent by a boy named Beniya—the son of Prime Minister Beniki—who usually came to the palace daily as the king’s playmate but found himself unable to pay his respects today due to feeling unwell, sending it instead as substitute entertainment. It had been placed in a cage atop the ivory-covered desk at the center of the king’s chamber. Strangely enough, its singing voice perfectly resembled that of Princess Mirume, whom he had heard in last night’s dream; when he closed his eyes and listened, it seemed as though the princess had come right beside him.

Adding to this strangeness was the fact that King Aimaru, the White-Haired Boy—who would cleanly forget anything he saw or heard as soon as it happened—appeared to have retained vivid memories of Princess Mirume’s form and voice. No sooner had the banquet ended and he been led back to his chamber than he pricked up his ears at the Red Parrot’s song. Impatient even to change his robes, he hurriedly sat down on a nearby silver chair and listened raptly to its singing.

The melody of the song went without saying, and even the lyrics closely resembled the song that Princess Mirume had recited in last night’s dream. “In the blue sky clouds gather, but they vanish straight away.” “In the black sea waves rise, yet they vanish straight away.” “The age-old mysteries of the world—have you seen them? Heard them? Understood them?”

The dream I saw last evening—how strange and terrifying!

The White-Haired Boy's story. And my story. And again in the dream I saw—at the end of this life of mine— Last night into some forest with the White-Haired Boy I fled, Until collapsing at tree roots—I was Duke Mirurō's Third daughter named Mirume, But awakening this morning—how strange!—all before me unfamiliar, A minister of Aimaru Country—a duke called Beniki— Third princess—what has happened here?

Clothes, house, everything has completely changed—even my name— changed to Benikō. The only things unchanged are parents, older brothers and sisters, and retainers’ faces alone.

If I doubted this was a dream, those around me all burst into laughter, "What nonsense do you speak—did you have some foolish dream? You've always belonged to this house—our dear, dear Princess Benikō." From time immemorial, I loved stories more than anything, more than anything— Because I did nothing but read books, becoming utterly absorbed, My mind grew somewhat addled over those ten-odd years, I dreamed a ridiculously long dream of having lived elsewhere, Mistook that fantasy for reality—must still be half-asleep—

I was made a laughingstock by the odd one and everyone. But I simply cannot—whether the me of now is real, I cannot help but doubt—whether my former self was the dream. If my present is a dream—being laughed at by everyone so much— there should be no reason to doubt it— If my former self were real—the time before I began to dream— there should be no reason I cannot recall even a bit of it. If both present and past are real—or if both are dreams— I have become unable to tell whether I exist or not.

Whether it be a dream or whatever, my strange circumstances— Do consider carefully—right beside my window,

A large, beautiful Red Parrot that mimics my song.

Upon waking from a strange dream this morning—even as the sun rose and the moon set— Even if birds sang among the trees, the phantom lingering in my eyes— Snow-white hair and alabaster skin, a moonlike countenance with cloudlike brows, A figure of utmost nobility—the figure of a beggar king. Dyed his snow-white hair into vibrant hues, sending emerald waves swirling,

Presented with a golden crown and seated upon a silver throne—

Though not yet having paid homage, he would not be inferior to the noble ones of this land. My precious Elder Sister will soon become the Empress Consort— —that she would ascend to the position—so my Elder Brother declared this morning. The name of my Elder Brother Lord—how gallant it sounds—is Lord Beniya, The name of my Elder Sister Lord is Princess Benikō, bloom-adorned. I am my precious Elder Sister Lord’s truly auspicious happiness, Thinking them happy things, thinking them joyous things, I remain alone with the noble figure from last night’s dream, Longing for the white-haired noble figure as something nonexistent,

Who would pity this solitary existence of mine? Even if they deemed it pitiable, even if they deemed it unfortunate,

Even though I relive last night’s dream, there exists no way to see it again— In the blue sky clouds form—but they soon scatter and vanish. In the black sea waves rise—but they soon disappear away. This undying feeling of mine—have you seen it? Heard it? Understood it?

To halt birds coursing through the sky—this wish proves harder still. To scoop sweetfish from swift rapids—this wish proves harder still. Whether dream or reality still unknown—a phantom neither awake nor real—,

“This foolishly yearning heart—have you seen it? Heard it? Understood it?” King Aimaru forgot himself, utterly engrossed in this song. And so—as though continuing last night’s dream while envisioning Princess Mirume’s form—the parrot that had remained silent for some time once again lowered its head and began to sing a different song in the same voice and melody as before. “In the blue sky clouds form—but they soon vanish.” “In the black sea waves rise—but they soon grow calm.”

The enduring mysteries of the world—have you seen them? Heard them? Understood them?

Within Aimaru Country—in the southern lands—a lake— Among the many renowned lakes—the one called Tarumi—

A scene of my aged Father and me catching fish. Diving into emerald waves, chasing gold and silver fish, Sinking into sapphire depths, probing for pearl-bearing shells. Fish caught without end in number, shells gathered without cease in count. Now then, in joyful days—a small boat with small sails,

Carried by wind and wave—songs of the sea sung without end. Yet since last night, this happiness of mine— Is this truly all there is, or does this world hold more—

I cannot help but doubt whether there truly exists anything joyful.

The dream I saw at dawn this morning—ah, its wondrous strangeness and fascination. Father—who had been a fisherman—became the Mirurō Duke Lord, With my departed mother and my elder brother and sister all together, A tale of living happily through those ten-odd years. The tale of the ginkgo’s characters ceased abruptly at the most crucial point—

The tale of Lord Stone God had become intertwined with my own fate,

With the White-Haired Boy, the Blue-Eyed Old Man, and me—the three of us,

Pursuing and being pursued, the path ahead led into a pitch-dark forest. When I awoke and came to my senses, this body of mine remained unchanged as ever.

I saw ten-odd years of splendor in but a fleeting dream,

The sound of waves resounding through her pillow, the voice of wind blowing through the window, Her body lay amidst the dried straw, still clad in rags. Is the present me happy, or is the dream me happy? In the blue sky clouds billowed; in the black sea waves swelled.

Even if it's just a dream, I don't mind. Even if it's reality, I don't mind. I find it wondrously strange, fascinatingly terrifying— I wanted to see more of that Stone God’s story.

"What a terrible waste, what a terrible waste." "Oh my! You're the Red Parrot—the Red Parrot from my dream." It came to the window before dawn broke, clinging to the windowsill, bathed in starlight as it fluttered its wings.

“Were you truly here? Did you truly exist in this world? If you aren’t a dream—if you truly exist in this world—then those four tools of your monstrous comrades, and then again—”

Snakes and mirrors must also be somewhere in this country.

And just as you exist vividly before my eyes now, I properly retain Mirume's wisdom and knowledge. Even when awakening from dreams, I shall keep them undiminished. Was what just occurred an omen-dream or reality? That I might attain such noble standing— Could this morning's strange vision be a portent? Within the mysterious tome opened beneath the ginkgo's roots, Was my regal portrait mere illusion?

In the sky were countless white stars; in the sea lay the hue of blue waves. Trailing clouds lingered sweetly, already dyeing the hues of dawn, In the eastern sky appeared faint sunlight more beautiful than dreams. “Red Parrot, what’s happened to you? Oh, how terrifyingly beautiful—” A crimson-crimson radiance shone so dazzlingly bright—

It flapped its wings and soared high from the window, Just as sunlight broke over the eastern sky, Gold and silver cloud-waves rose from the sea's surface, Churning onward—leaving whitecaps rolling toward the horizon,

“Oh no—it’s disappeared…” King Aimaru had again become entranced by this song—narrowing his eyes raptly—and had forgotten about night’s deepening.

Then, as bedtime approached, the Blue-Eyed Old Man from that morning entered with six children holding handheld candles—but upon seeing the king who had placed the parrot’s cage in the pitch-dark room and was wholly absorbed in listening to its song—he appeared inexplicably alarmed and hurriedly approached before the king— “Your Majesty is doing something utterly preposterous. “Your Majesty, have you forgotten the ancient laws of this country? “‘Those who steal others’ voices, those who steal others’ forms, those who steal others’ lifeblood—these three are demons. ‘Smash them on sight, slaughter them, burn them to ashes and bury them in the earth’—have you forgotten these words, Your Majesty? “This bird is none other than the demon I just spoke of—the one that steals human voices! “The demon has come to steal Your Majesty’s voice! “Ah! “Terrible, terrible. “I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. “I shall take this bird and kill it, and be done with it.”

In the midst of saying this, he tried to take the cage and carry it away. At that very moment—through some twist of chance—the cage’s bottom fell out, so the parrot immediately burst forth fluttering its wings as if overjoyed. In an instant it emitted a crimson light so bright it dazzled the eyes while soaring high through the darkness into the sky and vanishing among the clouds.

Seven: Eyes, Ears, Nose, Mouth

The next morning, upon waking, King Aimaru promptly prepared himself and, just as he had the day before, visited the ancestral mausoleum north of the castle with Minister Beniki. However, after that, there were no grand events like those of the previous day. Led back to his room by his attendants, he finished a breakfast twice as splendid as yesterday’s.

However, when His Majesty had finished that meal, a single splendid soldier soon entered and, while performing a deep salute to King Aimaru—

“Lord Beniya has arrived.”

said. And when the king nodded lightly, soon after passing by the soldier, a boy clad in red clothes and white boots—who closely resembled his Benikō Hime—came running in, looking utterly delighted and full of energy. And after exchanging embraces with King Aimaru in greeting, Beniya immediately opened his mouth upon releasing their clasped hands—

“Your Majesty,” “Yesterday I wanted so desperately to come that I could hardly bear it!” “Truly, if I go even a single day without seeing Your Majesty, I feel so terribly lonely—as though I’ve been alone for one or two years.” “Instead today, let us do something amusing.” “Shall we go fishing? Shall we ride horses?” “Or perhaps go mountain hunting?” “I’ll accompany you in anything!” As he spoke with spirited dignity and earnest expression, anyone might have been tempted to join his play. Then Beniya suddenly noticed the empty parrot cage left by the Blue-Eyed Old Man beside the desk last night and, eyes widening into perfect circles, inquired—

“Oh. “Is this cage not empty?” “Has that red bird escaped?” King Aimaru nodded with a cheerful smile.

“Oh! Has it already escaped? Detestable creature! Even though I had taught it all sorts of amusing tricks. And where did it escape to?”

King Aimaru remained silent as ever and pointed to the east window from which the parrot had escaped the previous night. Seeing this, Beniya slapped his knee— “Ah! I understand. I understand! Then it must have returned to its former mountain dwelling. It seems when my subordinate went bird-catching there four or five days ago, it got caught in the net along with the others. Since I found it so remarkably rare, I entrusted it to my sister’s care. Though I never learned its name, it was such an amusing bird that could mimic any voice—what a dreadful shame this is! Then why don’t we do this? Let us go mountain hunting today. And shall we not recapture that bird once more? Oh, there’s no difficulty at all! I can catch it immediately and place it back in this cage. How does that sound? Wouldn’t that be the perfect solution?”

he urged eagerly. And then, as soon as King Aimaru gave a light nod, the quick-witted youth—appearing every bit the part—promptly ordered the soldiers and completed preparations for the hunt.

King Aimaru, riding a white horse and accompanied by Beniya—who carried a horn at his chest—along with forty mounted warriors bearing bows and arrows, departed leisurely through the castle gate while receiving salutes from sentries clad in resplendent armor. True to being the foremost capital of Aimaru Country, every street through which the king passed bustled with activity. Houses so tall they seemed to pierce the clouds stood densely without gaps, leaving the thoroughfares dim as the bottom of a well even at midday. Vehicles of varied shapes—drawn by horses, oxen, dogs, camels, ostriches, deer, and other creatures—proceeded in processional lines. And so the people—with hair, eye colors, and complexions differing in shades of red, white, russet, black, and more—wore clothes of their preferred styles and jostled through the gorgeously decorated shops as they passed one another. The sight resembled spring and autumn flowers flowing down a river all at once. However, when King Aimaru’s procession came into view, this bustling thoroughfare fell utterly silent all at once. In the blink of an eye, the path split left and right—drivers raised their whips, beasts bent their forelegs, and all passing people removed their hats to offer their deepest bows. The king’s procession passed quietly through that space, and upon soon reaching the town’s outskirts, they quickened their horses from there to cross the fields and galloped into the mountains lining the east.

That day, the forty mounted warriors in attendance all followed Beniya's orders, paying no heed to other birds or beasts. Focusing solely on finding any bird with red feathers that spoke in a human voice, they kept their eyes peeled and strained their ears as they advanced. At the forefront stood Beniya, vigilantly paying attention with the others—listening for any birdcall resembling human speech, watching for shadows of red feathers—as they gradually advanced deeper into the mountains. Yet all that met their eyes were slopes ablaze with autumn leaves. The only thing audible was the sound of a valley stream flowing in the distance. Even that sound would occasionally fade in and out; not a single cloud could be seen in the sky, not a single leaf stirred on the ground—a day so eerily still and clear it felt uncanny.

Nevertheless, they continued searching with undiminished focus. As noon approached, both people and horses entered a certain oak forest where they rested while consuming provisions. With an agreement to reunite there in the evening, the forty divided into four groups and scoured every mountain and valley, leaving no corner unsearched. Yet the deep silence persisted, and the red bird they sought showed neither shadow nor form. Among them, King Aimaru’s group of ten had searched from the previous oak forest eastward until evening, but even as dusk approached, not a trace of anything resembling it could be found—not even a single sparrow entered their sight—so they all became disheartened and utterly exhausted, deciding to return to the foremost oak forest as promised.

Then, at that moment, suddenly from somewhere far away, the ten heard a song being sung in a strange voice that was both birdlike and human, all at once. “Here I remain. Lonely here I remain. For the coming of my beloved one. I humbly await. Blue skies billow with clouds. Black seas surge with waves. The age-old mysteries of the world. Have you seen? Have you heard? Have you understood? Be it dream or reality. I remain here. Lonely here I remain. My name is Red Parrot.”

Everyone exchanged glances, and with a rallying cry, they suddenly surged with energy and dashed off. Yet somehow, all ten of them ended up hearing the voice in different directions—one east, another west—shouting "This way! This way!" as they scattered in all directions.

Left behind, King Aimaru—unable to discern its direction—wandered lost toward the source of the voice until he found himself deep within a certain valley’s recesses, entering a pitch-dark cedar grove.

By then, the short autumn day had already ended, and the voices of birds could no longer be heard; but in exchange, deep within the pitch-dark cedar forest, the flicker of bonfire light began to appear. When he saw the fire, the white horse that had been soundlessly carrying the king until now appeared startled—suddenly stiffening all four legs and ceasing to move—so King Aimaru dismounted, tossed aside the reins, and strode resolutely toward the bonfire. Looking closer, he saw four peculiar people lying down or sitting around it, warming themselves by the fire. At the right end sat a filthy old man with yellow hair hanging down, blowing a flute without holes, while next to him lay a completely bald monk ceaselessly shaking a wooden bell without a pendulum, devoid of eyebrows or beard.

Then, lying face-down at that end was an emaciated, pallid woman with a face where only her eyes gleamed, her black hair tangled and disheveled, holding in her hands a blank-paged book devoid of any writing or pictures that she was reading. And to the right of that sat a chubby, red-faced, completely naked baby cradling a stringless guqin and plucking at its nonexistent strings. Were an ordinary person to encounter such beings in such a place, their blood would freeze solid—yet King Aimaru remained unperturbed. Rather than recoiling, he approached them with a cheerful grin and held his hand over the flames.

Then the old man—whose face had been so deeply wrinkled that one couldn't discern where his eyes or mouth might be—no sooner saw King Aimaru approach and crouch beside him than he flung open saucer-like eyes from between his creases and a crimson mouth, letting out a raucous guffaw. At this signal, the other three sprang up at once and began spiraling around the bonfire and King Aimaru in a grotesque dance. First, the emaciated woman opened her blank-paged book and began dancing while singing with a strange melody, then the baby followed along, slapping the stringless guqin noisily with his palms. Following this, the remaining two swung their tools wildly while scuttling about in unison like crickets or shrimp. The song went like this:

“Seized!” “Seized!” “Sweet!” “Sweet!” _The time to become king has come._ “Seize this country and do as we please—”

“The time has come to indulge!” _We are Lord Stone God’s_ _Four treasured vassals._ _Eyes and mouth and._ _Nose and ears and._

At the dawn of Aimaru Country, Lord Stone God—the master— with nothing to see and nothing to hear, the loneliness and pain of being utterly alone— unable to endure, he gnawed his own body, gnawed heaven and earth and perished.” In his eyes: nothing but wilderness stones, resentment of having nothing to see amassed— ears: nothing but wind’s howl and waves’ roar, ears: resentment at hearing naught else— nose: the scent of a lake’s fragrant dust, nose: resentment at smelling naught else— tongue: no one to converse with— whether weeping or laughing—a solitary self, lonely, lonely resentment amassed—

“Left behind and perished.” “Want to see—want to see—the eyeball’s craving—” “Ears—the wish to hear everything—” “Nose—the wish to smell everything—” “Tongue—the wish to speak everything—” “We are Lord Stone God’s” “Four tools filled with resentment—” The emaciated woman who emerged from the book. The old man who surged forth from the flute. The naked baby who emerged from the guqin.

The shaven-headed monk who emerged from the bell. The four retainers—Lord Stone God’s— “instruments to gnaw upon this world” The shaven-headed monk’s wooden bell—

To shut the king’s mouth. The document the woman holds— To crush the king’s eyeballs. The guqin that the baby holds— To block the king’s nose. The old man’s stone flute—

To lock the king’s ears. And thus, having driven out the king, The four would take the king’s transforming into a single form wield the king’s authority “to do as we please.” Delightful. Delightful. Splendid. Splendid. Got him! Got him! Sweet. Sweet. To the king. The time has come to become [king]. For this country— Selfishly proclaiming, “The time has come to indulge in pleasure.”

And so they went on singing and dancing, dancing and singing in this manner over and over, until eventually the completely naked baby stopped playing the stringless guqin, at which point they all stopped dancing abruptly at once and handed over the tools they each held to King Aimaru. When King Aimaru casually accepted the wooden bell without a pendulum from the shaven-headed monk—how shocking—his lips and tongue suddenly went numb, and he could no longer even speak. Next, when he received the blank book from the emaciated woman, his vision vanished. When he received the guqin from the baby, his sense of smell ceased to function. When he received the flute from the old man, his ears finally went deaf, leaving him utterly unable to tell west from east or even know where he was.

The four demonic beings, having seen this state, once again gleefully danced around King Aimaru—

“King Aimaru has finally died. He lived yet ended up dead. Present in this world yet absent from it.” Delightful, delightful, delightful!

Our master Lord Stone God— Though he could see with his eyes and hear with his ears, In the very heart of a vast wilderness, There was nothing to see or hear— The loneliness and torment of utter solitude Unable to endure it any longer, he resented heaven and earth— “and resenting his own body, perished.” The lingering resentment’s single-minded determination entered an eyeball and became a woman, remained in the mouth and became a monk, moved to the nose and transformed into a baby, remained in the ear and became an old man— Now in this world, to King Aimaru The former master’s loneliness and torment “The time has come to make him know the loneliness and torment.”

Even if flowers bloom or crimson leaves fall, Even if winds blow or winter rains come, He neither sees nor hears. He feels neither hunger nor thirst, but in return— Even if he were given the finest feast, "he can neither taste nor perceive any fragrance." Even if whipped until blood oozes out,

He was neither pained nor sorrowful. A body mysterious and devoid of sound or scent. He dwelled in this world yet knew it not. "To distinguish night from day was folly." "The dwelling place of his own self remained unknown even to himself." "A life so pitiful and lonely in all the world." "At the world’s dawn did Lord Stone God Born into darkness and returning to darkness."

A single solitary lonesome heart "Have you tasted it now?" "Taste it fully!" They sang and danced in unison until, with a piercing "Gya!" from the baby, the four plunged together into blazing flames... But before one could process this, from the roaring fire emerged a boy—identical to King Aimaru from hair color to robes—leaping forth before the king's very eyes. When observed, King Aimaru had already transformed into the shabby figure of the White-Haired Boy beggar, his green tufted hair having reverted to its original snow-white hue.

Upon witnessing this spectacle, the new King Aimaru burst into a dry cackle. He thrust his right hand into the nearby bonfire and began stirring it while chanting an incantation in a resounding voice— “Redder than anything in all the world, Brighter than anything in all the world, More beautiful than anything in all the world— Fire Spirit, Blood Spirit, Flower Spirit— When that feathered one beats its wings—”

In the blink of an eye to heaven’s edge—

Then again swiftly to the earth’s depths— In a single bound it dashes about— The glow of those crimson eyes— Night and day alike— To the farthest reaches—thousands upon thousands of miles— All becomes known without moving— Every voice that is a voice, every sound that is a sound— It hears all and mimics all— Voice Spirit, Word Spirit, Song Spirit—

“Come forth, Red Parrot!” As he shouted this, he pulled his hand from the flames, and there upon his fist perched a single crimson parrot. The crimson parrot was identical in every detail to his Red Parrot that had escaped from Aimaru’s palace and was now being sought by a host of soldiers throughout the day—save for its eyes alone, which shone like rubies or flames, casting light around them as never before. Placing it in his left hand, the new King Aimaru strode briskly toward the White-Haired Boy while—

“Well now, King Aimaru? Did you see? Did you hear? Did you grasp it?” “Ha ha ha ha! You see nothing! Hear nothing! Grasp nothing!” “But I’ll tell you anyway—though it’s pointless.” “As you’ve no doubt realized, I’m the transformed shape of those four demons from earlier.” “The very embodiment of the Stone God’s grudge.” “I’ve used that Red Parrot in every conceivable way to lure you here at last.” “Pity for you—I’ve taken your form.” “I’ll spare your wretched life if you become a lowly beggar—seeing nothing, hearing nothing, eating nothing, speaking nothing, smelling nothing—to roam the world.” “Meanwhile, I’ll disguise myself as king and do precisely as I please.”

