Oni Komachi
The fields
of springtime. Meadows and hillsides were a haze of green as if covered in
mist. New green buds appeared on the tips of all the trees, and the freshly
sprouted grasses in the meadows seemed to be sighing out the gentle green that
covered them.
On either
side of the path yellow day lilies grew, and speedwell dotted the ground with
its little blue flowers. In places one or two plum trees still kept their
flowers, but most of the cherry trees were coming into full bloom.
"What a
beautiful scene this is, Seimei," Hiromasa remarked, entranced.
"Not bad," Seimei
responded, continuing to stroll along by his side.
They were climbing a gentle
mountain path. Above their heads the branches of oaks and zelkova overlapped,
and with the sun's aid cast a lovely pattern on Seimei's white hunting costume.
A little while ago they'd alighted from the ox-carriage and left it behind,
along with their retainers and companions. Tomorrow they'd arranged for the
carriage to come to meet them at the same hour. The path had already become
impossible for a carriage to traverse.
"Look, Seimei, you're not
being honest."
"What do you mean?"
"I was just saying how
beautiful the scenery is and you said 'not bad,' looking like you couldn't care
less."
"I look the way I always
do."
"Then you always look like
you couldn't care less."
"Mh."
"If you see something nice,
you should say that it's nice. If it's beautiful, say it's beautiful. Letting
your face show what's in your heart--"
Hiromasa suddenly shut his mouth.
"What about it?"
"It's not as
exhausting," Hiromasa said grudgingly.
Seimei smiled.
"Why are you smiling?"
"You're nice enough to be
concerned about me?"
"Uhh-- mhh"
"You tell me to show what I
feel, so I smile, and then you ask why I'm smiling. What am I supposed to do,
Hiromasa?"
Needless to say this wasn't a
quarrel, or even a disagreement. The two friends were just bandying words
together for amusement.
"In any case, shouldn't we be
arriving soon?" Seimei asked, and Hiromasa answered, "Just a bit
farther." Their destination was a temple called Shikou'in. It was a small
temple built to honour a wooden statue of Kanzeon Bosatsu three feet high, and
a priest called Nyosui was its only inhabitant.
It was two days earlier that
Nyosui had come to Seimei's residence in company with Hiromasa, who introduced
him thus: "This gentleman is Nyosui Houshi, to whom I became greatly
indebted in times past. He now lives alone at a temple called Shikou'in in a
mountain village in Yase. It appears that something is causing him great
distress, and when I asked him about it, it seemed to me that it was your
territory, Seimei. So I've brought him here with me today and I hope you will
be so kind as to listen to his story."
The tale that Seimei heard from
Nyosui was this:
Nyosui had gone to live at the
Shikou'in two years ago. The temple was originally attached to the Shingon sect
of Buddhism and had once possessed a priest who could at least read the
scriptures. But when the man had died there was no one to replace him. The temple
had been practically falling into ruin when Nyosui took it over two years
previously.
Nyosui himself had originally been
a musician at court, a flute player, but at one point he became involved in an
illicit relationship with a court lady of high rank. But she was married, and
when the affair came to light, Nyosui was driven from the palace. He ended up
at the temple of an acquaintance who was a Shingon priest, and there, by taking
part in the ceremonies, he learned the sutras and became more or less able to
act the part of a priest. He was thus given ordination even if in name only. At
that time he learned of the ruined temple in Yase and took the decision to move
into it.
And so, after effecting some
repairs to the main hall and other parts of the building, he spent his days in
reciting the sutras. But just when the place began to look like a proper
temple, an odd thing happened.
Every afternoon an elegant old lady took to appearing, from where
he couldn't say. She would place an offering of flowers and nuts or the twigs
of a tree before the main hall and then go away. Sometimes he saw her making
the offering, but often when he wasn't looking the fruits and twigs would
suddenly appear under the eaves of the temple as token that she had been there.
This continued on a daily basis. If he saw her and greeted her, she would
return the salutation, but he had never spoken to her particularly.