“Ah, the moon seemed to have begun rising over the eastern mountains.” “Well.”

“It’s about time we set out.” He took two or three steps forward but turned back again— “Wait, wait.” “Here our faces are exactly alike, so none can tell which is the real one.” “I’ll just leave my mark while I’m at it.” As he said this, he grabbed a lingering crimson ember from nearby and suddenly pressed it against the White-Haired Boy’s smiling face, branding a large cross-shaped scar—

“Ha ha ha ha!” “With this done, surely none will recognize the true King Aimaru now.” “Oh.” “O horse, come, come!”

When he beckoned, the horse—which should have been frozen stiff like stone—now began moving effortlessly and came immediately to the king’s side. The king nimbly leapt onto it and, guided by the glow from the Red Parrot’s eyes, dashed out of the forest. Left behind, the blind and mute White-Haired Boy appeared unfazed by the earlier burn’s heat; with his face swollen red and taut, he wandered out of the forest clutching the four tools, grinning vacantly as he drifted without direction.

Meanwhile, Beniya and the soldiers—who had earlier split up in all directions to search for the Red Parrot—found nothing before night fell. When they hurried to the promised oak forest and looked, they discovered that while all others had now gathered, the all-important king was nowhere to be found. Deeming this disastrous, they all leapt onto their horses at once and galloped into the dark mountains while shouting “King Aimaru! King Aimaru!”—when from among the trees to the south, a crimson torchlight came into view.

However, strange to say—the horses carrying forty mounted warriors froze all at once upon catching even a glimpse of this light and would not take a single step forward. They wouldn’t budge no matter how they were struck or beaten. They stayed solid as stone, no matter how they were kicked or spurred.

They all panicked in shock, raising a commotion over what had happened, but Beniya especially was astonished— “Men! Be on your guard.” “That light looks suspicious!” “It might be a demon!” “Everyone, dismount at once!” “Those holding bows, nock your arrows.” “Those holding swords, unsheathe them.” “Well, well.” It was gradually drawing nearer. “Everyone, follow Beniya.” “When the signal is given, release your arrows and charge all at once!”

he shouted. In response to the shout, the forty warriors leapt from their horses all at once—twenty drew their bows to full moon arcs, while the remaining twenty raised their swords and were poised to strike at the luminous figure approaching before their eyes. But at this moment—their timing too late, his too soon—Beniya once again shouted loudly—

“Wait.” “Don’t be careless!” “It’s the king!”

he shouted. At that very moment, they realized that the figure approaching from afar—grinning atop his horse with a red bird perched on his left fist—was none other than King Aimaru returning, whereupon all the soldiers simultaneously removed their arrows, sheathed their swords, and prostrated themselves on the ground. Among them, Beniya, heaving a sigh of relief, was at once startled by the parrot’s eyes now glowing differently than before and wondered suspiciously why.

At that moment, the king stopped his horse before everyone and, raising his left fist high—

“Men! Behold! This is the Red Parrot—the very bird we’ve been searching for! Until now it had served as the mountain god’s messenger! I journeyed to the cedar forest in his valley depths, met with the deity myself, and learned of this bird’s many wondrous uses! Men! Mark it well!” As he spoke these words, he turned to face the Red Parrot— “Hmm. The moon is out.”

As soon as he uttered these words, the dazzling red light that had been present until now vanished, plunging everywhere into complete darkness. In its place, a large yellow moon rose perfectly round through the trees to the east. They felt as though they were dreaming within a dream, all the while marveling at each other over that mysterious act, then mounted horses that finally began to move at this moment, followed behind the king, and made their way back to the palace using the moonlight as their guide.

VIII Ivory Desk

The False King Aimaru returned from the hunting grounds to the palace and, after finishing his evening meal, immediately ordered his retainers to bring four new chairs to his chamber and arrange them around the Ivory Desk. Then, after dismissing his attendants to be alone, he firmly shut the entrance door, slid the bolt, and in the pitch darkness called out loudly— “Parrot!” “Parrot!” “Red Parrot!”

he shouted.

No sooner had his voice faded than a crimson light began to glow from the corner of the room, and the Red Parrot—flapping its wings in apparent delight—came to rest atop the desk at the chamber’s center. But what a sight met its luminous gaze...! Though until now this chamber should have contained King Aimaru alone, now there before them sat the four monsters from earlier in the forest—the old man, woman, baby, and bald monk—each properly seated upon one of the four chairs arranged around them.

Among them, the old man was the first to speak in a withered voice— “How about it, Red Parrot—are you pleased?” “Are you pleased?” “At last, this country has become ours.” “From now on, we can see anything we want, hear anything we like, speak freely, and smell to our heart’s content.” “Now then—how can we stir up great turmoil in this country and encounter strange, interesting things?” “Red Parrot, devise something for us.” “You can consider not just present matters but even future events without making a single error.” “First, since I emerged from the Stone God’s ear, my role is to hear anything and everything.” “Let me hear plenty of interesting stories, I beg you.”

said the old man. Then, the blue-eyed thin woman sitting beside him immediately negated those words— "No. I was born from the Stone God's eye, and my duty is to see everything without exception. I most urgently wish to see something fascinating. Red Parrot, quickly show me something fascinating and rare."

Before the thin woman could finish saying this, the red-swollen baby on the opposite side now cried out in a shrill voice—

“No!” “No!” “No no!” “Me first! Me first!” “I want to smell lovely scents!” “I want to smell fragrances—flowers and incense woods!” “Quickly, quickly!”

shouted the baby. Then, the Bald Monk sitting right beside them refused to be outdone and, in a shrill voice— “Hold it right there!” “Me first!” “I who was born from the Stone God’s tongue must be first to taste delicious things!”

insisted the Bald Monk.

The four remained like this for a while, glaring at each other in silence, but upon seeing this scene, the Red Parrot let out a strange voice and, cackling with laughter, said—

“King of Ears. “King of Eyes. “King of Nose. “King of Tongue. Pray listen well. Pray savor well. There is no precedence among you. Nor is there any who comes after. I shall soon present to all of Your Excellencies something that will make you gasp in astonishment. Have you forgotten the three treasures that emerged from the Stone God’s body at the dawn of this world—the Silver Mirror, the Jeweled Snake, and my own role? By means of the magic I was born knowing, it is my duty to observe and listen to all matters across the world and relay them to Your Excellencies. Furthermore, the Silver Mirror—its sibling—has the duty of presenting such fascinating sights to Your Excellencies, and as for the Jeweled Snake, its duty is to ensure such intriguing events commence.”

“At present, the Silver Mirror and Jeweled Snake lie submerged at the bottom of Lake Tarumi in the southern lands. Among them, the Jeweled Snake—wishing to present Your Excellencies, who have become one unified King Aimaru upon your first auspicious arrival in this realm—with a woman of unparalleled beauty and wisdom, one who would astonish even His Majesty, to serve as a conversational companion for your inaugural diversion, has entreated me to seek such a consort.” Hearing this, the Bald Monk slapped his thigh in admiration—

“Ah, I see—this was an excellent idea.” "When our master, the Stone God, first graced this world with His presence, His foremost trouble was having not a single soul to talk with." "If there had been even one person to speak with in His time, He would not have been driven to such loneliness." “And has that consort been found?” “Yes, three have been found.” “And what are they named?” “How old are they?”

Then the remaining three pressed in with their questions. “Yes. “The first candidate I discovered is Duke Beniki’s eldest daughter—Princess Noukou, younger sister of Beniya—aged sixteen. She is a gentle and quiet maiden. This lady recently entered into a pact with her brother Beniya that the true King Aimaru would take her as consort. Should Your Majesty make this maiden your queen, this realm would enjoy perpetual peace, and Your Majesty could reign upon the throne until time’s very end.”

“What? You’re saying that making this Princess Noukou your consort will keep this country quietly governed forever?” “No—if she’s such a quiet and gentle girl, having her as a conversation partner would surely be dreadfully dull.” “We hate that kind of woman.” “Moreover, this country staying peaceful forever is unacceptable.” “There must be some great commotion, and rare, dangerous, and mysterious things must start happening non-stop.” and the old man flatly rejected it from the start.

Upon hearing this, the Red Parrot tilted its head as if troubled and fell silent. Because it seemed to be deep in thought for some time, the four grew impatient and—

“Hey, Red Parrot. Then what kind of girls are the remaining two?” “Let us hear it quickly!” “Where are they?” “What are they doing?” they asked in unison.

When thus pressed, the Red Parrot had no choice but to answer—

“Yes. “Then I shall present them: the remaining two are both maidens of unparalleled wisdom and beauty in all the world. One is Duke Beniki’s youngest daughter called Benikō, and the other is the daughter of a fisherman named Mitori who dwells by Lake Tarumi in the southern lands, called Mirumo.” “However, as to which of these two shall become Your Majesty’s consort, I do not know.” “That is why I am considering the matter.” “What... You cannot tell which one?”

“Yes.” “Those two—from their facial features and intellect to their education, stature, and even the number of hairs on their heads—there isn’t a single hair’s breadth of difference between them.” “Therefore—as to which woman holds the destiny to become His Majesty’s consort—I cannot distinguish between them at all.” “Hmm.” “Then will we know once it’s over?” “Yes.” “However, I believe it will remain unknown until His Majesty’s life comes to an end.” “For this reason—should His Majesty King Aimaru take either of those maidens (though I know not which) as his royal consort—His Majesty’s life would inevitably end within the coming year, just before that consort’s true identity becomes known, and both I and the mirror’s lives would expire together with him.” “In exchange, during that time, each day would overflow with wondrous tales and rare stories—far more entertaining than spending a thousand years with Princess Noukou.”

“Hmm. That does sound rather entertaining.” “But wouldn’t it be dull if the true identity of that consort who lies at the root of these intriguing events remains unclear?” “After all our efforts to emerge as king in this world and witness such fascinating events, it’s truly regrettable that we cannot grasp how these matters began.” “Even these long-awaited intrigues would only bring half the enjoyment they should.” “Hey, Red Parrot.” “Is there no way to at least determine that consort’s true identity?” “Is there no way to determine whether it’s Mirumo or Benikō?”

“Yes. If I may state it plainly from the outset, such a thing is ultimately impossible; however, here I alone possess knowledge of a most wondrous magic.” “If Your Majesty would graciously permit the use of that magic, even matters occurring after Your Majesty has departed this world could be clearly understood.” “If that is done, then I believe Your Majesty will eventually come to discern whether your consort is Mirumo or Benikō.” “What? Even if we depart this world.” “Isn’t that an absurd proposition?” “If we were to depart this world, wouldn’t we have to return to the old forest, close our eyes, block our ears, cease breathing through our noses, firmly shut our mouths, and sit motionless by the bonfire?” “Wouldn’t we be unable to see or hear anything at all?”

“Not at all. That is indeed possible. Even as I am slain in this world, I can still observe and listen to its affairs in detail and report them to Your Majesty.”

“What.” “Then wouldn’t that mean both you and we are effectively still alive?”

“Yes. We are dead yet alive.”

“Hmm.” “That is strange magic.” “And what exactly does this magic perform?” “I shall now thoroughly consider and reveal all that is to come.” “If Your Lordships would deign to close your eyes and listen to this tale, it would be just as though you were present there yourselves, witnessing and hearing those events.”

Upon hearing this, the four clapped their hands in admiration— “I see. That is a clever method.” “You think from the immediate present all the way to the distant future and tell it all here.” “If we were listening to that, we could securely delight in even the most terrifying perils.” “Even if welcoming such a precarious consort were to lead to our lives being lost, since it’s fundamentally just a story, there would be no issue whatsoever.” “We will thoroughly understand even matters far beyond that.” “We will surely discern the consort’s true identity as well.” “Indeed, that’s truly an ingenious scheme.” “Then start telling us right now.” “Since all four of us will be listening together.”

“What on earth is about to begin now?”

“Is it a joyous thing?” “Is it a sorrowful thing?”

“Is it joyous? Is it terrifying?” “Hurry up and use that magic.”

“The anticipation is unbearable.” The four requested in unison.

However, the Red Parrot did not begin speaking for some time. It pricked its ears intently, eyes gleaming as though contemplating distant futures; then, having preened its feathers, finally began to speak in a quiet yet peculiar voice.

Part II: The Mirror in the Water’s Depths

Nine: The Lake's Secret

This Aimaru Country was divided into four nations: to the east lay Himiashi Country, to the west Yomiashi Country, to the north Kamiashi Country, and to the south Umiashi Country—each governed by a king bearing its respective name. But King Aimaru was sovereign over these four kings, and together these nations were honored as one unified Aimaru Country. Moreover, while Aimaru Country's north and west were encircled by endless sandy plains, and its south and east became seas stretching beyond the horizon, it was particularly in southern Umiashi Country that one found abundant lakes and rivers—a prosperous center of commerce. By the largest of these lakes, Lake Tarumi, there lived an old fisherman named Mitori. Having lost his wife and two children long ago, he now devoted himself to his work while finding greatest joy in watching his youngest and only remaining daughter Mirumo grow up. Mirumo was truly a beautiful girl, and moreover, she had gained renown throughout neighboring villages as her own village's finest diver. And so, while people everywhere speculated about who might become her husband, when Mirumo finally came of age, these rumors coalesced into one: Kachio—the second son of a fisherman named Ushio from the neighboring village, skilled in diving and especially famed as a flute master said to have been born clutching an iron flute in his hand—was settled upon as the most suitable groom.

This rumor soon became reality. A certain meddlesome man stepped in between the two parties, and when he brokered the match, both sets of parents and the two individuals themselves were delighted, consented, and it was promptly settled that the wedding would take place by the end of that autumn. The joy of both sets of parents and relatives, as well as Kachio and Mirumo, went without saying. The people of the villages too had all been eagerly awaiting the wedding day with bated breath, but just when only three weeks remained until that day, a grave royal proclamation—purported to be King Aimaru’s decree—reached the shores of this lake. The royal proclamation read as follows.

“His Majesty the King has captured a rare bird called the Red Parrot. Through this parrot’s account, it was discovered that a great treasure—a large silver mirror—lies submerged in the depths of Lake Tarumi. This mirror freely captures human forms, having emerged from the chest of the Stone God who existed at the world’s dawn. Now His Majesty declares he must have this mirror. Therefore, let any skilled diver dwelling by this lake retrieve the mirror from its depths. As the mirror rests in the lake’s deepest center, no ordinary person could claim it. Yet to those who succeed—men shall receive golden boats and women silver boats as royal reward. Will none here retrieve this mirror for their King?”

It was at the very front—when an official, having gathered a large crowd at the fish market located exactly halfway between the villages where Mirumo and Kachio lived, delivered this royal proclamation—

“It is I who shall retrieve it.” The one who had made the request was none other than Mirumo—known throughout the village as its finest diver when it came to underwater feats. Then together with her, Mirumo’s betrothed Kachio also requested to retrieve the mirror alongside her. Upon hearing this, the official rejoiced as though about to leap into the air; though he had proclaimed the decree all around the lake’s edge until now, he had yet to find even a single youth and maiden as brave as these two—praising them extravagantly—but in any case instructed them to prepare immediately and retrieve it by tomorrow, then returned to the capital. The villagers’ joy knew no bounds. After all, along this vast lake’s shores, no place besides these two villages would undertake such a great duty—and those who accepted were none other than the village’s most splendid youth and its fairest maiden. Thus everyone grew more invigorated than if retrieving it themselves, promptly setting about preparations. Among them all, Mirumo’s father swelled with particular pride—

“How’s that! Look at my daughter and son-in-law. They’re incredible! If those two go, they’ll find anyone sunk in the deepest sea right away. No matter what scary fish come, it’ll be fine. They both swim better than any fish. Ah, how wonderful! Look at my daughter and son-in-law. Amazing! Amazing!”

Mitori was ecstatically rejoicing. The villagers first boiled copious amounts of water to purify the two divers' bodies. They then loosened their hair and wrapped them together in fresh cloth. After feeding them newly prepared food, they quietly laid the pair to rest in brand-new futons. At dawn the next day, before sunrise, they completed all preparations: one boat carried the cloth-wrapped divers, another held long ropes, while every available village vessel was adorned with red and blue algae. As they raised sails into the morning landward wind with a collective whoosh, their prows aligned to a rising chorus of shouts, they sailed forth toward open waters.

As the wind had become a tailwind with no waves opposing them, the boats glided across the lake swift as arrows. Before long, the shore vanished from sight, and by noon they had already traveled seventeen or eighteen *ri*—reaching precisely the lake’s center. There, they all lowered their sails, tied the boats tightly together so that even the fiercest storm couldn’t overturn them, and surrounded the boats carrying the two divers and the one loaded with ropes at the center. At this moment, the two removed the cloths wrapped around their bodies and each tied a rope to themselves; then, from both sides of the boats, they plunged into the depths of the deep blue waves in unison, sending up tall sprays of water.

Within this scene, Mirumo appeared far more skilled at diving than Kachio, kicking through the water far ahead of him and sinking into the depths while sending up silver bubbles. Yet as she descended, the surroundings gradually darkened—the fish that had been swimming nearby vanished entirely, replaced by creatures never before seen: fish covered entirely in mouths, and others with tails growing from their eyeballs, now swimming about. In the end, it finally became pitch black; from afar, beings glowing like fireflies came into view, and as they gradually drew nearer and clearer, they revealed themselves to be fish of various shapes—some with human heads, others with bird legs or wolf tails. These creatures flickered on and off like blue lanterns all around, making the whole scene grow increasingly dreadful. Overwhelmed by fear, Mirumo seriously considered turning back, but she reconsidered—

“If I’m this timid, it’s no use.” Could it be that I came to verify whether the dream I had the other day was true or false? Did I not come here precisely because I implored the honorable officials—to see whether the mirror that emerged from the Stone God’s chest truly exists or not? If the mirror truly lies at the bottom of this lake, and if we find the treasure serpent as described in that Stone God’s song, then surely my recent dream was a true one—proving I am the reincarnation of Benikō Hime from the dream, destined to become queen.

And might I not then learn the continuation of that fascinating Stone God’s story? If I stopped and turned back now, it would all be for nothing. I would remain nothing but the same old fisherman’s daughter, unable to see or hear a single interesting or enjoyable thing. Even were I to die, I could not turn back. And if I were to become queen, such a thing as being eaten by fish here would never occur. If I could not become queen, it would be better to be eaten and perish outright. "This is a gamble on my fate—I shall simply go as far as I can and see."

Summoning her courage, she sank deeper still into the abyss. Then the surroundings shifted once more—every shadow vanished as the water turned cold as a corpse’s skin, still and lifeless—until the terror and eeriness became unbearable. She found herself thinking even those monstrous fish from earlier would have been preferable to this desolate void.

But within that darkness, she seemed to have passed through even that place, for something beautifully glowing came into view far below. Ah! How joyous—that must surely be where the mirror lay! As she continued parting the water and diving onward, soon the entire surroundings grew so radiantly beautiful it could awaken one’s eyes, brightening all around. When she looked, in the deep lakebed's clear emerald waters, algae with smooth luster, adorned with flowers of various colors, grew thickly together. Between them swam fish emitting dazzling light, creating golden and silver bubbles as they fluttered to and fro. Some came peering at Mirumo's face while curiously moving their eyeballs; others amiably rubbed their bodies against hers.

Within this scene, she arrived at a place that appeared to be the lakebed, where a multitude of gems lay spread across the expanse, emitting various pure lights.

After all, this was the first time in her life Mirumo had come to such a mysteriously beautiful place, and so overwhelmed with wonder was she that for a while she stood entranced as if in a dream—but then she remembered the mirror once more. What kind of beautifully wondrous treasure must this mirror be, hidden away in such a place? Thinking she wanted to find it quickly, she once more parted the long deep algae, scattered the fish, and advanced over the jewels. Before long, amidst an especially beautiful algae grove ahead, she glimpsed a human figure. Thinking Mr. Kachio might have already arrived, she hurriedly headed in that direction—whereupon it seemed the figure on the other side had noticed her, appearing to hurry toward her. As she gradually drew closer within that scene, what she had thought was Kachio turned out to be a mistake—there, walking quietly toward her alone, was a princess of breathtaking beauty identical in every detail to Benikō Hime from her dream. Mirumo, now astonished anew by that beauty, instinctively came to a halt—and the figure across, having spotted Mirumo’s form, made a surprised face and halted its steps. Mirumo thought: This must be Benikō Hime from my dream appearing before me—she must have come to inform me where the mirror lies. And so I realized I was still just Mirumo as always, neither a princess nor anything of the sort—and in my overwhelming shame I covered my face with my hands—whereupon the figure across did the same. When Mirumo grew increasingly embarrassed at being imitated and plopped down onto the jewels, the figure likewise plopped down. Wondering what was happening, she stood up and looked across—the other side had likewise risen and was gazing back at her. When she experimentally moved both hands, the other side moved theirs as well. When she stepped her foot, the other side stepped theirs.

When she thought "Ah!" and drew closer to look, this was unmistakably the Silver Mirror—what she had until now mistaken for Benikō Hime was in fact her own figure reflected upon its surface. Overwhelmed by shock, Mirumo lost all sense of self and tried to scream—but in that instant, cold water rushed into her mouth, jolting her back to awareness of lying at the lake's bottom. As her limbs trembled violently, she gazed transfixed at the wonder before her eyes, slipping into a trance. Until now Mirumo had been a lowly fisherman's daughter who had never once considered her own appearance. Moreover, in this land since ancient times, none had seen nor even heard of such a thing as a mirror—meaning this marked her first time beholding her own form. Thus her astonishment stood beyond reproach.

So this is my form? Was I indeed Princess Mirume? Was I truly this beautiful? Was I truly such a noble woman? To even call me a fisherman’s daughter feels unworthy of this. This beauty, nobility, and kindness—they suited a queen far better. Ah, what radiant beauty this is! And when I realized that I was indeed to become queen exactly as seen in the book from that dream, I could no longer tell whether I felt joy or terror, and my mind grew faint; sinking down upon the jewels, I desperately tried to compose myself.

Once she had finally calmed down, she approached the mirror once more and gazed intently at her own form—but the more she looked, the more beautiful she appeared, so much so that she could hardly be thought of as a human of this world. Despite possessing such beautiful features and such a noble appearance—if she had not seen that dream—would she have ended up making it her life’s work to live in his low, dark house, tread barefoot through that mud, and grasp his stinking fish? Even though my appearance was beautiful and my flute skills masterful—was my fate truly to become the wife of Kachio, a mere fisherman’s son clad in his dirty clothes, and live out a dreary existence? Ah, what a waste! Such a waste. This was an even greater waste than keeping these mirrors and gems sunk at the bottom of the sea. By some means—I want to marry a far nobler person suited to me and become queen exactly as depicted in his painting. I want to become His Majesty the Emperor of Aimaru Country’s Imperial Consort—make this appearance even more beautiful and noble—and flaunt it before all the people of the land. When I think of it—since I was the first woman in the world to see my own reflection in this mirror—perhaps it sank here to wait for me so that it might raise me to such a station. No—it must certainly be so. There can be no mistake. Yes—yes—in an instant Mirumo’s resolve transformed. Now carrying herself as though already queen, she untied the rope fastened at her waist and peered once more into the mirror—her faint smile radiating a beauty so dazzling it verged on terror. The radiance of the jewels that had been shining all around dimmed so profoundly it seemed the very light had been extinguished. At that moment—a small snake came slithering down from the mirror and burrowed into Mirumo’s hair. The snake was made entirely of gems—its eyes emitting topaz radiance and its ruby tongue flicking out repeatedly—when this serpent coiled like a crown upon Mirumo’s purple tresses and raised its head imperiously—her heart leapt with conviction: now she knew—the Stone God’s tale of the red parrot—mirror—and snake was no dream but truth itself—and moreover—she had discovered all three before anyone else. Convinced that this was undoubtedly an omen of my becoming queen—she stood up and danced around the mirror in rapturous abandon.

Ten: Living Skeleton

But on the other side was Kachio. It appeared Kachio was less skilled at diving than Mirumo, sinking considerably later than she did, but in the midst of this, Kachio too came upon a terrifying place akin to what Mirumo had previously passed through. However, this time, it was not only creatures of terrifying forms. Not only sharks and sawfish, but also shachi with blades covering their bodies and sea serpents with spiny scales swarmed in, churning up fierce vortices as they lunged at him. Kachio fought desperately, hurling them away with his fists and kicking them aside as he pressed deeper toward the bottom, both pursuing and being pursued—but by the time he finally escaped from that swarm of fish, his body had gone limp, his chest ached, his vision swam, and he teetered on death's brink. However, turning back would bring unbearable shame before the villagers, his parents, siblings, and Mirumo—moreover, it would mean defying the King's royal command. Thus he resolved that even if it killed him, he must press onward, and frantically moved his limbs forward. The suffering, the anguish. From that suffering, Kachio's body rapidly lost flesh before their eyes, his face wasting away like an old man's. And then, before he could finally reach the bottom, his consciousness began to fade. With hands and legs now immobile, he sank steadily deeper until at last he came to rest upon the jewels beside the mirror.

When Mirumo found this, had it been before, she would have been startled and rushed over to help him up immediately, but now that her feelings had completely changed, she did no such thing. When she caught one look at Kachio’s face, she was so repelled by his ghastly transformation that she became utterly convinced she could never become the wife of someone with such a demonic visage. If I were to be caught by Kachio here, I could neither escape nor become queen. She was momentarily troubled about what to do, but after calming herself and approaching to check, he appeared completely lifeless. Letting out a sigh of relief, she nodded as if to herself and gently lifted Kachio, propping him against the mirror.

Then, after finding the end of the rope she had earlier discarded, she coiled Kachio's body around the mirror with it and bound him tightly. She gave three strong tugs on the rope to signal those waiting above to haul it up, then parted the seaweed and slipped away along the lakebed. The three tugs Mirumo gave traveled clearly to Mitori, who waited on the boat holding both ends of the rope. At this signal, four or five selected strong young men rushed to the rope and began pulling with all their might—but what happened? The rope remained taut and didn't rise an inch. Seeing this wouldn't do, four or five more men latched onto the rope—but still it didn't move. This time they set up a pulley they had prepared beforehand on the boat, hooked the rope onto it, and when twenty or thirty men combined their strength to begin winding it up, the rope finally started rising two or three inches each time. Believing they had succeeded, Mitori and Ushio—wildly excited—led everyone in pulling rhythmically to chants of "Heave-ho! Heave-ho!", yet still the rope rose only two or three inches at a time. Strangely enough, neither Kachio—who should have completed his task of finding and securing the mirror—nor Mirumo showed even a shadow upon the waves. Meanwhile, the short autumn day had completely darkened.

The parents and relatives, who had until now been staring intently at the sea’s surface hoping Kachio might resurface or Mirumo might float up, finally found themselves with no choice but to resign themselves to the fact that both must surely be dead.

The grief of both parents was only natural, but the villagers’ sorrow and shock were beyond anything ordinary. No matter how skilled one might be at diving, there was no way anyone could stay alive underwater for so long. But perhaps they had surfaced between the ships? Or even if vicious fish had devoured them, at least their hair should have floated up. No—they weren’t floating up precisely because they were not dead. Or rather, even if they were dead, they probably wouldn’t float up.

The villagers began heatedly deliberating as if it were their own affair, saying it might be this way or that—but at that moment, Ushio and Mitori finally regained their composure and shouted in unison to everyone:

“Listen, everyone. We’ve made our peace with this. Those two must’ve been devoured by wicked fish while returning from securing the mirror below. Else they’d have surfaced long before now. Had we known, we’d have given them blades from the start. But lamenting won’t help now. Hauling up that precious mirror matters most.”

“This mirror stands in place of them both.” “It’s our greatest keepsake.” “The very treasure His Majesty seeks.” “Now then—hard though it’s been—heave everyone! Pull! Pull!”

Because they made this plea while brushing away tears, the villagers found encouragement. They rose their weary bodies and gathered together, wiping away their tears as they once more took hold of the rope. Then they pulled all through that night, but the rope still rose only two or three inches at a time. At last, through the entirety of the following day, through the next night without rest, and through the full day after that, great crowds of people took turns pulling the rope while wailing in despair. Finally, on the evening of the third day, as little rope remained, miraculously—though not a single cloud had been visible until then—the sky suddenly darkened as though ink had been spilled across it. In an instant, thunder began to roar, winds howled, rain poured down in sheets, and waves rose upon the sea like thousands upon thousands of white and black horses galloping forth, threatening to crush all the many lashed-together boats at once. Yet this time, the people did not lose heart. If they did not retrieve this mirror now, Kachio and Mirumo’s deaths would be in vain, and His Majesty the King’s wish would come to naught. They kept pulling in desperate frenzy past midnight, driven by the conviction that unless they retrieved this mirror even at the cost of their lives, they could never face the deceased Kachio and Mirumo—when amidst this struggle, the rain ceased and the winds died away, leaving only lightning flickering over the surging waves in the distance.

Before long, something large and pitch-black emerged upon the sea’s surface and collided against the ship’s side with a heavy thud. Seizing the moment, they all pressed their hands to haul it aboard—but just as they did so, another gust of wind burst forth, splitting the black clouds asunder. Pure white moonlight, polished to a shine, suddenly flashed downward. When that light revealed for the first time what they had pulled up from the depths, the villagers all cried out in unison and scrambled back.

Bathed in the spray of waves surging pitch-black and pure white, what lay collapsed on the boat was a silver mirror so terrifyingly bright it seemed blinding, its surface glaringly reflecting the moonlight. There at its center lay a living skeleton-like figure—flesh fallen from face and limbs, matted wet hair in disarray, eyes bulging and teeth bared—gasping for breath as it lay sprawled on its back. The villagers sat frozen where they had dropped, overwhelmed by the ghastly sight, rendered speechless and rigid—yet the monster maintained its labored breathing, lips whistling like a flute reed. With one hand it untied the ropes binding its body, stood up to survey its surroundings, then rasped in a withered voice—

“Has Mirumo returned?” he asked. At that moment, those white teeth glittered in the moonlight as if sneering at them all. Hearing this voice, Old Man Mitori and Ushio—who had until now been paralyzed with fear—found renewed strength and rose to their feet, having become convinced this creature must have killed Kachio and Mirumo— “You monster! Mirumo and Kachio won’t be coming back!” “You must’ve devoured them!”

they glared at him as if about to pounce.

Hearing this voice, the monster suddenly looked delighted——

“Oh! “You who say that are Father—I am Kachio. “And you say Mirumo still hasn’t returned?” His voice was already trembling. The two were startled to hear “Kachio,” but since they could never have imagined such a monster being Kachio, they shouted in unison— “Don’t spout nonsense! “Kachio is no monster like you!” “That’s not true! “I am Kachio. “I am Kachio!”

As he said this and tried to rush over to Ushio’s side in a fluster, just then—once again—the moonlight streaming through the clouds clearly reflected his own figure in the mirror. When he caught a fleeting glimpse of that figure, the monster was now startled by his own appearance—let out a shriek, rolled his eyes back, and tumbled headlong once more into the churning waves, great and small, that surged around him. And then only the silver mirror remained, shining vividly in the moonlight.

Eleven: The Gold and Silver Boat Kachio, having taken on a wretched form yet miraculously clung to life, once appeared before the people—but pitifully mistaken for a monster, he sank back into the lake’s churning waves. Mirumo had remained submerged in the lake from the very beginning, never showing herself. When it was finally concluded that both had died, the people tearfully rowed their boats back toward shore. What must have filled the hearts of those two parents as they rowed onward with their children’s memorial mirror aboard? What thoughts occupied the villagers from both sides as they loaded that mirror onto a cart and sent it off to the capital? Upon arriving at King Aimaru’s palace in the capital, when they were granted audience in its grand hall to recount how this mirror had been retrieved, there was not a single person among the many nobles who had come to behold this extraordinary mirror that did not weep. Thus did His Majesty bestow abundant rewards upon both villages’ people, granting Kachio and Mirumo’s parents each a golden ship and silver boat as promised before sending them home. Yet the parents lamented, saying how overjoyed their children would have been had they lived to see these golden and silver vessels.

King Aimaru, once this audience had concluded, immediately summoned Duke Beniki and issued two orders. The first was to hang this mirror on the wall of his own chamber and attach splendid decorations around it. The second was to issue a proclamation throughout the country: "Concerning His Majesty King Aimaru’s forthcoming welcoming of a royal consort, it was decided that the most beautiful and intelligent woman in all the land would be selected. Therefore, within one week from now, select and present to the palace the most beautiful and wise girl from each of the four countries of the east, west, south, and north. They were to inform others that 'on the morning of the seventh day, His Majesty King Aimaru himself would make the selection.'"

The first order was completed that very day by the capital's most renowned ornamental craftsmen and jewelers, who came to the palace accompanied by numerous apprentices. The second proclamation was then engraved onto copper plates and entrusted to four soldiers accomplished in horsemanship, who were promptly dispatched to the royal courts of the four kingdoms. King Aimaru, unable to endure waiting for the mirror's installation to finish, immediately entered his chamber alone and decisively bolted the entrance door from within. After sealing all four windows tight to plunge the room into utter darkness, the Red Parrot—which had been sitting perfectly still on a perch in the corner—suddenly emitted a crimson glow, flew across, and settled upon the King's head. When its ocular light then shone upon the submerged mirror's surface, that surface swiftly clouded with verdant hues until Benikō Hime's form materialized faintly within—revealing her now sequestered in her private quarters, elbow propped on her desk as she gazed absently out the window while lost in profound contemplation. At this moment, the Red Parrot raised a piercing cry—

“Your Majesty. “Your Majesty. “Behold.” Benikō’s figure. Benikō’s figure. Duke Beniki’s daughter. “Benikō’s figure.” When the King heard this, he smiled gently and——

“Hah. “So this is Benikō Hime.” “I see—this is a beautiful and clever-looking girl.” he said—but then Benikō Hime in the mirror turned toward him and stared fixedly at the King’s face, whereupon her room, desk, and even the robes she wore vanished, leaving only Benikō’s figure that had transformed entirely into Mirumo peering into the mirror amidst an underwater forest of seaweed. At that moment, the Red Parrot let out another loud cry—

“Your Majesty.” “Your Majesty.” “Behold.”

“Mirumo’s figure. Mirumo’s figure. Mitori’s daughter. Mirumo’s figure.”

Mirumo saw the King’s figure within the mirror and smiled gently, but the King also saw this and smiled gently—

“Oh. So this is Mirumo’s form?” “I see.” “She doesn’t differ from Benikō Hime in the slightest.” “And what manner of man was this Kachio who had been Mirumo’s betrothed?”

he leaned forward. Then before long, Mirumo’s figure vanished from the mirror’s surface, and this time an ugly, terrifying skeleton-like monster appeared. The scene showed precisely the boat that had retrieved the mirror—upon the raging waves, the moonlight shone with terrible intensity, illuminating the monster’s form.

“What’s this? “So this is Kachio who was betrothed to Mirumo? “What a horrifying sight! “If this wretch learns Mirumo has become my queen now, he’d surely resent me. “Ah yes—this delights me. “Red Parrot! Red Parrot! Find some way—I beg you—to keep him alive. “Make him defy me! Stir up great turmoil! “Killing such an extraordinary monster so pitilessly would leave no seeds for good tales. “A monster perfectly matched for his foe!”

he exclaimed. Then, the Red Parrot quietly answered—

“Understood.” “Even without Your Majesty’s command, Kachio’s fate shall assuredly come to pass in due course.”

Before these words had even finished, the scene within the mirror changed once more, and this time a wide thoroughfare began to appear. On both sides of the thoroughfare appeared to be some sort of vegetable market, where a great many people were busily selling, buying, and transporting fresh vegetables and fruits. By some twist of fate, the White-Haired Boy came wandering there. His face remained as before—burned and festered beyond recognition of eyes or nose. He wore filthy garments with bells and a moon lute bundled around his neck, carrying a flute without holes in his left hand and a book devoid of writing in his right hand. His peculiar appearance drew a crowd of children who followed behind him, pelting stones and mud like rain, yet the White-Haired Boy showed no sign of pain or distress. Standing vacantly with his usual cheerful smile, he made no move to flee. Then another man emerged—his limbs and face wrapped in tattered cloth—and perhaps pitying the White-Haired Boy’s plight, he scattered the children in all directions before approaching the boy as if to lead him away by hand. But in that instant, the cloth covering his face slipped off, revealing Kachio’s half-rotted visage. At this horrifying sight, everyone gathered there—adults and children alike—were struck with terror and fled in all directions.

As Kachio and the White-Haired Boy hurriedly left the area, no one came there for some time afterward. Then wondrously, one of the kelp baskets arranged before their eyes began to squirm and wriggle on its own until it tipped sideways, from which emerged Mirumo—who had vanished after diving into the sea—poking out only her head as she carefully surveyed her surroundings. Finding no one present, she spotted in the nearby alley a gray cloak, brown hood with black mask, fur gloves, and wooden clogs abandoned by the fleeing fruit vendor who had seen Kachio. She stole these items, quickly put them on, and transformed completely into an old woman. After looking around again to confirm no one was coming, she grabbed a nearby fruit basket, gathered various fruits into it, hid them under her cloak, and reached for the adjacent money box. At that moment, the mirror's surface suddenly darkened until nothing was visible. The Red Parrot—which had remained motionless atop the King's head until now—flapped down in alarm and hid beneath the desk.

12: The Three Decrees When King Aimaru saw this, he suddenly made an unpleasant face and rose from his chair—

“What’s this? What’s this? Is someone you hate approaching outside the door? There, there. You stay hidden there. I’ll chase them off.”

As he said this, he hurriedly threw open all the windows and came to the door—

“Who’s there? Who approaches?”

As he said this, he opened the door.

Outside stood the Blue-Eyed Old Man in a yellow robe, bowing respectfully. "What's this? You? And what business brings you here? Have you come again to steal the mirror from me, just like with that Red Parrot before? The mirror's acceptance ceremony was completed long ago, and it has been affixed to the parlor wall. Or do you have some other business? Speak quickly!"

he pressed insistently and inquired. The Blue-Eyed Old Man quietly raised his face and looked at the King, but suddenly began shedding tears in streams as he spoke— “Alas.

“Your Majesty.” “As Your Majesty has surmised, I have come regarding that mirror.” “I hear that Your Majesty—not deigning to heed my humble dissuasions—has had that silver mirror from the water’s depths brought forth and installed in your parlor.” “Ah, what dreadful presumption this reveals!” “Has Your Majesty already forgotten this country’s ancient decrees that I previously reported?” “‘One who steals people’s voices.’ ‘One who steals people’s forms.’ ‘One who steals people’s living blood.’ ‘These three are demons.’ ‘Destroy them on sight.’ ‘Kill them.’”

“The reason that until now, in this country, there has not existed a single bird called a Red Parrot that steals people’s voices, nor a single mirror that steals people’s forms, nor a single snake that steals people’s living blood—is because of this decree that people have...” “Enough! Silence!” the king harshly rebuked him. “I’ve long known such things without needing to hear them from you.” “I won’t be endlessly deceived by you as before!” “You tried to make a fool of me by calling non-demons demons.” “Thanks to this Red Parrot, I can hear every voice in the world without rising from my seat, and thanks to this mirror, I can see every event whenever I wish!” “Through these two treasures, I’ve become the wisest man alive!” “Yet you try to wrest these precious tools from me—to make me slumber in the palace and become the greatest fool in the world!” “You are this country’s foremost traitor!” “Consider carefully!” “Is it better for a king to be the world’s greatest fool who knows nothing?” “Or for the world’s wisest man—who lacks no knowledge—to reign?” “Which is preferable?”

“Yes. For a wise person to be king would bring this country happiness, Your Majesty.” “There, you see? And why did you try to make me into an ignorant fool who knows nothing? Why do you seek to keep the Red Parrot and Silver Mirror from entering the royal palace?”

“Alas, Your Majesty. That would be impossible,” said the Blue-Eyed Old Man quietly raising his tear-streaked face. “Your Majesty has been a wise and revered sovereign since ancient times without needing such mirrors or parrots. Moreover, since those artifacts arrived, they’ve been clouding Your Majesty’s vision and deafening Your Majesty’s ears—” “Silence!” roared the King, his voice cracking like a whip. “Silence! These two have never once deceived me! How dare you call them demons, you insolent cur! What proof do you have? Show me this evidence!”

“The evidence has been passed down since ancient times—these Three Decrees themselves are the greatest proof…” “Ha ha ha!”

And suddenly, the king burst into loud laughter. Then, with a spiteful glare fixed on the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s face, he inquired— “Who established that decree?” “Yes, Your Majesty. It is that an ancestor of mine, also called Blue-Eyed, left behind these words.”

“Hmm, I see.” “And why did that ancestor establish these three things as demons?” “Is there some profound reason for establishing these three things as demons?” “Without reason, would they arbitrarily designate such valuable things as demons?” “State the reasoning behind that!”

When Blue-Eyed Old Man heard King Aimaru’s words, he abruptly turned deathly pale until even his lips lost all color within moments. As this happened, his limbs began trembling violently until he could no longer respond at all—only staring fixedly at the king’s face with those blue eyes grown perfectly round. Seeing this reaction, the king grew more vehement still, taking one step closer to Blue-Eyed Old Man while hardening his expression into greater severity before glaring down to declare—

“Look here, Blue-Eyed. “Why aren’t you answering? “Why can’t you state that evidence? “Now, state that evidence! “State that reasoning! “Why are those three beings demons? “Why are this Silver Mirror and Red Parrot fragments of demons? “You’ve never hidden a single thing from me until now, have you? “State it! “State it! “State the reason why those three decrees were established!”

And the king pressed closer with razor-sharp words. However, the more fiercely the king pressed his attack, the more the Blue-Eyed Old Man shrank back, his trembling growing ever more violent until finally, unable to remain standing, he collapsed into a sitting position on the floor. The king had been silently observing this state of affairs but continued his rebuke in a solemn tone— “Blue-Eyed.” “Look here, Blue-Eyed.” “Why are you so terrified?” “Why are you trembling like that?” “Why do you hide that reasoning from me?” “Frankly, I can’t make any sense of your doings at all!” “Asking if I’d seen some unseen dream as before, trying to steal such precious things from me and slaughter an innocent parrot, or attempting to smash this invaluable mirror that countless people risked their lives to retrieve.” “For me, there exists no treasure as precious, invaluable, and treasured as this!” “Why do you detest it so?” “And yet whenever I demand you state that reasoning, you turn deathly pale and tremble uncontrollably.” “For what possible reason do you say and do such bizarre things?” “This makes absolutely no sense at all!” “Why are you hiding it like that?” “Why are you so terrified?” “Now, speak out!” “Answer me!” “Confess everything!”

The king stared even more sharply at the Blue-Eyed Old Man while saying this. However, the Blue-Eyed Old Man still did not reply, his eyes remaining wide open. The king, who had been staring fixedly at his face, eventually smiled faintly and declared—

“Ah, I’ve got it,” declared the king, his voice sharp as a blade. “I’ve uncovered why you conceal it—why you tremble so. Of course you’d hide this! Of course you cannot speak!” His eyes blazed with conviction. “Those decrees are naught but lies! From your ancestors down to your wretched self—generations spinning baseless falsehoods to keep these treasures from me! All to hoard wisdom for yourselves and crown your line the world’s cleverest!” “No,” the old man rasped, pallid lips quivering, “that is most certainly untrue.” He pressed trembling hands against the floorboards. “Demons remain demons, Your Majesty! I implore you—hear what I—”

The Blue-Eyed Old Man blurted out in haste.