He felt an interest in knowing the
reason for this odd behaviour, but thinking there might be some deep meaning in
it that she could not tell people he dared not inquire: and so two years went
by.
But about this time Nyosui found
he was becoming obsessed with the old woman. He couldn't guess her status, but
it was no ordinary person who would come all alone without any companion, day
after day without fail in both rain and snow, to a small temple like his. Or
again, perhaps she wasn't human at all but some sort of demon.
Whatever she was, even though he
was a priest he found his blood growing warm at the thought of her. In the end
he could no longer stand it and at one point he addressed the old lady:
"Excuse me, Madam. I'm truly grateful that you come every day to the
temple to offer flowers and branches, but- and forgive me the question- may I
ask who you might happen to be?"
At this the old lady reverently
bowed her head and said, "Ahh, you have at last been kind enough to
address me. I am a woman who lives to the west of here on Ichiwara Moor. I have
a reason for coming here every day in my present fashion but I feared that perhaps
I was being a bother to you. I was just thinking that perhaps some day you
might address me to ask about this very matter, and lo! today you have indeed
spoken to me." Her tone of voice and her gestures alike had a refined
softness of manner.
"I assure you it's no bother
at all. But- and I know it's very rude of me to ask- won't you tell me why you
come here every day like this?"
"Listen to me well and I will
reveal everything to you. I too have a request I would make of yourself,
reverend priest. May I ask you to come to my retreat on Ichiwara Moor tomorrow
at this very hour?" and she gave Nyosui precise instructions as to how to
find her house on Ichiwara Moor. "In that place there are two old cherry
trees of great size, and my house is built between them."
"I will come without
fail," Nyosui promised. The old lady repeated with particular emphasis,
"Without fail" and went her way.
The next day Nyosui went to the
appointed place at the appointed time. There indeed he found two large and
ancient cherry trees growing, and as he had been told, a small hermitage that
joined one tree to the other. Above it spread the branches of the trees, now
half covered in blossoms.
"Excuse me," Nyosui
called, and the old lady came out from the hermitage as if expecting him. Her
face was lightly made up.
"I'm so glad you came."
She took Nyosui's hand to pull him inside the house. This action, and the
coquettish flirtatiousness that accompanied it, was not the gesture of a woman
of years. Her breath too was perfumed. Without thinking he stepped into the
cottage. It was small but very neat. The bed was laid out in a corner and she
had sake warmed and ready for him.
"Come, come, this way--"
she said, urging him in by tugging at his hand. Nyosui resisted, saying
"What are you doing?" At this the woman gave an oily smile.
"Surely you don't intend to run away after you've come so far?" and
still holding on to his hand, she gave him a frightening look. Her grip was so
strong he couldn't get free.
"I suppose you have a
distaste for me because I'm old. But look, suppose I do this--" As
she spoke the wrinkles vanished from the face she turned to him even as he
watched, and it changed into the countenance of a beautiful young woman.
"Now how am I?" The woman regarded Nyosui with a small smile.
Nyosui realized she was indeed a
demon. With all his strength he tried to wrench his hand away. In response the
grip on his hand increased in power, passing any strength a woman could
possess.
She glared at Nyosui and said, in
a voice that was suddenly that of a man, "Don't want to?"
Nyosui fell backwards but the
woman took another step forward.
"He doesn't want you. He says
he doesn't want you. This stinking monk doesn't want you. He was itchy enough
when he saw you coming to his temple but now he's here, where's all that
randiness got to---" The man's voice came seeping out from the woman's red
lips.
"Why don't you want to?"
This time it was a woman's voice. "Listen, please listen. Don't go. Don't
go away." It was still the woman's voice.
As if to mock that voice, the
man's loud laughter came dripping from the same red lips. "Hahahaha!"
This too was certainly a monster.
Nyosui was terrified and began to
chant the Heart Sutra under his breath. "Kanjizai bosagyo hannya
haramitaji..." (Avalokita Bodhisattva practises deep perfection of
wisdom.) As soon as he did this the woman's expression grew dangerous.