“Silence! Blue-Eyed. You’re absolutely determined to deceive me. You’re the demon here! No—you’re a demon! You’re undoubtedly a demon. Your house has passed down lies through generations, become my guardians, fabricated false decrees, kept such treasures at bay, and sought to turn me into a fool who knows nothing! I will no longer listen to anything you say. I’ve had this parrot tell me everything in the world. And through this mirror, I’ve had everything in the world shown to me. Thanks to them, I’ve become exceedingly clever. There is no greater joy than this! There is no greater blessing than this! You who have been trying and trying to keep me from knowing anything all this time—you’re a great traitor! You men, seize this wretch and drag him out of the Royal Palace! You shall not be permitted to come to the Royal Palace until I grant my forgiveness!”

With that, he slammed the door shut with a thud.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man suddenly sat bolt upright, clung to the door that had just closed, and burst into manly sobs.

This was the first time the Blue-Eyed Old Man had seen King Aimaru in such a violent, madness-tinged state. Moreover, this was also the first time he had been mocked and reviled with such merciless words. Overwhelmed by it all, he clung to the door, unable to even wipe his flowing tears—

“Your Majesty.” “Your Majesty.” “Your Majesty, have you gone mad?” “How could Your Majesty—so kind and noble until recently—have changed to harbor such a wretched and base heart?” “This must be because those two demons—the Silver Mirror and Red Parrot—have addled Your Majesty’s noble mind.” “I implore you, Your Majesty.” “Quiet Your Majesty’s noble heart and grant me audience…”

He panted and pleaded desperately, but it was all in vain. No response came from beyond the door; instead, he was dragged away by the corridor guards and expelled from the Royal Palace’s gate.

However, no sooner had the Blue-Eyed Old Man been dragged away than the Red Parrot cried out again—

“Oh dear, Your Majesty, it appears Lord Beniya comes seeking audience now.” “He has just mounted his steed at home and makes his way toward this palace.” Beniya comes now for no other reason than this: Long ago he had received an ironclad decree from the former King Aimaru to present his eldest sister Princess Noukou as queen. Though he had not yet disclosed this to his household, both siblings had cherished this prospect. Yet Beniya had been away in northern Kamiasu Country on his father’s affairs until this day. Upon returning and hearing of Your Majesty’s Royal Proclamation this morning—that queens would be chosen from foreign lands—his sister-loving heart suffered such shock as if dreaming. He hastened here at once to verify the proclamation’s truth. Now Beniya bids the corridor guards announce him. “Hearken well, Your Majesty.”

Before the words could even be finished, soldiers' voices rang out from beyond the door— "Lord Beniya has arrived."

their voices rang out clearly. The king immediately replied—

“No one shall yet be permitted to enter this chamber. If you have business, come later.” Beniya, who had been listening to these words outside the door, felt as though he were dreaming within a dream. This was the first time Beniya had received such violent, careless words from the king—just as Mr. Blue-Eye had. Even without this, Beniya—whose chest had already swelled with thoughts of Princess Noukou—instinctively clung to the door and cried out:

“Your Majesty. “Your Majesty. What has come over Your Majesty? Why do you say such a heartless thing? This is Beniya. This is Beniya. I humbly beg you to grant me an audience just once. It concerns my sister Noukou—there is something I must convey to Your Majesty.” “What of Noukou?” “Wh—what?! Your Majesty, have you already forgotten? Have you forgotten your own pledge?”

“I haven’t forgotten. “But I’ve grown to despise keeping promises. “Yesterday’s king and today’s king are different men. “No need to honor such pledges. “If you want that Princess Noukou as queen, present her at court in one week with women from every province—exactly as my proclamation demands. “Should she please me, I might make her queen. “Go tell your sister to prepare. “Make no mistakes—I won’t tolerate them. “Nothing more remains. “Leave.”

These were utterly lawless words. Until this day, Beniya had believed the king to be a compassionate and noble sovereign—more beloved than his parents, dearer than his sisters, a peerless figure in heaven and earth. Yet now he understood that this same king had become more merciless than demons, baser than beasts in heart, his very voice grown rough as a tiger’s growl. To make matters worse, regarding Princess Noukou—whom Beniya had cherished above all else—the king himself had made the promise and now himself broke it, commanding that she be presented alongside vulgar women from every province one week hence for royal inspection. Overwhelmed by grief and indignation at this wretched decree, Beniya lost all sense of propriety. Unable even to weep, he clawed at his hair like a madman and bolted headlong from the Royal Palace.

Thirteen: The Fleet-Hoofed Horse’s Hoofbeats

When Beniya fled the Royal Palace，the king immediately turned back to the mirror and commanded it to show him Mirumo’s state after she had transformed into an old woman. But before anything could appear in the mirror，the king suddenly caught a dreadful sound and cried out— “What?” “What was that noise?” “Thunder?” “Hail?” “No，no!” “A horse’s hooves!” What thunderous hoofbeats! What a swift steed! “Good heavens—it’s already circled once around the palace along the streets!” “Why would its rider gallop around this palace at such an hour?” “Does such a horse even exist?” “Could that rider be some unknown demon?” “There—twice now!” “This makes three times.” “Here—Silver Mirror!” “Red Parrot!” “No need to track Mirumo anymore.” “Show me that horse and rider instead—quickly!”

"Good heavens," he thought aloud. "It’s already circled thrice." "So swift!" "So swift!" "Declare yourself!" "Declare yourself!"

he asked with bated breath. Before these words had even finished, a light like lightning flashed from the Red Parrot’s eyes, and the mirror’s surface abruptly clouded over in green. And no sooner had it cleared than the figure of a horseback-riding boy appeared. That was Beniya, who had earlier left the Royal Palace. When Beniya realized that King Aimaru—whom he had respected more than his parents and cherished more than his siblings—had transformed into a heart crueler than demons and a voice rougher than tigers, and now cared not a whit for his sister’s plight, he was so shocked and grief-stricken that he fled the Royal Palace like a madman. No sooner had he escaped than he leapt onto Shun, the nation’s foremost steed tethered there, and no sooner had he taken the reins than he kicked its flank so fiercely with his spurs that they nearly tore through the horse’s flesh. Shun, who had never once even seen the shadow of a whip before, was so startled by his master’s unexpected rough handling that he too became frantic. Letting out a shrill neigh as he reared up on his hind legs, he then leapt forward in a single bound and broke into a gallop.

However, Beniya did not notice how startled Shun was or how swiftly the horse was galloping. He could still hear the king’s rough words and voice as though they lingered in his ears, and when he imagined returning home to tell Princess Noukou of this matter, her face appeared so vividly before his eyes that his chest felt as though it were being torn apart. And thinking that it would be best if he and this horse plunged off a high cliff to their deaths right then and there, he released both hands from the reins, clawed at his hair, gazed up at the starry sky aglow with crystalline light, kicked and kicked at the horse’s flanks, and drove it recklessly through the deserted streets of the capital.

At this, the horse grew even more panicked. Foaming at the mouth with its mane standing on end, it reared its hooves skyward and circled the Royal Palace six or seven times in rapid succession. Upon emerging onto the broad street before the royal castle on its seventh circuit, it raced headlong down the highway leading south to Umiashi Country.

The more the horse ran, the more Beniya’s mood seemed to grow refreshed, so he kept letting it run unchecked—until amidst this motion, the night had fully broken, and something white and glowing came into view far ahead. This was a lake, and since it appeared exceedingly large, Beniya reined in his horse for the first time and addressed a passing old woman— “Granny. What is the name of that lake?”

he asked. The old woman had completely hidden her face beneath a headscarf and mask. Leaning on a short cane with one hand and carrying a heavy fruit basket with the other, she shuffled unsteadily as though utterly exhausted. But when Beniya now posed his question to her, she stopped walking and—with some effort—straightened her bent back――

“Yes,” she replied. “That is Lake Tarumi.” Beniya was surprised to find himself unexpectedly far away and—

“What.” “Is that Lake Tarumi?” “This is surprising.” “Then the southern country’s capital can’t be far now.” “Well then, shall we start heading back?”

He pulled the horse’s head around but then suddenly noticed how utterly exhausted this old woman was— “Granny, where are you going?” he asked. The old woman had been intently observing Beniya from beneath her mask but now let out an utterly exhausted sigh and replied that she lived near Lake Tarumi, and having heard His Majesty would soon welcome a queen, she was bringing fruits from her garden tree in a basket as a congratulatory offering. Upon hearing this, Beniya was reminded of Princess Noukou. Ah, he thought, if only it were his sister receiving this—how overjoyed she would be—and his chest swelled with emotion. However, now being greatly impressed by this old woman’s sense of duty and feeling increasingly sorry for her exhaustion, he suggested—since he himself had come all the way here from the capital for a stroll and was about to return anyway—that it would be perfect to let her ride together on his horse to an inn. The old woman repeatedly declined. However, in the end unable to refuse Beniya’s kind offer, she was seated on the front of the saddle and taken toward the capital.

Worried that the old woman might grow dizzy, Beniya deliberately kept the horse at a gentle walk. Yet she proved remarkably adept at conversation, and noticing his pallor, inquired kindly about his troubles. Before he knew it, Beniya found himself drawn into recounting everything—his anxieties over Princess Noukou, how the King’s temperament had turned fearsomely harsh, his own shock and confusion driving him to flee the Royal Palace in a frenzy, racing recklessly through the capital’s streets all night to reach this place. He even explained how this horse, renowned as the kingdom’s finest steed for galloping vast distances in an instant, bore the name “Shun.” The old woman expressed admiration with each answer, lavishing praise on Beniya for never once contradicting His Majesty’s words, but she then proceeded to pry into every detail about Beniya’s household and the inner workings of the Royal Palace. This left Beniya feeling increasingly uneasy, until finally he could only offer the briefest of replies. But the old woman would not let up.

Before long, with great gravitas, she cleared her throat once—

“Lord Beniya.” “You have told me everything most thoroughly.” “Thanks to Your Lordship’s words, I now understand well both your household’s circumstances and those within the royal palace.” “Yet along with this knowledge comes awareness of a most dreadful calamity that has fallen upon your person and household—a matter that leaves me quite at a loss regarding what ought to be done.” “What!” “A calamity has fallen?” Beniya found himself unwittingly drawn into asking. “Granny—can this be true?”

“Yes.” “What could I possibly conceal?” “I am a renowned female diviner in the southern lands, and though I have reached exactly eight hundred and eighty years this year, I have yet to tell a single lie.” “The fruits I now carry here are mysterious fruits meant for divination, and I go to present them so that when His Majesty soon welcomes his queen, he may choose the wisest and most beautiful princess in this world.” “What wondrous effects these fruits may produce—I shall soon be able to show you.” “If that comes to pass, you will surely come to think that what this old woman has told you is no lie.”

she said.

Even Beniya, for all his usual composure, found himself completely drawn into this old woman’s calm manner of speaking—— “What? Is that true? Is such a terrible calamity about to befall my household? How do you know that, Granny? Tell me,” he pressed urgently.

Fourteen: Fruit Divination

Then the old woman peered back at Beniya’s face from beneath her black mask as he leaned in behind her and said— “There’s no need for such alarm—all will be well.” “A calamity foreknown is a calamity any soul might evade.” “Yet to discern what form your household’s misfortune shall take, I must delve deeper into its affairs.” “Will you answer my queries without concealment?”

“Ah, anything at all.” “Absolutely.”

“Then allow me to ask—your youngest sister is called Benikō Hime, is she not?” “Yes.” “Does Benikō Hime bear a strong resemblance to you in facial features?” “Ah… she resembles me so closely that if you exchanged garments, you could hardly tell for a moment.” “Concerning Benikō Hime, have there been any strange occurrences of late?”

“Ah, you know well, Granny. Truly, there are things about that sister of mine I don’t understand. You see, Benikō Hime loved stories more than anything since childhood—had been reading storybooks every single day up until now—but lately she suddenly came to hate them. She shut herself up alone in her room, constantly pondering something while muttering ‘I don’t understand’ over and over. So we all grew worried and tried asking why, but she absolutely refuses to explain—just keeps saying ‘I don’t understand’ from dawn till dusk. But since she doesn’t seem ill otherwise, we’re letting her be for now.”

“Oh, is that so? Now I finally understand. Then that Benikō Hime—is she not a lady with large black eyes, long eyebrows, and purple hair so long it drags upon the ground?”

Beniya answered suspiciously while wondering how this old woman knew so much about his sister. "Yes." "And there isn't a single discrepancy."

“Hmm, that must be so.” “Then, by any chance, did that Benikō Hime happen to see a strange dream the other morning?” Upon hearing these words, Beniya was so astonished by their uncanny accuracy that he found himself unable to speak, managing only a faint nod. But the old woman pressed on unperturbed—— “Hmm.” “Hmm.” “Hmm.” “At last, my divination is true.” “Then I have one more question to ask.” “On the morning when Benikō Hime beheld that dream, when she awoke in astonishment, was there not a single red bird at the window?”

Beniya was so overwhelmed by the sheer wonder of it all that he could only let out a deep sigh. “Hehehe… “It has indeed come to pass, has it not? “I am this land’s foremost elder and its greatest diviner. “There can be no error in my sight. “When first I spied you approaching on horseback from afar and beheld your countenance, all became clear—that you are of noble blood with parents and sisters; that your youngest sister had lately awakened from a decade-spanning dream where she styled herself Princess Mirume in another realm, a vision so wild men called it madness; that upon waking she found a red bird at her chamber window; and that through this long dreaming she forgot all her yesterdays, now mistaking her waking life for yet another dream.”

“Beniya-sama.” “Please take heed.” “It is precisely your esteemed younger sister Benikō Hime who is the seed of calamity for your household.” “In the dream Benikō Hime recently beheld, she has become a demon—employing a bird called the Red Parrot as her servant—to bring terrible calamity upon your household, slaughter your parents, you yourself, Princess Noukou, and all your house’s people, survive alone by herself, then become this country’s queen and act entirely as she pleases.”

“Then can Noukou Hime not become queen?”

Beniya asked in a trembling voice. “Yes, she cannot.” “She cannot.” “The esteemed younger sister Benikō Hime will interfere.” “No—it is not Benikō Hime.” “It is Benikō Hime possessed by a demon—that is, Princess Mirume from the dream—who will deign to interfere.”

“That’s a lie.” “Benikō Hime is not such a wicked woman.” “Nor is she one to be possessed by demons.” “I cannot accept Granny’s words as truth.” “All your other divinations came true, but this one shall never come to pass.”

With his face flushed crimson and body trembling, Beniya declared. But Granny would not yield— “If the previous divinations have come true, this one cannot possibly fail.” “If you think it a lie, shall I show you the proof?” Even after hearing this, Beniya couldn’t believe his sister Benikō would do such a thing. This crone who spoke of his beloved sister as a demon became utterly loathsome to him—so enraged he couldn’t stand having her ride with him another moment. Yet he reconsidered: surely Granny meant no harm. She must have erred in her divination, grown anxious over its potential truth, and sought to warn him. Thus resolved, he would first see this evidence before correcting her mistake—

“Well then, Granny, show me that evidence.”

he requested. "The evidence is this—these fruits."

As she said this, the old woman showed the fruit basket she held in her hand. "What? Those fruits as evidence...?" When Beniya peered inside in surprise, there lay seven splendid apples within. "I have conducted this divination using these." "Behold, there are seven." "It is exactly the number of demons." "If you double this number, it becomes Benikō Hime's age." "In other words, Benikō Hime has been possessed by a demon and split into two bodies—and one half of her is now targeting your very life."

“That’s ridiculous! Such a thing could never happen! It’s hundreds of miles from the capital to here—!”

And then Beniya, finding it all utterly absurd, burst into laughter— "So you're saying these fruits are Benikō Hime?"

“No.” “That is not the case.” “However, it is indeed true that the demonic Benikō Hime resides right beside these fruits.”

“What—right beside me?” Beniya instinctively looked around—they were on a bridge in an ordinary forest, a desolate place where not a soul passed through—but no sooner had he thought this than the old woman suddenly let slip the basket of fruits she had been cradling so carefully, dropping it from horseback—

“Oh! This is terrible!”

While crying out, she too tumbled down from the horse and frantically tried to gather the fruits, but unfortunately they rolled out across the bridge planks in all directions—most falling into the river below. Then the old woman suddenly raised her voice in a wail—

“Oh no!” “All the precious fruits have fallen into the river.” “All the divination fruits meant for Your Majesty have been washed away.” “Oh, what a waste that is!” “What a waste.” “Oh! Please retrieve them!” “Please get them!” “If no one will retrieve them, then I will go.”

and she ran straight to the railing, looking as though she would leap in at any moment. When Beniya saw this—no sooner had he been startled than—he shouted “Granny, it’s dangerous!” while leaping down from his horse, caught hold of the old woman, stripped himself naked in her place, and hurled himself from the bridge railing into the river. At this sight, the old woman who had been clinging to the bridge railing and weeping suddenly stopped crying and stood upright. Tearing off her hood, coat, and gloves in one swift motion, she revealed herself to be Mirumo in disguise. Gazing at the fruits now swiftly flowing downstream and Beniya chasing after them, she let out a creepy cackle. And then, in a loud voice,

“Brother… do take a good look at the demon Benikō.” No sooner had she spoken than she stole everything from Beniya’s discarded hat down to his boots and donned them in one swift motion. Lightly leaping onto Shun’s back, she kicked the steed’s flank hard and went galloping toward the capital in a single bound.

Fifteen: White Cotton

Demon Mirumo soon flew hundreds of miles like an arrow and, true to the steed’s name, arrived in the capital in the blink of an eye. Then Mirumo first went to a fabric store, purchased bleached cotton, and entered a certain secluded side alley with few passersby. After smearing mud all over her jacket and trousers, then completely bandaging her face with only eyes exposed to make it impossible to tell if she was male or female, she next entered the capital’s foremost tailor shop and, using Beniya’s voice and manner of speech, declared: “I am Beniya, the Prime Minister’s son. I fell from my horse earlier, injured my face, and ruined my precious garments. However, since I must go to the royal palace again tomorrow, have another set of identical clothes and one overcoat tailored by noon today. But make the materials and decorations as gaudy and high-quality as possible, and attach these to the buttons,” she said while taking out twelve or thirteen large diamonds from her hair and handing them over.

Fortunately, the owner of this tailor shop was someone who frequented Beniya’s household and knew his measurements well. Having agreed that he fully understood the details upon accepting the diamonds, Mirumo pressed further by ordering that the entire household must work together to complete everything without fail by the deadline, then sped off on her horse again. Then she went to the hatter’s and ordered a fine hat, again with a promise to have it ready by noon, and saying it was for decoration, handed over another large diamond there as well. Then she went to the sword shop for a sword, the shoe shop for boots, and the glove shop for gloves, instructing all of them to prepare the finest items by noon. This time, she spurred her horse toward the western part of the royal castle. Just when one might wonder where she was headed, Mirumo soon located Beniya’s house and boldly charged through the front gate. Upon dismounting, she immediately rushed to the entranceway, collapsed upon the stone steps, and called out to the household in a sorrowful voice.

The household had heard rumors that Beniya, upon returning from his journey yesterday, had immediately gone to the royal palace, then rushed out again, ridden Shun around the palace perimeter seven times, and vanished without a trace by last night. They were utterly clueless about the reason and wondered if he might have received some urgent order from the king. Or else, they were anxiously worrying that he might have gone for a walk on his way back and suffered some grave injury, but no sooner had they heard this voice than they all rushed to the entrance at once, hearts pounding with the thought that it must be the bandit—only to find, how now?

It appeared Beniya had suffered a grave injury, his face completely bandaged as he lay collapsed with labored breathing. The shock felt by his parents and others who saw this state was beyond measure. They immediately carried Beniya to his bed with many hands, but ill-timed circumstances left them no choice—the household’s retained physician had departed two or three days prior to gather medicinal herbs and stones in a remote mountain area, with no expectation of returning for a month or two, let alone being present now. With no alternative, they sent a messenger to summon the palace’s retained Blue-Eyed Doctor in great haste, urgently requesting his attendance. At that very moment, the Blue-Eyed Doctor had been confined to his home after receiving a reprimand from King Aimaru, but upon hearing of Beniya’s injury, he immediately consented and set out with his medicines gathered.

Before the Blue-Eyed Doctor arrived, Mirumo—disguised as Beniya—keenly surveyed the household's state. Sure enough, the people within this house were precisely like those she had seen in her dream—the members of Duke Mirurō's household—their voices not differing in the least. Mirumo, despite herself, stood newly astonished at the marvel before her eyes, but she steadied herself and reasoned that Benikō, this household's youngest daughter, must indeed have shared her dream and now doubted her own existence. And so, as Princess Noukou—destined to appear alongside her before the king—persisted in keeping vigilant watch to verify their faces once more, the two sisters at that moment, while fretting over their brother's injury, peered out with tear-streaked faces from between their parents' figures, intently observing the scene. But when Mirumo discerned their faces and fixed her gaze from within the bandages, they—overpowered by grief and dread—pressed hands to their faces and quit the chamber.

Having seen them off, Mirumo let out a deep sigh of relief. Benikō Hime’s figure was so beautiful and noble. This was because Benikō Hime’s form not only showed not a hair’s breadth of difference from her own reflection seen in the lake’s mirror but appeared far purer and more divine. As for her elder sister Princess Noukou—indeed, she was truly gentle and kind as Beniya had boasted—but Mirumo thought her beauty could not compare at all to that of her younger sister Benikō or to Mirumo’s own beauty. Thus she felt relieved that even were they to appear together before King Aimaru for their audience, she would certainly not be outshone.

However, in any case, the people of this house were those who had become Princess Mirume’s parents and siblings in that recent dream. Moreover, their youngest daughter Benikō Hime had not only seen a dream of becoming Princess Mirume just like herself but miraculously possessed an appearance no different from her own. Thus, she thought that perhaps Benikō Hime was the true reincarnation of Princess Mirume, and her own claim of becoming queen might be a lie. If Benikō Hime were to take that dream as truth and attempt to become queen, that would spell disaster. All the dreams I’ve worked so hard to realize would become lies, so I could not afford even a moment’s carelessness. No matter what, I must eliminate this Benikō Hime. If possible, I must silence everyone who knows about that dream—otherwise, I cannot rest easy for even a moment. If I did not do this, I could not monopolize for myself the happiness that had come through that dream—and so I steeled myself with dreadful resolve.

But neither Duke Beniki nor the Duchess had ever dreamed that such a wicked woman lay before them now, disguised as Beniya. They were so shocked and frantic at their child’s completely unexpected grave injury that they nearly went mad, and in unison they asked how such a thing had come to pass.

Mirumo, disguised as Beniya and having eagerly awaited these words, used Beniya’s voice from beneath labored breathing. “I beg you to send everyone away,” she said. “Please stay, both of Your Excellencies. For it concerns matters that must not be overheard by others.” When she came face-to-face with her parents, Mirumo sat up on the bed in a pitiful manner, supporting herself with both hands as tears streamed down from between her bandages.

The parents grew increasingly shocked and flustered, rushing in from both sides, “What’s wrong with you? Beniya!” “Crying without explaining won’t make us understand what’s wrong!” “Why are you shedding tears?” “Here.” “Beniya.” “Hurry up and tell us.” “We’re worried sick.” “Come now, Beniya.” they demanded. Seeing this situation, Mirumo first realized—and felt relieved—that her parents still believed her to be Beniya. And in an even more weakened voice— “In truth, there is something I have strictly kept hidden from Your Excellencies until this very day.” “But now that matters have reached this state, I can no longer keep it concealed. Therefore, I shall tell you everything.”

“I said,” she began with how Princess Noukou had long cherished His Majesty, how His Majesty himself had deigned to promise to take her as his consort only to break that vow, how he had now commanded her to appear alongside another woman for an audience in a week’s time, how I—overcome with anguish—had ridden Shun in a frenzy and raced out, how I had gone all the way to Lake Tarumi that night and, upon returning, fallen from my horse when it stumbled on a bridge and injured myself—weaving truths and falsehoods with tales I had heard from Beniya, I recounted everything in detail.”

With each revelation, the parents found themselves astonished anew. Though they fully grasped the situation now, they refused to consent easily—for among these matters, presenting Princess Noukou alongside another woman at the royal audience struck them as too pitiful and disgraceful. While all might be well if she conveniently became His Majesty’s consort, they argued, there could be no greater humiliation than if His Majesty were to take a dislike to her through some mischance. However, Mirumo—disguised as Beniya—believing this moment crucial, desperately extolled Princess Noukou’s beauty, insisting that no woman who might come could surpass his sister’s loveliness. “Moreover,” she continued, “since His Majesty King Aimaru has now forgotten Princess Noukou’s beauty, he must have ordered such a reckless thing. But when he sees her again this time, he will surely favor her as he did of old. And should Princess Noukou refrain from attending while some baseborn woman becomes consort instead—that itself would constitute grave disrespect toward His Majesty. Therefore,” she implored between labored breaths, “Princess Noukou’s attendance at this audience would prove most convenient and vital in every regard.”

When the parents heard this, they found it indeed reasonable; partly due to Princess Noukou’s loveliness and their parental bias, they finally settled on the matter and went together to Princess Noukou’s chamber to discuss. Immediately after, the Blue-Eyed Doctor arrived in great haste, guided by a maid. The Blue-Eyed Doctor had never been anywhere other than the royal palace until now, and as this was his first visit to this household—where aside from Duke Beniki and Beniya, who came to the palace, all others were people he had never met before—he politely greeted each person in turn. However, only Benikō Hime remained hidden in her own chamber and did not come out even when her elder sister Princess Noukou called for her.

No sooner had Benikō Hime heard the voice announcing the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s arrival than she wondered—could this be that terrifying old man from her dream? If so, she would become utterly unable to distinguish where her current circumstances began as dream and where they became reality. The uncanny terror grew ever more intense. She thought she must see whether this Blue-Eyed Doctor was indeed that old man. But fearing disaster should they meet face-to-face and he mistake her for a demon again, she quietly created a gap in the door and peered through it with only her eyes to observe the situation.

When Benikō Hime caught a single glimpse of the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s face passing by, she nearly let out an involuntary gasp. His blue hair hanging down to his shoulders, his blue and sharp eyes, blue beard, dark complexion, and that yellow robe—all were exactly like the old man from that dream, with even his gait showing no difference. Benikō Hime felt as though the blood in her entire body had frozen from overwhelming terror. And then, in a panic, she closed the door, locked it securely from the inside, let out a sigh of relief—only to grow faint and collapse onto the floor. But as the entire household was now in an uproar, with everyone rushing about, no one noticed.

However, when Mirumo—disguised as Beniya—saw the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s face, she too trembled uncontrollably from shock. Now fully convinced the dream had been real, she feared his piercing gaze might see through her bandages and recognize her as the woman who had cut open the ginkgo-leaf-stuffed bag in that vision. Yet upon reflection—if he had glimpsed Benikō Hime even once, wouldn’t he have suspected her first? His calm arrival suggested this was his first visit here, perhaps he’d never seen Benikō’s face at all. Or had he never experienced the dream to begin with? No—impossible. Just as Benikō had dreamed it, so too must the Blue-Eyed Doctor and that white-haired beggar boy have witnessed it. Otherwise nothing made sense. Whether they’d truly seen each other would reveal itself once she forced their meeting. For now, she reassured herself—he hadn’t met Benikō yet, nor detected her Beniya disguise—and steadied her nerves with a relieved breath.

However, the Blue-Eyed Doctor remained entirely unaware of these matters. He slowly approached Mirumo disguised as Beniya and offered a respectful greeting before checking her pulse. Finding nothing abnormal, he felt reassured there was no mortal danger. But when he next attempted to remove the bandages from her face, the impostor Beniya shrieked "It hurts! It hurts!" in a piercing voice, refusing to let him touch them. The doctor reluctantly retrieved medicinal oil from his medicine basket and saturated the bandages, reasoning they would loosen painlessly if left undisturbed. "This medicine," he continued, "can induce a week-long sleep if but a drop is taken." "The pain should subside by then. If it remains severe afterward, administer this," he instructed, placing a small bottle at the patient's bedside before departing.

For a while after the Blue-Eyed Doctor left, Mirumo pretended her pain had subsided and slept soundly. However, when noon approached and the maid who had stayed behind to tend to her briefly stepped away, Mirumo suddenly bolted upright, snatched the bottle of sleeping medicine from her bedside, leaped out through the window, rushed to the stable at the rear, called for the groom, and had Shun brought out. With that, declaring that her injury had suddenly worsened and she needed to go to the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s place, she nimbly leaped into the saddle and fled headlong out the rear gate.

16. Diamond

After escaping Beniya’s house, Mirumo first went to the tailor to retrieve her clothing and tossed out a single large diamond as payment. Next she visited the hatter, then the shoemaker, then the swordsmith, retrieving her items and paying each merchant with a single jewel plucked from her hair. When she then charged south down the capital's main avenue, she soon encountered Beniya—gasping for breath as he ran toward her, still clad in the cast-off old woman's clothes that had belonged to Mirumo. Then Mirumo, with brutal force, suddenly charged her horse at Beniya and, before he could flee, trampled him down, inflicting grave injuries. After confirming he had completely stopped breathing and lay face down, she turned back, lifted him onto her horse under the pretense of rescuing him, and entered a certain forest.

There, Mirumo removed the bandages from her own face and completely wrapped Beniya's bloodied visage. Then she returned the borrowed garments to Beniya and dressed him as he had been before, donned new male attire herself, and cast off the old woman's clothes. Having done this, Mirumo once again hoisted Beniya's limp form onto Shun's back and galloped full tilt toward the capital. Using the great ginkgo tree west of the royal castle as her landmark this time, she reached the Blue-Eyed Doctor's gate, flung Beniya down from the horse's back, let out a shrill cry as she vaulted from the saddle, then swiftly vanished into the shadows.

The famed steed Shun left behind—being but a beast—could not have understood what had transpired. Yet when he saw what had fallen from his back—his master Beniya—the animal showed concern despite his nature, sniffing incessantly at Beniya’s body while circling around him, until at last raising his head to let out a high, mournful whinny. From early on, messengers had been arriving incessantly at the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s residence from Beniya’s household, repeatedly asking whether Beniya had yet arrived. Having heard the full details from these messengers, the Blue-Eyed Doctor grew so anxious he could neither stand nor sit still—when suddenly, a horse’s whinny sounded before the front gate. Thinking this might be the moment, he rushed out to investigate. To his shock, there lay Beniya collapsed at the base of the ginkgo tree, drenched in blood, with Shun pacing restlessly nearby in evident concern.

The Blue-Eyed Doctor was so shocked at this sight he nearly lost his footing, but first things first, he enlisted the help of the messenger from Beniya’s household. Together they carried Beniya into his own bed. After stripping him completely and wiping away the blood, he examined the wounds and found them surprisingly shallow—with about a week’s time, they would likely heal. It appeared he had been struck violently in the chest and head, completely unconscious with no breath or pulse, his body cold as ice and his lips having turned purple. However, by the time the messenger had ridden Shun back and brought Beniya’s parents without even taking anything, Beniya had regained his breath through the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s skillful care and the efficacy of the good medicine, and was sleeping soundly and peacefully.

Upon seeing this, the parents rejoiced as if another child had been born, weeping tears of joy. And now, belatedly impressed by the Blue-Eyed Doctor's skillful care, they proclaimed him not only Beniya's but also their own life's parent and offered their deepest gratitude.

17. Copper Pot Beniya was carried home by members of his household that night, but even after being laid in his usual bed, his fever raged so fiercely that he continued groaning incoherently in his delirium. And all through that night, he did nothing but mutter deliriously, but whenever he opened his eyes and caught sight of his parents or sisters, he would immediately begin raving like a madman— "You mustn’t enter this room… Not Father… Not Mother… Not my sisters… None of the retainers either." “Listen... listen... I’ve been cursed by a demon.” “The Demon’s fruit.” “The Demon’s Benikō.” “And then the Demon’s Shun… The seven fruits were the Demon’s number… I was cursed by the number seven.” “I was deceived by the Demon’s Benikō.” “I was trampled by the Demon’s Shun.” “Ah—terrifying… Oh—agonizing.” “Father… Mother… Sisters… Dangerous… dangerous.” “It’s dangerous to be by my side.” “The Demon has disguised itself as Benikō.” “And if that Demon-possessed Shun comes charging through this window any moment now… Dangerous… dangerous.” “Please leave.” “Sisters, get out.” “No one must stay by my side.” “Hurry! Hurry!”

No sooner had he shouted than he heavily laid his head back on the pillow and drifted into a fitful sleep. This kind of thing occurred two or three times throughout the night, but those by his side could make no sense of what was happening and could only panic in confusion. Taking every precaution, they moved Mother and the sisters away from the room while having Father and another—a stout-hearted, powerfully built retainer named Kuroushi—keep watch by the bedside as two. Meanwhile, they ordered the stable groom to tightly bind Shun to a pillar so he couldn’t move, stationing two additional guards for good measure.

When the next morning came, while it was still dim, the Blue-Eyed Old Man came to visit. Beniya’s parents and household members had been piling worry upon worry since the previous night, waiting restlessly without getting a wink of sleep all night for the Old Man’s arrival. When they saw his face, they swarmed around him from all sides as if a god had descended and recounted everything that had happened since last night. Then, for some reason, the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s complexion began to change before their eyes, and his lips started quivering uncontrollably, until finally he involuntarily—

“Seven demons.” “Seven demons.” “That can’t be.” “That can’t be.”

he blurted out. Yet when pressed by all present about devising some means to save Beniya from this uncanny malady, he seemed gripped by unbearable terror—teeth clenched and eyes fixed wide while glaring at the ceiling. But after a moment, the Blue-Eyed Doctor heaved a profound sigh and addressed them— “Understood.” “Were this demon one known to me,” he declared, “I would assuredly slay it for your sake.” “Yet by my reckoning,” he continued gravely, “this bears no trace of demoncraft.” “For I know full well where such fiends abide.”

“And what kind of demon is this demon?” Duke Beniki pressed hurriedly. When the Blue-Eyed Doctor received this question, he appeared startled anew, but soon answered with feigned nonchalance—

“Yes. That demon is the most terrifying in all creation—should anyone even hear its name, they would immediately become possessed and transform into a demon themselves. That is why I cannot speak it.” “Then how do you know that name?” When Duchess Beniki posed this question, the Blue-Eyed Doctor stiffened. He answered with visible anguish—

“As for me alone，even were I to hear that name or behold its form，it would hold no power over me.” “My! How peculiar.” “How curious indeed.” “Might there exist some ingenious method you employ to ward off demonic possession?”

“Yes, such a thing exists.” “However, that is a secret passed down through generations in my family, and I cannot tell you of it now.” “My family has protected this secret for generations, upholding his ancient decrees—those who steal human forms,” “those who steal human voices,” “those who steal human living blood.” “These three are demons.” “Kill them on sight.” “It is my duty to spread these words—‘Destroy them’—throughout the land.” “Yes, yes! People did speak of such decrees! That’s what reminded me—the one stealing Benikō’s form now must be a demon! Please, Blue-Eyed Doctor—you must defeat that demon! You know not just illnesses but demons in detail! Please, I beg of you!” “Everyone had heard that such decrees existed.” “That’s what reminded me—” “The one stealing Benikō’s form now must undoubtedly be a demon.” “Blue-Eyed Doctor, I implore you—you must defeat that demon!” “You know not only about illnesses but also demons in detail.” “I implore you—I beg of you!”

Duke Beniki grasped the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s hands, spilling tears as he pleaded, but upon hearing this, all others present turned deathly pale, trembling in terror at the realization that a true demon was now targeting Lord Beniya.

The Blue-Eyed Doctor placed his hand on his chest in acknowledgment and saluted. Then he quietly entered Beniya’s room to examine the patient’s condition. When he had thoroughly finished his examination, he turned to everyone with a relieved expression—

“Please rest assured, everyone. Lord Beniya’s condition is, as I suspected, merely an ordinary injury, and it is certainly not the case that a demon is targeting him. As for that injury, it has now improved considerably, and I believe he will soon be able to rise and walk. However, as an added precaution, everyone should continue to remain fully attentive as before and tend to him with care.”

he said. After bidding farewell to everyone, he leisurely made his way home.

However, immediately after exiting the gate of Duke Beniki’s residence, the Blue-Eyed Old Man crossed his arms, hung his head, and began walking while deep in thought. And so, he muttered incessantly under his breath—

“Demon. Demon.” He kept repeating them. When he reached his house’s gate at last, the Blue-Eyed Doctor halted and stood staring upward at the ginkgo tree before it, arms still crossed.

The ginkgo tree had already lost all its leaves, its branches spread high into the clear, vast sky like clouds. The Blue-Eyed Old Man gazed up at its treetop for a while, then lowered his eyes to look at its roots. At the base, yellow leaves still lay piled without decaying. Staring intently at the spot, he seemed to reach a decision. He nodded deeply to himself and scanned his surroundings—no people passed by, not even a cat—leaving only the rustling sound of the river flowing before him audible. Having confirmed this, he nodded again, hurried through the gate, and soon reappeared shouldering a single hoe.

Just as one might wonder what he was about to do, the Blue-Eyed Old Man once again surveyed his surroundings. Having confirmed that no one was passing by, he approached the base of the ginkgo tree. Brushing away the piled-up leaves, he earnestly began digging there. And when he had dug four or five shaku deep, a sheet of iron plate emerged. When the Blue-Eyed Old Man finally pried up the edge of the plate with the tip of his hoe, beneath it lay a stone box, inside which sat a single copper jar—sealed tightly with a brass band as though containing some immensely important secret. However, surrounding it were thick, stubborn ginkgo roots coiled in multiple layers, making it appear nearly impossible to dig them out even if one brought one or two hoes. As though the ginkgo tree were declaring, "This is mine." As if declaring it would never hand it over to anyone, it seemed to be clutching it tightly. The Blue-Eyed Old Man stared at this for a while, but soon appeared relieved as he let out a sigh,

“First, it’s safe. Given this condition, the remaining four demons haven’t escaped from that jar yet. For now, I only need to defeat those three—the Mirror, the Parrot, and the Treasure Snake that hasn’t appeared. Still—where could the Treasure Snake be hiding? And from where will it emerge? This is indeed worrisome. Could it be that what’s targeting Lord Beniya is the Treasure Snake? If so, then we truly can’t afford any carelessness.”

While muttering to himself and glaring fixedly toward the royal palace, he soon came to his senses, hurriedly covered the jar with soil, scattered ginkgo leaves about, and ensured no trace remained.

Eighteen: Ice and Iron

When that day too passed uneventfully and morning came again, an urgent messenger arrived once more from Beniya’s house requesting the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s immediate presence. The Blue-Eyed Old Man rushed over without delay to find Beniya’s father and Kuroushi—who had kept vigil all night—waiting at the entrance. Taking him by both hands, they led him to Beniya’s bedside. They seated him in a chair there and asked him to observe Beniya’s condition silently for a time. As the Blue-Eyed Old Man watched intently with growing suspicion—wondering what could be happening—Beniya’s cheeks suddenly drained of color and his fire-red eyes snapped wide open. Then he began writhing while glaring at the ceiling,

“Last night it came—the demon came.” “A demon that looked just like Benikō Hime… wearing men’s clothing… with purple hair… a silver sword… a diamond clasp… stuck a white hand out from the window… held a beautiful jeweled cord in that hand… and threw that cord.” “Father was asleep too.” “Kuroushi was asleep too.” “Only I know.” “It’s a demon!” “It’s a demon!” “It’s the demon from before!” “Damn you, demon!” “Come at me again!” “I won’t let you escape next time!” “Untie this bandage.” “Take this futon.” “Hurry. Hurry!”

He shouted, but soon appeared exhausted and collapsed sideways, beginning to doze off.

Witnessing this scene, the Blue-Eyed Doctor seemed so startled out of his wits that he involuntarily—

“Mmm... Demon...” “Demon...” he shouted, but then plopped down into a nearby chair, closed his eyes, pressed his lips into a tight line, and looked thoroughly vexed— “It’s the Treasure Snake. “It’s the Treasure Snake.” “Well now, did it go exactly as I expected?” he muttered to himself. The people nearby—starting with his parents and everyone else—grew increasingly astonished by the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s strange words and actions, wondering what in the world could be happening. They stared at the Blue-Eyed Doctor’s fearsome expression—lost in silent thought—as if to bore holes through him. Then, appearing to have soon hit upon an idea, the Blue-Eyed Doctor snapped his eyes open—

“All right,” “I’ve made up my mind.” “I absolutely must witness that demon’s true form with my own eyes.” he declared. Then, the Blue-Eyed Old Man earnestly pleaded with Duke Beniki and his wife, explaining that starting tonight he wished to keep solitary vigil to uncover the demon’s true form, fervently asking them to entrust him with the task. When the parents heard these resolute words from the Blue-Eyed Old Man, how could they refuse? They immediately consented, leaving the Blue-Eyed Old Man alone in the chamber while stationing numerous strong and courageous retainers around the mansion as a precautionary watch.

When the Blue-Eyed Old Man found himself alone in the room, he slowly rose to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. Since the room had only a single window once the door was shut, with no other means of entry or exit, he concluded that the demon must have undoubtedly entered through that window. Having ascertained this, the Blue-Eyed Old Man, still wanting to get a better look outside the window, suddenly placed his hand on the window frame and discovered something strange in the corner. They were three beautiful rubies.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man knew everything there was to know in this world, and particularly had extensive knowledge of gemstones. Thus, when he saw these three rubies at a glance, he immediately recognized them as exceptionally rare, top-quality jewels that no ordinary person could possess. Yet he had absolutely no idea who had left them there or for what purpose. Perhaps this was simply a prank the demon had played for some purpose. If that were the case, he thought it best to avoid disturbing them as much as possible and left them exactly as they were.

As the night deepened within, the Blue-Eyed Old Man drank a drug to ward off sleep, pulled a chair to Beniya's bedside alone, and sat down. In his pocket he had prepared a separate medicine bottle to pour upon the demon should he spot it, spending that entire night without so much as a wink of sleep. The poison was a terrifying one that would turn all blood to ice should even a drop touch the body. Yet that night passed without incident. The next night and the night after also passed peacefully. When the eve of the royal audience ceremony at the palace arrived at last, the entire household became embroiled in frantic preparations for Princess Noukou's attire during that time. Once all was ready, they had the princess lie upon a bed placed at the center of the great hall—where the Stone God was enshrined in the mansion's deepest reaches—with four retainers keeping rotating vigil around her through the night. This served as precaution against any harm befalling her.

The parents saw this situation, felt reassured, and withdrew to their own chamber. Benikō Hime also came to the bedside— “Sister, please rest.”

With these words, she left, glancing back again and again, her face filled with an indescribable sadness. When she saw this, Princess Noukou— "Ah, even sleeping in this house together with Benikō Hime may come to an end. Benikō must have been crying because of that. What a sad thing this is!" As she thought this while gazing at the coffered ceiling made of magnificent fragrant wood, hot tears spontaneously overflowed from her eyes and streamed down both sides. At that moment, this vast palace fell utterly silent—so quiet one could have heard a pin drop.

At this time, the Blue-Eyed Old Man sat alone by Beniya’s bedside, the poison bottle kept tucked in his robe, waiting intently for the demon to arrive at any moment. However, nothing happened until past midnight, and only the sound of Beniya’s labored breathing grew quieter as the night deepened.