"Ahh-" The hand that
gripped his was losing strength. Hastily he shook free of it and took to his
heels. But that evening a soft tapping came at the door of the hermitage where
he lay sleeping. He opened his eyes and called, "Who's there?"
"It's the woman from Ichiwara
Moor. Open for me, please," the woman's voice said.
"It's that female demon come
to possess me and kill me!" Terrified, Nyosui drew the covers over his
head and began to recite the sutras with all his might.
Next it was the man's voice that
sounded outside the house. "Nyosui-dono, open the door!"
"Nyosui-dono!"
"Nyosui-dono!"
"Ohh-"
"Nyosui-dono!"
The woman's voice and the man's
continued for a while calling his name, and at last ceased. Even when he no
longer heard those voices Nyosui, more dead than alive, continued chanting the
sutras until dawn.
This continued for two more
nights. In the daytime the old woman no longer appeared at the temple, but at
night the woman's voice came knocking at the door. And so, he said, when he
could no longer stand it he'd gone to see Hiromasa and ask him for advice.
"There it is, Seimei."
Hiromasa stopped abruptly and
pointed ahead. The roof of a temple was in view, hidden among the zelkovas.
2
Round straw
mats had been laid out on the wooden floor of the outer chamber, and Seimei,
Hiromasa and Nyosui sat on them facing each other. In the sanctuary the statue
of Kanzeon stood enshrined, looking down at Seimei and the rest with a gentle
expression.
"I
suppose she came last night as well?" Hiromasa asked.
"Yes,"
Nyosui nodded.
As always,
he'd heard two voices, a man and a woman's alternating; and while he'd recited
the sutra they'd suddenly disappeared.
"What
did you do with the fruit and twigs the woman used to bring?"
"When a
bunch had accumulated I used to burn them all together, but I still have the
bits that didn't burn."
"May I
see them?"
"Certainly."
Nyosui got
up and went out, and soon came back carrying some tree branches that he laid on
the floor.
"Ahh-"
Seimei picked up a branch. "This is a persimmon, yes?" he murmured.
"And this is the acorn from a yellow oak." One by one Seimei picked
up the things laid out on the floor. A chestnut. The branch of an orange tree.
"That
orange tree branch used to have blossoms on it," Nyosui said.
"Hmm."
Seimei cocked his head in thought. "It's a really difficult puzzle."
"Puzzle?"
"Um-hmh.
I feel I almost understand it but not quite. A little longer and I think I'll
have it."
"You
know, Seimei, this is exactly like when I look at a poem I've received and
manage to work out its meaning."
A spark
kindled in Seimei's eye as Hiromasa spoke. "Hiromasa, what did you just
say?"
"I said
it's like when I manage to understand a poem."
"A
poem!"
"Yes, a
poem. What of it?"
"Brilliant,
Hiromasa!" Seimei cried. "Of course, a poem--" Seimei went on,
with the expression of one who's succeeded in swallowing something caught in
his throat.
"What?"
"It's
obvious. It's a poem. Of course--" Seimei nodded to himself.
"Seimei,
I don't understand a word you're saying. Could you explain in simple
language?"
"Wait-"
Seimei said, with no indication as to whether he'd heard Hiromasa or not.
"Nyosui Houshi, could I ask you for paper and inkstone, and ink and a
brush?"
"Certainly."
Nyosui was as much at sea as Hiromasa. Looking dubious, he laid the required
objects out before Seimei. Seimei ground the ink with a cheerful expression,
saying as he did so, "You know, Hiromasa, you have a rare talent. Maybe
you were born into this world in possession of something that men like myself
will never have."
"Talent?"
"Indeed.
That talent which is Hiromasa, or that magic, is one that the magic which is
Seimei can never equal. If the Hiromasa magic didn't exist, the Seimei magic
doubtless wouldn't exist either, just in the course of nature." Seimei
sounded quite cheerful.