However, when midnight had passed and dawn seemed near, a woman’s beautiful voice singing a song could be heard from somewhere in the garden. “Beniya saw the face. He saw the demon’s face. Those who saw the demon’s face Must naturally be killed. I am the demon. I am the demon. I will surely kill Beniya!” The voice seemed like one the Blue-Eyed Old Man had heard somewhere before, but at this moment he simply couldn’t recall it. Upon hearing this voice, Beniya instantly opened his eyes wide and raised his head—

“That voice.” “That voice.” “Demon’s voice.” “My sister Benikō’s voice!”

he shouted. The Blue-Eyed Old Man immediately leaped out the window and dashed toward where the voice came from. With one hand on his poison bottle's stopper, he ran frenzied-eyed, poised to drench the demon upon encounter—yet mysteriously, it had vanished without trace. Only the frost-laden wind sliced through him blade-sharp, while starlight cascaded from the boundless sky, glittering without mercy.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man felt as if he’d been tricked by a fox and stood there in a daze. But in the midst of this, he suddenly realized it was the demon’s scheme and hurried back to Beniya’s room—only to find what a sight awaited him. Beniya had somehow half-emerged from his futon, gasping for breath, eyes blazing, teeth clenched, glaring out the window. In his left hand, he appeared to be tightly gripping one hard object. The Blue-Eyed Old Man started, then realized that the demon had lured him out and come to torment Beniya once more. He hurried to Beniya’s side—

“Lord Beniya. Young Lord. What has transpired here? Did the demon come? And where did it flee?” he asked. However, Beniya did not respond to this and—

“Demon! Damned demon! Did I let Benikō’s damned demon get away?” he shouted. When he collapsed backward with a thud, rubies—each as beautiful and large as those by the window—tumbled down from the bed in a handful, scattering across the floor where they glowed like blood. This made clear they weren’t trinkets forgotten by Beniya’s sisters but were undoubtedly left by the demon. Without delay, the Blue-Eyed Old Man summoned Beniya’s parents to watch over him. Lighting a nearby lantern, he climbed out the window and scoured the area, finding one or two rubies scattered across the stone pavement at intervals. Convinced he had found a trail, he pressed the lantern to the ground as he followed the rubies’ path—which stopped beneath the neighboring room’s window at intervals of one ken—where pale yellow light seeped through the curtains.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man had long known this room was Benikō's. Yet he had never once looked inside. So he promptly blew out the lantern's flame and peered stealthily through that window. The instant he glimpsed the scene within, the Blue-Eyed Old Man froze stock-still like a rod. On the bed directly beside the window lay a single beautiful girl. That face. That form. From the color of her hair cascading over both sides of the bed to the exact tightness of its curls, she matched without the slightest deviation the girl who had slashed open the ginkgo-leaf pouch on his back in that dream.

For a while, the Blue-Eyed Old Man stood dumbfounded by the overwhelming strangeness, staring vacantly at the girl's sleeping face. Eventually he heaved a long sigh, gave a firm nod as if reaching some conclusion, and with trembling hands gently pushed against the window—which slid smoothly open to both sides without resistance. From there he crawled inside soundlessly, stepped down onto the floor, cut open the poison bottle's seal while gripping it in his right hand, assumed a guarded stance, and stared fixedly at the girl's sleeping face illuminated by the round glass lantern's pale yellow light.

The more he looked, the more beautiful the girl appeared. Long hair swirling purple like evening clouds. Long eyebrows and long eyelashes. Flower-like lips. Eyes and mouth quietly closed, her form sleeping so soundly no breath could be heard. As he watched, she grew so exquisitely beautiful and alluring she no longer seemed of this world. But when he looked around more carefully, rubies lay scattered here and there—one or two each in her hair and around the pillow—each matching those by Beniya’s bedside in size.

When the Blue-Eyed Old Man saw this, he involuntarily let out a sound— “Demon!” he called out. The moment she heard this voice, the girl immediately bolted upright, glanced once at the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s face, then suddenly contorted into a terrifying expression— “Huh—?! Blue-Eyed Old Man… I am Benikō. I am the daughter of this house. I am not a demon.” While shouting these words, she disheveled her purple hair and scattered rubies like rain, trying to flee through the window without another word—but it was already too late. As soon as the medicine poured by the Blue-Eyed Old Man touched some part of her body, all the blood within turned to ice. She collapsed onto the bed with a thud and within moments froze solid.

When the Blue-Eyed Old Man saw this, he let out a sigh of relief and placed a hand on his chest, yet still steadied his nerves and calmed his racing heart. Then he approached the corpse and carefully examined the surroundings. Having finally confirmed her death, he dealt with the medicine bottle by tucking it into his robe, then stealthily slipped out through the window. Yet even as he hurried back to Beniya's room—anxious whether anyone had heard the scream—what horror awaited him there! Beniya's condition had suddenly worsened in that brief absence, now appearing on the verge of drawing his final breath. Waving his tightly clenched left fist as if to rend something apart, he spoke in fragmented, delirious utterances—

“How infuriating... How infuriating... Demon... Benikō...” he was saying.

Beniya’s parents, who had been gathered by his bedside crying and worrying about what would happen, rushed over at once when they saw the Blue-Eyed Old Man return—

“Please help us. “Please help us.” “Please save Beniya!” While shouting in unison, they clung to his sleeves. Even the Blue-Eyed Old Man—accustomed as he was to patients—was shocked and panicked by this development. He lunged at Beniya’s left hand, desperately trying to pry it open, but not even a lever could have moved it. Instead, the fist only clenched tighter and tighter, its color turning from purple to black. The Blue-Eyed Old Man grew even more shocked and panicked—

“A blunder! A terrible blunder!” Shouting this, he pulled a sharp dagger from his robe and tried to cut off the arm at the blackened part. Seeing this, the parents suddenly grabbed the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s arm and pulled him away— “Wh-what are you doing?” “What are you doing?”

they cried out.

“Ah. Please release me. If we don’t amputate now, he’ll turn to iron! Lord Beniya will become iron! Hah… Let me go.”

“Wh-what?!” “He’ll turn into iron…”

The parents, utterly terrified, released the Blue-Eyed Old Man. The Blue-Eyed Old Man immediately latched onto Beniya’s arm, thrust his dagger into the upper arm, and twisted it with a grinding motion—but it proved utterly useless. Even the sharp dagger that could slice through bone and meat like tofu bent and snapped as softly as lead or silver, unable to leave so much as a scratch. In the blink of an eye, Beniya’s body—from arm to shoulder, shoulder to arm—was suffused with a dull purple hue. Soon his eyes glared wide, teeth clenched as he grasped at empty air, until his entire form became a mass of pitch-black iron.

When Beniya’s parents saw this terrifying, bizarre manner of death, they stood frozen as if the soles of their feet were glued to the floorboards, unable to move a muscle—not even a single tear fell. The Blue-Eyed Old Man, too, could do nothing but stand there in a daze, staring fixedly at Beniya’s corpse.

Then, muttering to himself like a soliloquy— “The body turns into iron. The body turns into iron. I’ve never seen this before. I’ve never heard of this before. A demon’s doing? A demon’s trickery? Strange. Strange. Shocking... Shocking...” he was saying. Meanwhile, the eastern sky began to brighten softly, and from between the withered trees in the distant garden, the dazzling light of the morning sun flooded all at once into this room. And all at once, it swept over the faces of the three people standing frozen there, their complexions as bloodless as marble. Yet the three people did not even blink, could not move a muscle, and simply stood there staring holes into the terrifying form of the glistening iron corpse that clutched at empty air.

Then from the royal palace atop the distant hill came the sound of beautiful music, borne on a biting frosty wind that cut to the bone. This served as advance notice that today in the royal court would commence that rarest of ceremonies - a royal audience for the most beautiful and wise maidens selected from across the realm. At that moment two maids arrived and bowed courteously at the chamber entrance. One addressed them in a hushed, low voice—

“Princess Noukou’s preparations are complete.” “She is currently waiting eagerly in the dining hall.” she said. In stark contrast, the other spoke in a trembling voice with chattering teeth—

“Pr-Princess Benikō… sh-she’s… still in everyday clothes… in bed… c-c-cold as ice…”

While saying this, she sank to the floor and burst into tears.

Part Three: Treasure Snake

Nineteen: The Yellow Rose Basket

Princess Noukou had not slept a wink through the night before. As she lay awake pondering the strange and terrifying events that had recently occurred around her, she remained in her innermost chamber throughout those dark hours, completely unaware of what had befallen her elder brother or younger sister during that fateful night. When dawn finally broke, her attendants helped her bathe and purify herself before applying her makeup. First she anointed her hair with oil from the blossoms of a tree called Kōunboku, then washed her face with dew gathered from white lilies. She donned a white silk kimono with wide sleeves and a trailing hem, layered a black fox fur coat over it, placed an agate crown upon her head, and took up a basket filled with yellow roses. After slipping narrow boots of deer suede onto her feet, her preparations stood complete. All that remained was to share a farewell meal in the dining hall before boarding the carriage with her maids to depart for the royal palace.

Then at that moment, someone suddenly opened the door to the dressing room, rushed inside, and before she could even register surprise, embraced Princess Noukou tightly— “I won’t let you go anywhere.” “I won’t let you go anywhere.” “I’ll hold you like this until I die.” a voice cried out. That was Princess Noukou’s mother.

The mother had gone mad after witnessing her two children die in a horrifying and mysterious manner unlike any in the world that very morning. And so, determined not to send Princess Noukou—the only one left behind—anywhere, she embraced her like this. However, Princess Noukou knew nothing of such matters and was so startled—

“Oh! Mother, what are you doing?” “Mother, what are you doing?” She tried to cry out, but her timing came too late while his arrived swift—before she could react, Father came rushing in. Without uttering a word, he forcibly took Princess Noukou from Mother’s arms, pulled her hand with relentless force as he dragged her outside, shoved her into the waiting flower-adorned carriage drawn by three white horses, then immediately turned to the driver—

“Now,” “Go to the royal palace without delay.” “Noukou.” “Do not be alarmed.” “All will be explained in time.” “Make haste to the palace.” “You are Duke Beniki’s daughter.” “Never let your composure waver.” “Show no sorrow in your countenance.” he shouted. The driver raised his whip in salute, took firm hold of the reins, and with a sharp shake sent the carriage racing toward the royal palace.

At that moment, Mother, who had gone mad, rushed over— “Oh, Princess Noukou. Don’t go!”

She tried to chase after it. From the carriage window, Princess Noukou also leaned out— “Father. Mother.” she cried out, but Duke Beniki restrained Mother…… The carriage carrying Princess Noukou, drawn by three white horses, rapidly grew smaller and smaller in the distance until it was soon hidden by the cloud of dust rising behind it.

Duke Beniki had the maids who arrived afterward tend to the unconscious Duchess and take her to her chambers, but he himself entered Beniya’s room alone. There stood the Blue-Eyed Old Man, rigid as a withered tree, having lined up Beniya’s iron corpse and Benikō Hime’s icy corpse side by side, his gaze fixed intently upon them. Duke Beniki quietly approached their side and stared fixedly at the forms of the two wretched corpses, but before long, the tears he had been holding back again and again now overflowed from his eyes all at once, streaming down both cheeks—streaming down, streaming down—

“Beniya, Benikō… Why have you become like this? What sin did you commit to deserve such punishment? Father wanted you both to see Princess Noukou just once when she left home this morning. But had she witnessed your states—how terribly shocked she would have been! So I forced myself to endure... though my chest felt near bursting.” “Forgive me, Noukou.” “Alas, wife—you too must have suffered greatly.” “Your words hold truth.” Beniya turned to iron. Benikō turned to ice. Only Noukou remained. Not wanting to send her anywhere was only natural. He didn’t want to send her—didn’t want to send her. Yet send her he must. Had circumstances allowed—how he would have wished both parents accompanying her! Ladies-in-waiting attending! A splendid joyful procession! But none of this could be. Our nation’s law decrees: when kin die—their bloodline barred from court for full day and night. Thus I pretended Beniya and Benikō lived—tried sending you forth... only startling you instead—sending you off weeping with grief.

Alas，brother had turned to iron. Sister had turned to ice. The last remaining one rode in a flower-adorned carriage to the royal palace，weeping as she went to become queen. What joy could there be in becoming queen? What joy could there be in the royal palace? Alas. Alas. "I'm going mad."

The voice gradually rose higher, growing increasingly disordered and incoherent. Finally unable to remain standing, he collapsed onto the floor in tears, hands pressed to his face, but soon staggered back to his feet,

“I will pray to the Stone God. “I will pray to the Stone God. “I will pray for Princess Noukou’s safety.”

With these words, he staggered out of the room.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man who remained behind continued to stand there, staring at the two corpses. However, shortly after Duke Beniki left the room, he plopped down into a nearby chair, crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and sank into deep thought. And then, in a deeply sorrowful manner, he muttered to himself: —

“Alas.” “I finally figured it out.” “I finally figured out the demon’s escape route.” “The demon must have escaped from that ginkgo tree.” The recent dream had been a prophetic one. Benikō Hime must certainly have seen that dream. And His Majesty must have witnessed it too.

That's right. His Majesty has been possessed by a demon alongside Benikō Hime. No. "Depending on how matters transpired...the remaining four demons...may have stolen His Majesty's august form..." When he had uttered this much, the Blue-Eyed Old Man abruptly shuddered violently and fixed his gaze upon the palace. His countenance drained of color as his eyebrows arched upward and his lips pressed tightly together.

Yet as if he had finally noticed something, he let out a deep, resigned sigh, lowered his head, and clenched both fists tightly before declaring—

“That’s right. I must uncover His Majesty’s true identity at all costs. Though it pains me to say… if the current King Aimaru-sama isn’t the true King Aimaru-sama… I must find the real King Aimaru-sama, protect him, and depose the current one. I must exterminate the demons. I mustn’t let them end up like Benikō Hime. And yet the Treasure Snake… Where could that Treasure Snake that devoured this house have gone? First, I must begin investigating immediately.”

The pitiable ones were the people of this household. The entire household had been devoured by the demon that completely possessed Benikō Hime. And I could not save them. Though my power was insufficient, I still caused two deaths. The people of this household must surely resent me now. They must surely think me a worthless fool. But there was no helping it. To make excuses would require revealing this country's secrets entirely. Ah, this secret... this secret I cannot tell anyone. The secret burned to ashes and sealed in that copper jar. And this duty to guard it—my secret duty so profoundly mysterious in all the world. Even were I to slaughter every soul in this nation, this secret duty must be protected. What a mysteriously profound duty! Ah, why was I born with blue eyes? Why born a man with blue hair and blue beard? Are there truly no other blue-haired, blue-eyed men left? If such a man existed, I would pass on this vital secret duty at once.

"And then I want to drink poison and die. Alas. The secret of Aimaru Country became ash. The secret of Benikō Hime's heart became ice. The secret of Beniya's clenched fist became iron. What would become of my duty's secret? Stone? Wood? Water? Earth? Anything would suffice. 'I must quickly meet a blue-eyed, blue-haired man, pass on this secret, and forget this dreadful duty.'" In the Blue-Eyed Old Man's soliloquy, increasingly strange phrases kept emerging one after another. But when he reached this point, he closed his lips and stared fixedly at a distant spot beyond the window. There lay King Aimaru's palace, beautiful as a painting, from which came sounds of music even livelier than before. This finally signaled that the royal audience ceremony was about to commence.

Twenty: Queen of the Sea

On this day, six women had come for the royal audience ceremony. Of these, four were women selected one from each of the four countries to the east, west, south, and north, all dressed in their respective countries' proud winter fashions. The woman from the northern country wore a splendid coat of otter fur. The woman from the southern country wore a jacket woven from waterfowl feathers. The woman from the eastern country trailed a long hem of sky-blue silk. And the woman from the western country let her scarlet shoulder drape, shining like the sunset, ripple down to the floor. These four were each the foremost intelligent and beautiful princesses in their four countries, but compared to the beauty of the other two, they differed as greatly as the moon and a turtle.

The other two were Princess Noukou and Mirumo.

Princess Noukou wore a black fox coat over her white kimono as when she had left home earlier, holding a basket of yellow roses in her hand, but her somehow sorrowful, noble, and gentle figure seemed almost too precious to be placed alongside the other four women. However, the other one was different, wearing a purple man’s outfit adorned with large diamond buttons, suspended a delicate silver sword, and with a single swan feather inserted in the purple hat crowning her head. And for some reason, the topmost button on her jacket bore a single large white rose instead of diamonds like the others, which suited her so perfectly that it appeared dazzlingly gallant and resplendent.

The noble people from various countries who had come to witness this extraordinary royal audience ceremony were all astonished by the two women’s beauty, suspecting whether they might be deities or mortals, and wondering where such exquisite princesses could have possibly come from. Yet among them was one who stood far more astonished than all the others marveling in suspicion—someone who doubted their very eyes, questioning whether such an inconceivable phenomenon could exist in this world. That person was none other than Princess Noukou.

Princess Noukou had been completely absorbed until this moment. She had been embraced by her mother, pulled away by her father, brought to the palace without understanding anything, unable to cry, and stood there blankly; but the moment she caught sight of the girl dressed in male attire, she gasped in shock and nearly cried out. And so—could this really be a dream? Why had Benikō come there? What had happened to her appearance? I wondered if it might be a trick of my eyes, but it was neither a trick of the eyes nor anything else. Her complexion was flushed redder than usual, her figure clad in a man’s garment, and that purple-coiled hair. That gaze fixed intently upon Your Majesty. Tightly pursed lips. No matter how one looked, she was the spitting image of Benikō... What could this mean? "If this were merely a coincidental resemblance, it was far too uncanny," she thought, staring at the girl's profile so intently it seemed holes might open in her gaze. At that moment, the girl boldly stepped forward from among the six and approached Your Majesty without a trace of fear. And then, when she removed her hat and made a deep bow, she soon offered her greetings in a voice like the ringing of a silver bell.

“Your Majesty. “I am the Queen of the Sea Kingdom that lies beneath the southern ocean of this realm. “Having received Your Majesty’s proclamation through my servant Kaniyatsu, I have journeyed all the way from the seabed—though most humbly—to attend this royal audience. “As I had no attendants to accompany me on this voyage, I adopted this masculine guise for travel’s convenience. “I most earnestly beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness for presenting myself before the Great King of the Land in such presumptuous attire. “Should Your Majesty deign to accept these jewels as a token of this audience, not only I but all my seabed subjects shall express our deepest gratitude for Your Majesty’s boundless magnanimity.”

As she spoke, she pulled a handful of seaweed from her pocket and held it aloft, whereupon a great purple diamond's light began to shine like a rainbow, illuminating the entire vast hall. All the gathered people had both their eyes and hearts captivated by this spectacle, becoming as if intoxicated. And there on the spot, that girl was decided to become queen consort, while Princess Noukou's elegant beauty also caught King Aimaru's eye—she was appointed as the highest-ranking court lady among the king's attendants, with the other four women becoming his close attendants who would remain in the palace from that very day.

However, Princess Noukou had no time at all to care about what role she had been given or what people were saying about her. She was completely absorbed in gazing at the figure of the girl who called herself the Queen of the Sea and was utterly dumbfounded. However, in the midst of this, Princess Noukou suddenly remembered something terrifying and involuntarily shuddered. "Could it be that this girl is one of those things they call demons? When Lord Brother Beniya was ill, he stated that a demon had disguised itself as Benikō. Could that demon be this queen? If Benikō were truly here, she could not possibly remain so composed before me. And if she were neither Benikō nor a demon, there would be no reason for her to resemble Benikō so completely—from her appearance and voice down to the very curl of her hair. A demon. A demon. It must be a demon. Disguising itself as Benikō to inflict grave injuries upon Brother, has it now come to this kingdom as the Queen of the Sea to become queen? Perhaps it has cursed me and come to prevent me from becoming queen. That must be it. That must be it. Ah. Why is my family so deeply entwined with demons? What a tenacious demon this is!"

As this thought took hold, Princess Noukou saw the Sea Queen in male attire—who until now had appeared as a beautiful girl identical to her younger sister—now transform into a demon sprouting horns with a mouth split all the way to her ears. The terror of it nearly made her lose consciousness. When she saw that Sea Queen draw near to the king's side and receive the queen's crown, even that vast hall seemed to spin wildly alongside the great crowd of people. Then all at once, everyone raised their hands and stamped their feet—

“Long live the Great King of the Land!” “Long live the Queen of the Sea!”

As they shouted until their voices cracked, Princess Noukou involuntarily raised her voice―

“The Queen of the Sea is a demon!”

She cried out, but pitifully her voice was drowned out by the multitude's shouts, and at that very moment Princess Noukou, overwhelmed by terror, fainted and collapsed onto the floor.

Twenty-One: Dream of Death

How many days had passed, how many hours she knew not, but when Princess Noukou came to her senses and opened her eyes, she found herself lying wrapped in white bedding upon a bed placed at the center of a beautiful room she had never seen before. When she looked by the pallid light emanating from the silk-covered snow lantern lit above her head, she saw the four women who had attended the royal audience now dressed as court ladies on either side of her. They were slumped against the edges of the bed while tending to her care, all four dozing in an unseemly manner.

Princess Noukou, still feeling as though she were dreaming, closed her eyes again and slept soundly. At that moment, from behind the bed, a snake with gem-like scales glistening slickly began crawling up. Then it crawled into the soundly sleeping princess's bosom and quietly began sucking beneath her jewel-like swollen breasts. Before long, when it had sucked its belly full of blood, it began drip-dropping the liquid from its mouth—but this blood all transformed into blazing rubies that scattered down from Princess Noukou’s chest onto the bedding and floor. In this manner of sucking and spitting, repeated many times over, Princess Noukou’s body had become as though buried in jewels.

At this moment, Princess Noukou was soundly asleep while having a strange dream.

In that dream, at some unknown time while Princess Noukou slept, a singing voice could be heard from somewhere far away. The voice was so pure and beautiful, so closely resembling her younger sister Benikō Hime’s voice, that Princess Noukou found this strange and pricked up her ears to discern where it was coming from. As she listened, the voice gradually drew nearer until it seemed to be singing right in the adjacent room. Yet she realized this song was not Benikō Hime’s singing but rather the work of that red bird Lord Brother Beniya had recently presented to the royal palace. The song went like this.

“Alas, pitiable Princess Noukou.” “Alas, sorrowful Princess Noukou.” “Parted from parents and siblings while still alive,” “And parted by death, parted by tears.” “Wearing a crown of flowers,” “Holding a bouquet of flowers in hand,” “In a carriage adorned with flowers,” “Though living, entombed,” “Princess Noukou became a mere figure.” “The king of Aimaru Country,” “With a heart single-mindedly yearning,” “Coming to today’s royal audience,” “King Aimaru’s queen,” “Not oneself, but the younger sister’s,” “Is it Benikō, a demon, or a fiend of the sea?” “Now, deep within the royal palace,” “When she sleeps alone in silence,” “Eyes welled up with hot tears,”

Streaming down from both eyes, Tears flowed even in the dream, Proof this was no mere dream. Seeing a dream within a dream, In a reality unaware it dreamed, This bitter, sorrowful feeling. A self straying from its own path, The one who knows in all this world - None but the crimson parrot knows. In this world of beauty and obedience, Deemed the woman among women, Why can Noukou, so clearly seen, Not become the king's true queen? Benikō? Demon? Or the king's own - Who has claimed the throne? None but one could ever know. In the black sea, waves rise,

In the blue sky, clouds billow,

The age-old mysteries of the world, Now appearing before the eyes, None in this world know but the red parrot.” Princess Noukou, while listening to this song, slowly rose and came to the doorway of the neighboring room, still straining her ears—when the parrot’s song that had been audible until just now abruptly ceased, leaving no trace of anyone in the chamber. Then from behind her came an unexpected touch—a hand gently resting on her shoulder. Startled, she turned around to find her cherished King Aimaru standing there. The king tenderly took the princess’s hand—

“Are you feeling quite well now? When you fainted yesterday morning, I was greatly worried—have you fully recovered? That gladdens me most. Now that dawn has broken, shall we two stroll through the flower garden?” His Majesty declared. Princess Noukou thought this strange and protested that being winter, no flowers could possibly bloom—whereupon the king chuckled and insisted, “Come see for yourself,” compelling her to accompany him to the garden.

When they arrived and looked—how wondrous! Flowers of spring and autumn bloomed all at once, glistening with dew under the morning sun. Princess Noukou stood there dumbfounded, gazing in rapture—while the king smiled warmly. "Well now, Princess Noukou. "If I will it, flowers shall bloom thus at any hour. "But tell me—among these many blossoms, which do you favor most? "Red? "Blue? "Yellow? "Or white? "Black?"

His Majesty inquired. Princess Noukou was troubled over how to respond and thought for a while, but eventually lowered her head sorrowfully—

"I originally adored pink flowers, but now I have come to love blue ones." She replied thus respectfully. When the king remained utterly silent for some time—standing as stiff as a rod—the princess found this strange and abruptly looked up at his face, only to discover: The king's face had transformed into a terrifying blue demon's visage. The princess was so shocked she nearly fainted; without so much as a backward glance, she frantically ran from the royal palace back to her home. Yet the moment she passed through the gate and breathed a sigh of relief in one place, she suddenly felt desolate and sorrowful. Wanting to meet Father and Mother quickly, she searched throughout the house—but though they had only been away a single day, it had become a deserted empty shell. Wild grass grew thick in the garden, the pond water had dried up completely, and everything about the place had changed utterly. Princess Noukou saw this state of affairs and became unbearably saddened. Just as she was about to collapse there in tears, her brother Beniya suddenly came from behind, held her back, and asked why she was crying so bitterly. The princess, overwhelmed with joy, clung fiercely to Beniya—

“Ah!” “Brother.” “Where are Father and Mother and that Benikō?” she asked.

Then Beniya grinned and— “Your younger sister has just gone out on an errand for her brother.” “And your parents are now in a distant place, but only that Shun knows where it is.” “Right now, Shun is hitched to the carriage in front of the gate. If you ride him there, you’ll probably meet them.”

Beniya said. The princess took to the idea at once. When she hurried back to the gate and looked, just as her brother had said, Shun stood there hitched to the carriage, waiting properly. She immediately leapt aboard, seized the reins, and cracked the whip high. The carriage crossed fields and forded rivers, climbed over mountains and leapt across valleys as it raced northward like a shooting star. But when they eventually reached an endlessly vast desert, the tracks sank into the sand, making it impossible to advance even a step. This time, she abandoned the carriage and proceeded on foot. Eventually, she arrived at a place where nothing was visible in any direction but mountains of sand and peaks of clouds, where a man as large as a mountain, made of stone, lay sleeping. When he saw Princess Noukou, he abruptly sat up and spoke in a slender, gentle voice that belied his appearance—

"What have you come to a place like this for? Where did you come from, and where are you going?" he asked. The princess was so astonished by the stone man’s enormous size that for a time she could neither respond nor do anything, but since he didn’t seem particularly ill-intentioned, she fully recounted her circumstances up to that point and pleaded earnestly, "Please let me meet my father and mother." When the stone man heard Princess Noukou’s tale of woe, he—for reasons unknown—was overcome with profound grief. Then he clawed at his own hair—

“Alas. “It’s all my fault.” While weeping and letting crystal beads fall profusely from his eyes, he soon regained his composure and kindly addressed Princess Noukou— “Alas, young lady. "That you should suffer such cruel misfortunes is entirely my fault." "I earnestly beg your forgiveness." "But there is nothing that can be done now, so instead I shall tell you where your parents reside." “Go there, and you will completely forget all your past hardships and sleep peacefully.” "You must never wake up." “For if you awaken, you shall return to that dreadful King Aimaru and the Sea Queen, where you will have to witness sorrowful things—so you must resolve yourself thus.” "You must now walk straight north, as far as you can go." "If you do so, you will certainly meet your parents there." “Farewell.” “Farewell.” “Lovely, lovely Princess Noukou.”

No sooner had he said this than he once again rolled over onto his back with a thud and fell asleep.

After parting from this Stone Man, when the princess advanced northward exactly as instructed, around the time dusk began to fall, there appeared before her a rocky mountain spewing pillars of fire and a lake glowing in their light. How beautiful those pillars of fire were. It was as if ten thousand fireworks had been launched at once—crimson, azure, golden, and countless other sparks scattering chaotically across the vast sky as they danced upward. Yet when one listened intently to their thunderous roar, did it not seem to resemble her father's voice? Princess Noukou, overwhelmed with joy and forgetting her legs' weariness, pressed onward until presently, from somewhere indistinct, came the dearly familiar voice of her mother. The princess, unwittingly lured by the voice, wandered toward it and soon reached the lakeshore, though the voice seemed to emanate from somewhere near the lake's center.

The princess immediately entered the lake with a splash, but the water gradually deepened, reaching from knees to waist then waist to chest. Even so proceeding without concern，the princess finally sank completely to the bottom. Yet she felt no breathlessness at all，the surroundings having turned green，within which light from the fiery mountain shone down，taking form as countless floating flowers until everything became like a flower garden. Pushing through their midst，she reached the garden’s center where Mother stood wearing white garments，who smiled gently upon seeing her，then lightly lifted her up and began stroking hair with a tender hand—

“Oh my, where have you been all this time?” “From now on, you must not go out to play without telling me.” “You must be terribly hungry by now.” “Now, drink the milk.”

As she said this, she opened her robe and let her suckle at her breast. The princess found both body and mind had unwittingly become like an infant's, filled with mingled sorrow and joy as tears streamed endlessly down. Soon, listening to her mother's softly sung lullaby while suckling at the warm breast, she drifted into gentle sleep. "Peony flowers bloomed. Cherry blossoms bloomed. From within the dream bloomed."

Lovely precious eyes bloomed. The Honorable Sun beamed cheerfully, The Honorable Moon beamed cheerfully, Lovely precious eyes, sweet mouth, All together laughed and beamed cheerfully. The lily flower closed. The Honorable Sun sank. Lovely precious eyes drowsily, Closed into the dream.

Twenty-Two: The White Wooden Bedstead

The next morning before dawn had fully broken, the palace's main gates swung open to both sides as two cavalrymen galloped out. Upon exiting the gate, they split into two—one raced toward the Blue-Eyed Old Man's residence while the other flew toward Duke Beniki's house. Having sent Princess Noukou off the previous day, Duke Beniki had immediately locked the gates tight, moved his two children's corpses to the Stone God's chamber, and there wept through a full day and night with the Duchess—yet all through this he remained tormented by worry over Princess Noukou's fate. Had word arrived yet that she'd become queen? He'd waited all day for congratulatory gifts from the royal palace, but no news came. Overcome with anxiety, Duke Beniki sent servants into town to gather rumors. They reported all six women who'd attended the royal audience remained at court, though details were unclear. When morning finally came again and night began receding at last, Duke Beniki opened his chamber window toward the palace. Then came the loud clatter of horseshoes from the palace's direction—one set heading toward the Blue-Eyed Old Man's home while another charged through his own gate to halt abruptly at the entrance. Certain this messenger bore news of Princess Noukou's coronation, Duke Beniki strode briskly to the entrance without waiting for attendants. There indeed stood a tall cavalryman holding a magnificent sturdy horse.

When the cavalryman saw Duke Beniki, he stiffened abruptly and saluted. And then, in clear tones— "By Her Majesty the Queen’s command, Duke Beniki is to present himself at the royal palace immediately." he said.

“What? Did Her Majesty Queen Noukou command me to come immediately?” When the cavalryman heard this, he made a strange, bewildered face.

“Yes. Her Majesty the Queen does not go by the name Noukou.” “What?! Wh-... What are you saying?”

The cavalryman, startled by Duke Beniki’s voice and menacing look, trembled violently. As he stood there trembling violently, his large frame over six feet tall shaking uncontrollably and unable to respond, Duke Beniki stomped down the stone steps of the entrance and seized the cavalryman by the collar—

“Wh-What... name is this?!” “Uh… the Sea Queen.” “What sort of person is this?” “She’s... beautiful.” “Fool… I know that already. What does she look like?” “With purple hair flowing down.”

“What?!” “A s-silver sword and... d-diamonds...” “What?!” “Sh-she... was wearing men’s clothing...” “Demon…!” While shouting, Duke Beniki shoved the cavalryman aside and dashed into the inner chambers. Without uttering a single word to the astonished household members, he fastened his sword at his waist, threw on his coat, and donned his hat in one swift motion. Rushing to the stable, he pulled out a horse and leapt onto its back without even placing a saddle—then immediately drove his heels into the horse’s flank with such force it seemed the beast might split open.

The horse, startled and driven mad, bolted out in a single leap—but since it kept circling the same spot without ever reaching the thoroughfare, Duke Beniki grew furious— “Hey! What are you doing?!” he shouted, but when he looked, the horse had somehow charged into the large round riding ground within Duke Beniki’s estate and was now racing about in a frenzy. Duke Beniki gnashed his teeth— “What?!” “You damn beast!” “Go out through the main gate!”

Cursing all the while, he yanked the horse’s reins frantically, leaping over both flower gardens and lawns in a single bound to burst out through the main gate—though by that time, the earlier cavalryman had long since returned to the royal palace. Duke Beniki entered through the palace’s main gate, rode straight to the entrance, and nimbly dismounted from his horse—but his hat had blown off at some point. When he strode purposefully into the familiar inner areas without waiting for attendants, he found the palace corridors—unlike any ordinary day—lined with armored soldiers in every passageway, all carrying drawn spears and swords while staring intently toward the depths, poised to charge forth like rogue warriors. However, Duke Beniki paid them no heed and strode purposefully deeper inside until he reached the king’s chambers—but there was only an empty throne, with neither the king nor the queen in attendance. And then, from the distant maidservants’ room, came the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s unexpectedly flustered voice—

“Your Majesty. Please calm yourself. Calm yourself.”

When he heard this utterance—thinking “Now then!”—he hurried toward the source. However, the moment Duke Beniki reached the entrance to the maidservants’ room and glimpsed inside, every muscle in his body stiffened simultaneously. Standing rigid as a stone statue rooted to the floor, he stared fixedly at the scene within. At the room’s center stood an immaculate whitewood bed frame, above which hung a silk-covered bonbori lantern. Upon the bed lay what appeared to be a corpse shrouded in white cloth, while at each bedpost women resembling palace maids—their hair disheveled and having fainted—remained tightly bound. Beyond the bed sat King Aimaru facing this direction in a chair, arms crossed and eyes closed, while before the bed stood the Blue-Eyed Old Man with hands outstretched. And clinging to those hands as she gazed up at the Blue-Eyed Old Man’s face—when he saw the countenance of this queenly figure, what did he behold? None other than that very Benikō Hime who had turned to ice overnight and until moments ago had been laid before the Stone God.

Even Duke Beniki—who had been convinced it was all demons, demons—now found himself doubting his very existence and his own eyes upon seeing this, frozen so rigidly he could scarcely breathe. He stared at the queen’s figure with eyes wide as saucers. The queen tangled her hair like seaweed, her face deathly pale as she clenched her quivering lips again and again. Without wiping the tears streaming down her face, she stared up at the Blue-Eyed Old Man—then suddenly screamed in a voice like one coughing up blood—

“Dr. Blue-Eye, please tell me—is this a dream? Is it real?” The Blue-Eyed Old Man answered in a calm, resolute voice while staring intently at the Queen’s face: “Whether this is dream or reality depends entirely on Your Majesty’s words. I implore you to tell me everything without concealment.” “I have just received a messenger from His Majesty the King, who informed me that after viewing Princess Noukou’s departed form this morning—though it pains me to say—Your Majesty lost all composure and began uttering most peculiar things beyond reason.” “Therefore, having received His Majesty’s gracious pardon for my past transgressions and command to attend Your Majesty immediately, I came here without delay.” “Yet upon beholding Your Majesty now, I see you suffer no such dreadful affliction.” “What truly astounds me is how Your Majesty could be alive here at all.” “What need have I for concealment? When Your Majesty was still Benikō Hime being admitted yesterday morning, I most certainly killed you.” “That you should be alive here now—this surpasses even my wildest imaginings.” “By all means, there must be profound significance to this.” “I would never dare doubt Your Majesty’s words.” “Now then, Your Majesty—there is no cause for concern.” “After viewing the Stone God’s dream, what transpired? Recount everything in detail.” “The Stone God’s tale is this nation’s secret—since ancient times it has been said that those who hear it become possessed by demons dwelling within the story.”

“I had strictly sealed away that demon until today, but it appears to have somehow escaped and possessed Your Majesty.” “In this case, there remains no need for Your Majesties to keep secrets.” “Rather than keeping secrets, it would be far more advantageous for defeating the demon if Your Majesty were to break that secrecy and recount everything without reserve.” “Here besides Shiawase, His Majesty, and myself, there are none others listening.” “I earnestly ask that you speak without reserve.” “Let us decisively clear away the confusion in Your Majesty’s heart and vanquish the demon for you.”

Even as he spoke，he firmly gripped the Queen’s hand. The Queen，no longer possessing the strength to stand，collapsed onto the floor. And then— “Yes．Please listen．And after thinking it over，please help me．” Even as she spoke，she continued her words while wiping away her tears— “Ever since I saw that dream，I shut myself away in my room day and night，trying to discern whether my past as Princess Mirume was real or my current existence as Benikō was genuine—but I simply couldn’t tell．And while this remained unclear，I felt no motivation to do anything at all，and no matter what anyone said to me，I couldn’t bring myself to act．Beniya… Brother’s injury… Princess Noukou’s fate… all somehow… felt like a dream．”

“Now, on the very day Brother sustained his injury—when I heard the Blue-Eyed Old Man was coming—I peeked through a crack in the door. But the moment I saw his figure passing by, I slammed it shut and fainted right there.” “For the Blue-Eyed Old Man was exactly as I’d feared—the one who’d called me a demon in that dream and tried to kill me. I thought—what if he finds me?—and that’s why I did it.”

Then—how long had I remained unconscious? When I suddenly came to my senses, it was exactly midnight, and I found myself standing inside a cupboard with no sense of how much time had passed. And there before my eyes appeared the bird-shaped carved latticework on the cupboard door.

For some time I stood vacantly staring at the lamplight seeping through the bird-shaped carvings, utterly bewildered. I wondered if my eyes remained unopened in some lingering dream. Steadying my mind, I pressed my face against the carvings and peered through. When I gazed across the chamber by the pale yellow glow of the round glass lamp burning there, I could no longer trust my own vision. Upon my bed lay a woman wearing my nightclothes - hair arranged precisely as I always did mine, spilling over both sides of the mattress as she slept peacefully... With a gasp I clutched at my garments only to discover: "My clothes had somehow transformed into a strange man's attire."

“A woman who looks just like you.” “And then you were wearing men’s clothing…” Dr. Blue-Eye said in a voice like one haunted.

23. Her Sleeping Figure

Outside, Duke Beniki, who stood waiting, clenched both fists as if to shatter them at this moment, but the Queen too—terrified beyond endurance—answered with her body trembling—

“Yes. “It was the same men’s clothing as when I declared myself Queen of the Sea and came for the royal audience yesterday.”

“And then what did you do?” “I was so astonished I couldn’t move a muscle—I kept staring at my own sleeping form. And in that state, I could no longer tell which one was me. Am I Benikō, or is that one over there Benikō? If I am Benikō, then who lies sleeping there? If the sleeper is Benikō, then what am I—this awake self? Could I have been split into two by some magic? There’s no other way such perfect resemblance could exist. Or perhaps my body remains there while my mind lingers here? Then whose body is this? Or has my mind become a ghost that slipped out and manifested elsewhere? Then whose heart beats within me? Which is real? Which is false? Are both real? Are both lies? Are we separate or one? Could this be an ocular illusion? A mental delusion? Or perhaps a dream—a phantom—I grew utterly bewildered, trembling at the thought that sunlight might stream in at any moment and make me vanish.”

Even without that reason—as I wavered with fear that stepping out of the cupboard now might jolt me awake—trembling and standing frozen in place—I suddenly sensed someone approaching outside the window.

At that moment, I somehow felt something dreadful was about to befall me, and in my terror, found myself unable to even exhale. Then, as I stared fixedly at the window from within the cupboard, before long a figure appeared—peering cautiously through the window to observe the room. "That was Dr. Blue-Eye—you." "Ah! So you were watching from inside the cupboard then?" Dr. Blue-Eye inquired, holding his breath.

"But how terrifying that moment was! Now that you had finally realized I was in this house, you must have come to kill me—just as you sliced through that ginkgo leaf bag in our previous dream—still convinced I was a demon." Even so—could you truly believe that Benikō lying in that bed was me? Or did you know I was hiding here? "Whichever one you meant to kill, I watched trembling while holding my breath."

“Alas.” “At that time, I was convinced the woman in the bed was a demon and killed her.” “To protect this country’s secrets.” “For the king.” “For the country.”

Dr. Blue-Eye shouted, forgetting himself.

“Yes. However, that was a grave mistake indeed. The woman you thought a demon and slew was none other than Benikō Hime—I who speak these words am the true demon. From that moment onward, I ceased to be Benikō Hime.” “Eh... Eh... Eh.” “Eh. Eh.”

Dr. Blue-Eye staggered backward unsteadily, then suddenly assumed a defensive stance and stared at the Queen’s face as if to bore holes through it— “Your Majesty, have you truly taken leave of your senses?” “Not at all. I am not mad in the slightest. Nor am I lying. I was indeed the demon. I was indeed a demon who took on the exact appearance of Benikō Hime.” “Hmm...” As Dr. Blue-Eye clenched both hands like stone and stared fixedly at the Queen’s face, Duke Beniki outside the room also involuntarily placed his hand on his sword hilt and assumed a defensive stance. However, the Queen did not panic. Remaining seated calmly on the floor, she looked up at Dr. Blue-Eye’s face and continued speaking—

“It is only natural you would doubt me,” “In truth, my doubts from that time remain unresolved.” “That is why I speak openly now in confession.” “To tell the truth, I would have been happier had your poison turned me to ice that day.” “By surviving against reason, I became a woman possessed by demons.” “When that girl—awakened as a demon—cried ‘I am Benikō! This house’s daughter!’, you poured poison over her before she could finish.” “In that moment, I felt my blood freeze, believing both heart and body would vanish together.” “Yet when I regained consciousness moments later, wonder of wonders—my heart had changed entirely, replaced by that of a woman more terrible than any in this world.” “From then until this morning, I existed not as Benikō Hime but as Mitorumo—daughter of Mitori who dwelled near Lake Tarumi—a woman who, like Benikō Hime, became Princess Mirume in dreams and read the Stone God’s tale on ginkgo leaves with the White-Haired Boy—Mitorumo precisely as she vanished after seeking the mirror in the lake’s depths.” “And with that transformation, I forgot having been Benikō Hime until mere moments ago—when you left her icy corpse and slipped through the window, I emerged from the cupboard.” “Seeing Benikō Hime’s frozen body upon the bed, I smiled faintly despite myself.” “First—with her dead—” All that remained was to defeat Princess Noukou in tomorrow’s royal audience ceremony. If I succeeded, queenship would be mine beyond doubt.

“Dr. Blue-Eye. “I was indeed a terrifying woman. “I was an even more merciless woman than any demon. “When I first became Mirume in a dream and saw an illustration in the book I found under the ginkgo tree showing me as queen, I suddenly burned to claim that throne. “And with that hunger came the desire to know how the Stone God’s tale would unfold. “In truth, even after waking, I could not purge Princess Mirume’s heart—the one I’d worn in dreams—from my own breast. When I awoke to find the Red Parrot croaking prophecies, the Treasure Snake coiled about my wrist, and the Mirror’s gleam piercing Lake Tarumi’s depths, all doubt vanished. The dream was truth itself—and I resolved to carve my flesh into its shape, whatever the cost. “So I cast aside parents and husband alike, setting forth alone to make myself queen.”

“After that, I committed all sorts of wicked deeds to become queen.”

“Dr. Blue-Eye. When Lord Beniya sustained that grave injury recently, the Lord Beniya you first examined was not the true Lord Beniya. I took Lord Beniya’s horse and garments through deception and came disguised as him. Then the second time, I rode Shun to intercept Lord Beniya on his return path. I crashed my horse into his to inflict injuries, after which I carried his body to your gate, abandoned it there, and fled.”