"Look,
Seimei, I'm happy that you'd say so, but really- I still don't understand
anything."
"Well,
wait a moment..." Seimei laid aside the ink and picked up the brush beside
it. He picked up the paper in his left hand and expertly ran his brush down it
while Hiromasa and Nyosui watched in deep interest.
"There-
done." Seimei put the brush down and laid the paper on the floor. Written
blackly thereon, in ink that was still wet, was the following:
If you of
the fourth rank are above this poor poet
Still I will
recall the scent of the orange blossoms
"Well,
it's something like this, in any case," Seimei said.
"Oi. I
don't get it, Seimei. What *is* this?"
"You
don't know?"
"I
don't understand either," Nyosui said.
"I
myself don't understand it completely. But if we know this much, it will serve
as a clue to the next part."
"Ohh-- listen,
Seimei. I don't understand a thing. You've got this bad habit of
grudging explanation. Could you please tell us without acting all mysterious
and superior?"
"I
already told you, Hiromasa- *I* don't completely understand it myself. So just
wait."
"Wait?"
"Well,
it'll be tonight, I think."
"What'll
be tonight?"
"That
woman will come again. And when she does we'll be able to ask her
directly."
"Oi,
Seimei--!!!"
"Just
wait a bit." Seimei looked from Hiromasa to Nyosui. "Nyosui Houshi,
you wouldn't possibly have some sake hidden somewhere about here? I was
thinking Hiromasa and I might drink together until this woman shows up."
"Well,
I'm not saying I don't..."
"Oh,
good. Why don't we spend this evening talking over the wine and admiring the
cherry blossoms as a side dish."
"Hey,
Seimei-!"
"We've
already decided, Hiromasa."
"Hey!"
"We'll
drink."
"But--"
"We'll
drink."
"Ah-
umm-"
"We'll
drink."
"Mh."
And so they
did.
3.
While he was
drinking with Hiromasa, it came on full night. Naturally they didn't drink in
the temple itself, but in a small house built at the side that could be
mistaken for a hermitage, which Nyosui used as his sleeping quarters. There was
an oven in the unfloored part, that they used to warm the sake. They themselves
sat in the wooden-floored portion, their round straw mats laid out to surround
the fireplace. The door of this floored room led directly into the temple.
"I keep
this wine for visitors," Nyosui said. He didn't partake himself, but
Seimei and Hiromasa certainly did. However much he drank Hiromasa still
resented the fact that Seimei wouldn't tell him the secret of the poem. Instead
of the usual finger food, Hiromasa had the twigs and fruits laid out before
him. He picked them up and put them down on the floor, staring at the poem Seimei
had written, while taking sips from his cup.
"I just
don't get it..." he muttered, and drank some more.
A small
breeze had come up and whistled a little in the darkness outside.
"Pretty
soon, I think," Seimei said, looking up at the dark roof. As the fire
wavered the ceiling too flickered in red. Their shadows stretched up the wooden
walls almost to ceiling height.
"Seimei-
I think I do understand the poem," Hiromasa said suddenly.
"What?"
"I have
the feeling that this person who visits at night, is a very lonely old
woman."
"Mhh."
"I
mean, living at that age in a countrified place like this, all by
herself."
"Mh."
"With
some kind of purpose, she comes every day to this Kanzeon shrine to offer her
fruits and flowers, yes?"
""Mh."
"And so
when Nyosui Houshi addressed her for the first time, what she heard in his
voice was 'Oh lovely lady, what is your name?'"
"Mh-hm."
"So she
must have tried to get Nyosui-dono to come meet her at her cottage so that he'd
learn more about her. And then when he ran away, in her misery she came to his
house every night."
"Ahhh."
"And I
think she comes only at night basically because she's not human but a demon of
some sort or something like that. But I think that makes her all the more to be
pitied."
"Mmh."
"That's
the impression I got when I was trying to understand that poem and looking at
those twigs and fruit."
"Hiromasa,"
Seimei said, "I think it likely that you've understood the heart of this
poem better than someone like myself can do." He spoke with a surprising
seriousness.