After that, I once again slipped into Duke Beniki’s mansion amidst the commotion and entered Benikō Hime’s chamber. When I looked, Benikō Hime had for some reason fainted and lay collapsed on the floor, with no one noticing. I was delighted at the favorable opportunity and thrust the Treasure Snake—which I had previously hidden in my hair—into Benikō Hime’s bosom. That this would become the beginning of Benikō and Mitorumo blending together into indistinguishable beings as they are now—such a notion never once crossed my mind at that time.

When the Treasure Snake began sucking blood from Benikō Hime's chest, wonder of wonders, I felt the blood in my own body vanish away. Suddenly dizzy and unable to stand, I collapsed onto the floor. At that moment, I thrashed about in a frenzy. And because I thought the Treasure Snake had bitten me and was sucking my blood, I desperately clawed at my chest and thrashed about; then, when the tightness in my chest suddenly subsided, I heaved a sigh of relief. But along with that, when I finally regained my senses and opened my eyes to look around... what do you think I saw? Contrary to when I had previously recounted these events, I found myself changed into the nightclothes Benikō Hime had been wearing until now, lying on the floor while gripping the Treasure Snake tightly in one hand. And lying on her back right beside me—was there not a woman who looked exactly like me but in male form? In my shock, I sprang to my feet without thinking. And then, along with that, a handful of ruby grains clattered from my bosom onto the floor.

At that moment, my state of mind differed not at all from when I had previously spoken as Benikō. Truly, I could no longer discern whether I was Benikō or Mitorumo myself. I could not even tell whom I had meant to kill by making the Treasure Snake drink their blood. Given present circumstances, one could only think I had pressed the Treasure Snake's fangs to my own chest to end my life. Stunned by this strangeness, I stood transfixed, staring at the girl before me—a girl who bore my exact likeness yet took the form of a man.

However, after a while, I was finally able to calm down and think. This must surely be the work of a demon. The reason being, both Benikō Hime and I must have seen the same dream and heard the same demon’s tale—therefore, it is certain that we’ve both been possessed by a demon. And since I was the first to see things like the mirror, the snake, and the parrot, the demon must have sided with me and bestowed wisdom upon me. It must be instructing me to transform into Benikō Hime. When I thought that it must surely be so, all my doubts were completely dispelled. I was Mitorumo after all. In the end, it was Mitorumo who would become the queen of this country. Thinking this, I rejoiced with all my heart as though I had already become queen. Then I immediately searched the bosom of the collapsed Benikō Hime, retrieved the sleeping medicine I had previously hidden away from Dr. Blue-Eye, made her inhale it, and then shoved her into the cupboard. Thus, when the morning of the royal audience ceremony finally arrived, I intended to change clothes, lay the real Benikō Hime on the bed in my place, and make my escape. And during the day, I shut myself in my chamber, doing my utmost not to show myself to the household. Then rising at midnight, I changed into the clothes of Benikō Hime who slept due to the medicine, leapt from the window, and committed wicked deeds.

At that moment, I was deeply impressed by my own cleverness. By doing this, even if discovered by the household at any time, I would only appear as Benikō. But on that final night, I was finally found out by you—Dr. Blue-Eye. At that time I had gone to torment Lord Beniya, but when you—whom I had so painstakingly lured out with song—seemed to be turning back, I tried to hurry to my chamber. Yet in my haste, when I pulled the snake from Lord Beniya's body, he awoke and—upon seeing me—suddenly lunged, seizing the clasp at my chest with his left hand. Even now there must surely remain a single large diamond clutched in Lord Beniya's palm. I tore it free and fled home, then feigned ignorance and lay down to sleep. That was when you discovered it. "When you poured that freezing poison over me, I thought myself beyond saving." "Yet when I fainted and collapsed only to regain consciousness—what do you think? Unbeknownst to me, I found myself standing inside the cupboard wearing men's clothing."

At that time, had even a trace of Benikō’s heart remained within me, I would never have become queen. I would not have had to endure such terrifying, sorrowful experiences. But at that time, I had completely become Mitorumo in heart and mind, so without a shred of doubt or fear, I continued the work exactly as Mitorumo would have done. When I saw that Benikō Hime and Lord Beniya had become two corpses of iron and ice at this time, I felt completely relieved, thinking that with this state of affairs, Duke Beniki and the household members would likely not attend tomorrow's royal audience. If that were so, there would be no one left to find fault with me, so I could become queen without worry. After that, all I needed was to somehow frame you—Blue-Eyed Old Man—for a crime and eliminate you, then forcibly keep Princess Noukou in the royal palace and kill her. Thinking that once this was done I could live in peace forever, I slipped out of Duke Beniki’s mansion. I hurried to the royal palace and made it in time for the royal audience ceremony. After that, as you know, I successfully became queen and made Princess Noukou into a palace maid. “And then... and then…”

As she spoke, the Queen suddenly collapsed onto the floor and burst into loud sobs. Dr. Blue-Eye, who had been standing rigidly on guard until now, saw this and hurriedly knelt down, taking the Queen’s hand to pull her up. And with a trembling voice— “Please do not weep so, Your Majesty. I cannot comprehend...” “And then... and then what did you do?” he peered into the Queen’s face and asked. At this moment, the Queen suddenly staggered to her feet, but immediately threw herself onto the bed and wailed—

“Please forgive me, Sister. "It was not four women who killed you." "It was I." "I am Mitorumo’s Benikō." “Until last night I was Mitorumo—I could not bear my hatred for you and made the Treasure Snake suck your blood.” "And then... and then... this morning... when I saw you buried in rubies... the sorrow and terror of that moment..." Alas! "Am I Mitorumo?" "Am I Benikō?" "Alas!"

“Father.” “Mother.” “Please forgive me.” “I killed Brother... I killed Sister.” “And why... why won’t I die?” “Ah, how horrible!” “Wretched.” “I want to die—I want to die.” “I want to die together with you, Sister.” She clung to the corpse, wailing and screaming as though she would vanish into nothingness.

Seeing this, tears immediately began streaming from Dr. Blue-Eye’s eyes. And then he hurriedly rushed over and, while pulling the Queen away—

“Your Majesty.” “Calm yourself.” “Calm yourself.” “Your Majesty is Benikō Hime herself.” “Now, both your heart and body are Benikō Hime herself.” “The one who brought calamity upon your household… who killed your brother and sister… was the soul of that Mitorumo, now turned to ice, which had possessed you and committed these acts…”

He had been saying this when—before his words could even finish—a thunderous roar erupted as a figure burst into the room, shoving the two apart. That was Duke Beniki. Seeing this, the Queen pulled herself up from where she had staggered and collapsed— “Oh. Father.” While letting out a loud cry and trying to rush forward, she halted instinctively upon seeing Duke Beniki’s fierce demeanor—so terrifying it froze her in place. And then, trembling violently—

“Fa...ther... Fa...ther...”

As she spoke these words, she gradually stepped backward and leaned against one of the walls to support herself. Dr. Blue-Eye too remained sitting on the floor where he had fallen in astonishment at Duke Beniki's fierce demeanor, staring fixedly at the Duke's face. Duke Beniki strode briskly to the bed during this interval and tore away the white cloth. Beneath lay Princess Noukou's corpse - from the hair at her neck down to her chest and toes entirely encrusted with rubies, her waxen form drained of all color as she lay supine.

As Duke Beniki stared fixedly at it, every strand of his hair stood completely on end in an instant. His complexion turned deathly pale, his eyes bloodshot like fire. Grinding his teeth with a grating sound, trembling violently as he gripped the sword hilt hard enough to shatter it, he fixed a piercing glare on the Queen’s face before finally roaring in a voice like spitting flame.

“Demon. “Demon.” “You are not Benikō.” “You are not the Queen.” “Nor are you even someone called Mitorumo or anything else.” “A demon who used Benikō as a decoy to have Dr. Blue-Eye kill her, then killed Beniya, and now has killed this Noukou in an attempt to seize this country’s queenship.” “Demon.” “You’re a great demon.” “Even if you fabricate baseless lies and try to deceive me by impersonating Benikō, this Duke Beniki will not be fooled.” “I’ll have you rip off that disguise.” “Prepare yourself for vengeance for my child!”

The voice swirled through the room like a storm. Then—taking a step back and drawing his sword with a glint—he tried to leap at the Queen, but at that very moment—swift on his part yet too late—Dr.Blue-Eye firmly restrained him from behind. Duke Beniki ground his teeth— “Hrrgh! Let go! Won’t you release me?! Are you too part of this demon?! Have you been conspiring with demons all along?! Let go! Let GO! You wretch!” The Queen rushed toward those writhing hands and clung to them. Then—gazing up at his face—she cried out—

“Kill me.” “Father.” “I... can no longer... endure this torment.” “I cannot... I cannot keep living.” “With this sword... Please, end me swiftly.” “Let me perish together with Sister.” “Dr. Blue-Eye, release him.” “These hands... Please unhand Father—” She desperately seized Dr. Blue-Eye’s hands and tried to wrench them apart. Duke Beniki summoned every ounce of his strength— “Grah!”

With a shout, he flung off both of them at once. And then, when he kicked down both of them to either side—who still tried to cling on—they both lost consciousness at once and lay limp on the floor. At this moment, King Aimaru—who had been sitting in a chair from the very beginning, coldly laughing as he observed the scene—shot upright, but when he raised his right hand high, a snake of terrifying appearance was coiled around it, its jeweled scales glinting dazzlingly as it flicked its crimson tongue in and out. Thus the King proclaimed—

“Duke Beniki. “Look well and listen well. “This snake is the treasure of this nation. “Whoever brings this snake shall become Queen of this land. “Be it Benikō or Mitorumo—I care not for such distinctions. “And it is this snake’s duty to slaughter all who would harm the Queen. “You too shall find no mercy!” “What... What are you—”

Duke Beniki glared at the King with bloodshot eyes and shouted—

“If that’s the case, then you’re also a demon! If he were the true King Aimaru, His Majesty would never possess such a filthy thing! His Majesty would never do such a merciless act! You must also be a demon in disguise! The Queen is also a demon! You’re also a demon! Demon! Demon! You’re the Great Demon! Ah, I didn’t know! I didn’t realize! If I had known that, I would have had someone exterminate you sooner! There will be no more mercy! Let this Duke Beniki face the blade of loyalty!” No sooner had he spoken than he tried to lunge at the King, but the moment the King raised his right hand, the many soldiers who had poured in all at once surrounded the King on one side and on the other encircled Duke Beniki, pressing their spear tips against every inch of his body to render him immobile. Meanwhile, the others picked up the unconscious Queen and Dr. Blue-Eye and hurriedly carried them off to some room.

Surrounded by spear tips, Duke Beniki became unable to move; standing rigid as a pole while grinding his teeth, he glared around at the soldiers' faces—but soon clattered the sword he held onto the floor, then tilted his head back toward the high, dark ceiling, each strand of his hair quivering—

Duke Beniki bellowed maniacally.

Duke Beniki began to laugh loudly. The eeriness. The terror. The surrounding soldiers instinctively pulled back their spears and hesitantly retreated. But Duke Beniki's laughter continued to ring out loudly—

“Ahahahaha!” “Ridiculous, ridiculous!” “Could such absurdity happen again?” “What utter nonsense this is!” “Ahahahaha! I’ve remembered now.” “I remembered my old name.” “My name was Duke Mirurō.” “What—absurd, absurd, absurd!” “Absurd.” “Ahahaha!”

Huh? Mirume was reading a book. The White-Haired Boy was dozing. Ah ha. Ah ha. What is this? I wondered if this story was true. This, Mirume. Stop. Stop. Stop reading that book. Isn't this too cruel? Isn't this too pitiful? How can you read that so calmly? Father can no longer bear to listen. This. Stop. Even as he said "Stop..."

While muttering this, he staggered forward unsteadily, but upon colliding with Princess Noukou's bed, jolted back to awareness. Leaning against the bed, he stared fixedly at Princess Noukou's corpse until gradually his eyes narrowed upward again in their former manner.

"Huh?! So it was true after all. So Princess Noukou was dead? Alright then—in that case, I'll just do this…"

In the midst of saying this, he took off his own coat and wrapped it around Princess Noukou’s corpse, and no sooner had he shouldered it than he dashed out of the room. When he saw this, King Aimaru, blazing with rage, shouted after him— “There! Annihilate everyone in that house! Then set fire to it and burn everything down!”

Twenty-Four: Words of the Severed Heads

Meanwhile, the Blue-Eyed Old Man had completely lost consciousness and become unaware of anything, but when he naturally came to his senses and looked around—what do you think? Earlier, he should have been kicked by Duke Beniki before King Aimaru's eyes and lost consciousness, yet now he found himself in some room within the royal palace, laid upon a splendid bed with the four maidservants—who had been bound earlier—waiting attentively by his side. When he looked around more thoroughly, he found King Aimaru standing by his pillow with a beaming smile, while behind him all the palace officials were lined up like stars and appeared to be bowing toward him. Startled by this sight, the Blue-Eyed Old Man hurriedly slid down from the bed and prostrated himself on the floor, whereupon the king placed his hand on his shoulder and

“Oh, there’s no need to humble yourself so. “I have forgiven all your past transgressions!” Hearing this, the Blue-Eyed Old Man prostrated himself on the floor and said with deference— “Yes. “This is most gracious. “Now that I have received Your Majesty’s gracious words, even were I to die tomorrow, I would have not the slightest regret. “If Your Majesty would deign to understand my heart, how could I dare oppose Your Majesty’s will? “I most humbly beseech that Your Majesty will graciously forgive all my discourteous offenses committed to this day.”

And he said with earnest sincerity. King Aimaru also looked genuinely pleased— “Hmm. Your sins have been completely forgiven by the Queen’s decree, so be at ease. The Queen is now resting in the living room. And she’s crying tears of joy that you’re the only one in the entire world who knows her true self. And as a reward for your loyalty to the Queen today, she has declared she will now make you the Prime Minister of this country.” These were words beyond his wildest imaginings. The Blue-Eyed Old Man, startled by the utterly unexpected gracious words, cried out as though caught in a dream—

“Huh?!” “You’re appointing me as that Prime Minister?” “But... Your Majesty, for someone like me...”

“Silence! Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t defy my words anymore? You insolent fool! Do you too wish to suffer Duke Beniki’s fate?” In an instant, the king’s face reverted to its previous terrifying visage.

“Huh?! And what has become of Duke Beniki?” “Ha ha ha ha ha! Do you wish to see what has become of Duke Beniki? Very well. Then you shall go immediately to Duke Beniki’s house and see what has become of it. And remember well—anyone who dares show disrespect to the Queen, be they parent, sibling, or anyone at all—they shall meet such a fate,” he ordered sternly. When he heard these words, the Blue-Eyed Old Man recalled when the king had shown him the snake and involuntarily shuddered. He immediately left the royal palace alone and hurried to Duke Beniki’s house—but what did he find? The mansion that had once stood facing the palace amidst a dense forest of towering evergreens was now completely charred black, its residence, floors, and standing trees reduced to cinders. From countless burnt wooden stakes arranged in rows, white smoke rose steadily. Near the entrance lay the minister and his wife—their hands and feet severed, their bodies charred beyond recognition—collapsed in a state too dreadful to behold.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man tried to gather those hands and feet with trembling hands, but they were already beyond saving. The minister and his wife’s corpses had been torn apart and charred beyond recognition—no power of his could restore them now. Overcome by the horror before him, the Blue-Eyed Old Man let out a choked sob. Desperately searching through corpses scattered in the darkness—examining each one for any flicker of life—he suddenly brushed against something piercingly cold near the mansion’s center. He recoiled instantly. There lay two corpses—one of iron, one of ice—their ghastly white and black forms illuminated by pallid moonlight. Both seemed to glare accusingly at him.

The Blue-Eyed Old Man involuntarily staggered backward. And then he stared intently at the two corpses. Then, strangely, a head lying right behind the Blue-Eyed Old Man opened its white eyes, gazed at the moonlight, and began to twitch its lips, when suddenly―― “Liar!”

“Liar!” When the Blue-Eyed Old Man gasped in surprise and whirled around, behind him lay only the groom’s corpse he had just examined—its limbs torn asunder—leaving no possibility it could speak. The Blue-Eyed Old Man, thinking it must have been a trick of his ears, was about to leave when a severed head from another corpse—separated from its body and lying on the ground—opened its eyes wide and stared fixedly at his face in the moonlight—

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!” they shouted. The Blue-Eyed Old Man was so shocked his entire body went numb, freezing him in place. Then, all at once, the severed heads of corpses from every direction opened their eyes wide and began to hurl abuse at him from all sides while glaring—

“Traitor!” “You killed Beniya!” “You killed Noukou!” “You killed Benikō!” “You flattered the Queen!” “You had Duke Beniki killed!”

“You stole Duke Beniki’s position!” “You became the Demon King’s servant!” “You even had all of us killed!” “And you alone remain alive!” “You’re serving the demon!” “A traitor cloaked in loyalty!” “A villain masquerading as a good man!” “Cowardly! Shallow!” “Quack of a Blue-Eyed Old Man!” “We were killed because of you!” “Look at the many corpses!” “We shall repay this grudge—” “We’ll definitely pay you back!”

“We’ll show you suffering worse than death!” “If you can stay alive, then stay alive and see!”

“If you can die, then die and see for yourself!”

“You’ll remember this!” “You’ll remember this!”

As they said this, the voices cursing him in unison grew gradually louder, until finally they became so violent it felt like his eardrums would split. The Blue-Eyed Old Man trembled violently throughout his entire body as if buried in ice, grew dizzy enough to nearly collapse, but finally mustered every ounce of courage he had—

“You are all mistaken. “I haven’t killed anyone. “I became Prime Minister to protect this nation’s secrets… to enter the royal palace and expose the demon’s true form… That’s why I took this position. “It wasn’t by my own will. “The King compelled me. “It wasn’t me who subjected Duke Beniki to this torment… nor was it the King…” When he spoke these words, the multitude of Severed Heads chorused as one—

“Then who was it?” they said. The Blue-Eyed Old Man tried to speak but found himself unable to, trembling violently as he scanned his surroundings. Countless severed heads stared intently at him from all sides, poised to leap at any moment. At his very feet lay two kinds of corpses—one of iron, one of ice—both fallen with hands clawing empty air, both glaring up at him. The Blue-Eyed Old Man pointed at the ice corpse— “Th-th-th-this one!”

As he shouted this, all his strength left him at once, and with a groan of “Ugh…,” he collapsed unconscious.

Then, at that very moment, once again, there came suddenly near his ear— “We offer our congratulations to Prime Minister Duke Blue-Eye Your Excellency.”

When he heard this voice, he snapped his eyes open in surprise, only to realize with a start that everything he had seen from earlier was nothing but a dream—he was still lying properly on his old bed as before. And around the bed, just as before, a large number of palace officials were gathered. The moment those officials saw the Blue-Eyed Old Man awakened, they all raised their hands and bowed their heads—

“Prime Minister Duke Blue-Eye Your Excellency. We offer our congratulations,” they said in unison. Seeing this, the Blue-Eyed Old Man was utterly dumbfounded. No matter how much he thought about it, he could not discern where the dream ended and reality began. And then he thought that perhaps his mind had become unsettled from worrying too much about all these various things. However, seeing the officials gathered in such numbers and offering their congratulations one after another, he could not doubt that he had indeed become the Prime Minister of this country, no matter how much he thought about it.

Twenty-Five: The Unstoppable Flower Carriage

Meanwhile, the maddened Duke Beniki, still carrying Princess Noukou’s corpse, dashed through the corridor in one breath and returned straight to his house without even riding a horse. The moment he passed through the gate, he threw Princess Noukou’s corpse—still wrapped in a cloak—into yesterday’s flower carriage that had been placed beside the entrance. Then he went to the stable, led out the famed horse Shun, hitched it to the carriage himself, and suddenly raised his whip—

“Return to the original world!” he shouted while striking its hindquarters hard enough to tear them off. The horse, startled, reared up and dashed out through the front gate. Just then, soldiers from the royal palace who had been pursuing Duke Beniki swarmed into the street all at once and raised a war cry and thunderous roar. The horse, growing ever more panicked, charged into the midst of the many soldiers while pulling the carriage bearing Princess Noukou’s corpse, scattering those fleeing in confusion and trampling them underfoot, then dashed out into the thoroughfare like a gust of wind in the blink of an eye.

“There! “There’s someone riding in that carriage!” “Kill every last one of them!” “Don’t let them escape!” “Leave none alive! Chase them down!” Four or five soldiers shouted, but given that the nation’s finest horse, Shun, had begun running frantically, there was no concern that human legs could catch up. Raising a high cloud of dust and the clatter of hooves, it plunged into the vegetable market at the southern edge of the capital with the force of a bolt from the blue, in a headlong rush. Before the crowds could even react to the chaos, it trampled and kicked over stacked crates of vegetables and fruits lining the thoroughfare, showering the carriage with them like rain or hail, then immediately plunged into the neighboring meat market. There, it yanked down hanging birds and beasts from every hook and raced through, next leaping into the adjacent fabric market to scatter silk and cotton, snagging them on windows, carriage shafts, and every possible surface. In the grain market, it drenched itself in cascades of rice and wheat; in the pottery market, it shattered bowls to pieces; in the flower market, it scattered blossoms underhoof; in the fish market, it flung fish in all directions—and after wreaking havoc everywhere, it finally galloped down the broad thoroughfare leading to the southern lands.

During that time, how many people it trampled and how many goods it destroyed—no one could tell. Even so, Shun’s carriage—now gripped by madness upon madness—refused to stop no matter what. Still raising its legs into the air, it ran on and on with unstoppable momentum that would not cease even in death. Then, just around evening, from the direction Shun’s carriage was racing away, Kachio—his face and body completely wrapped in tattered rags with only his eyes visible—came leading the White-Haired Boy by the hand. Seeing Shun’s carriage approaching with a thunderous noise, he frantically tried to pull the White-Haired Boy aside to safety, but no sooner had he acted than too late—the carriage, rushing forth like a gale, grazed the boy’s back. With the lute he carried snagged on the shaft, it clattered away and vanished in the blink of an eye.