The wind was
growing stronger. And then they became aware of someone tapping lightly on the
door.
"Hello,
Houshi-sama, hello...?"
A woman's
voice, thin and seeming about to fade away, but carrying clearly to them.
"Please
open the door. It's the woman from Ichiwara Moor..."
Seimei stood
up, signalling to Nyosui with his eyes as if telling him not to be concerned.
He stepped down onto the unfloored portion of the room, approached the door and
stood in front of it.
"Hello,
Houshi-sama...?" As the voice came Seimei loosed the prop that barred the
door and pulled it sideways open.
Someone was
standing there. At her back the wind roared into the cottage, along with
innumerable cherry petals. Seimei's hair blew back in the blast, and the
candle's flame wavered as if about to go out.
The woman
was beautiful. As Seimei watched, both her eyes slanted upwards. The corners
were cut open and blood welled from them like tears, trickling down her face in
a thin line. In each corner of her forehead horns started to swell and break
through the flesh.
"Damn
you, Nyosui. Were you plotting to have this onmyouji exorcise me--" the
woman screamed, but Seimei stepped in front of her.
"Read
this," and he gave her the paper with the poem on it. She took it and ran
her eye over it.
"Ohh..."
she said. The horns began to shrink and vanish from her forehead, and her eyes
returned to normal.
"This
is... oh, it's my... hey, that's my-
it's my-- ohh ohh, what does this mean? There's someone- somebody
got it- someone who understands..." A woman's voice and a man's came from
those red lips, alternating in an eerie fashion. Still holding the paper and
moaning to herself, the woman started to twist madly amid the storm of cherry
blossoms; and then in a blink she was gone. Right after the wind began to blow
violently from the place where the two of them had been standing. The blossoms
whirled rushing into the air and drove inside the cottage
4.
"It's
like this, Hiromasa."
Seimei was
drinking wine and, at Hiromasa's prodding, about to explain the meaning of the
poem.
"The
persimmon (kaki) refers to Kakinomoto no Hitomaru-dono. The chestnut is Yamabe
no Akahito."
"What??!"
"Everyone
knows that the surname Kakinomoto (source of the persimmon) comes from the persimmon
tree that grew at the front gate of Hitomaru-dono's residence. And the story of
the chestnut that grew by Akahito's grave is also well-known. When I realized
that these two objects were words referring to Kakinomoto no Hitomaru-dono and
Yamabe no Akahito-dono respectively, I grasped that there must be some
connection to poetry."
"And
the acorn?"
"The
'nut' from a 'yellow oak'. (Nut is ko no mi, a pun on kono mi, 'this person.'
Yellow oak is shii, a pun on shi i, fourth court rank.) The acorn was saying
'the rank above mine is the fourth.'"
"I
see."
"Based
on this, it was natural to conclude that the orange tree must have some
connection to poetry as well. 'A poem about an orange tree', well, there's one
you think of immediately:
When I smell the orange blossoms that wait until May
I remember the scent of the sleeves of someone I once
knew,"
Seimei recited in a well-trained voice. "So I used that
as a basis for the last line of my own poem, but in fact any poem that
mentioned the orange tree would have done as well."
"Mhh."
"Taking
Kakinomoto no Hitomaru-dono and Yamabe no Akahito-dono together to mean 'a
poet' I composed that poem."
"And
the poem's meaning?"
"Ah,
that," Seimei murmured, and began to explain.
"We
usually use 'poet' to refer to one person, but on occasion it means 'everyone
who composes poetry.' So here we have: 'I am a poet in possession of two
natures." At the very start the poet is making the facts of her existence
clear. Next, she talks about someone of the fourth rank, meaning a rank higher
than her own. That would probably be a man's status. Then at the last the woman
speaks of the feelings she has entrusted to the orange blossoms. So it must be
an old lover--"
"What
is this? Seimei, how did you figure out such a complicated thing from a few
twigs and acorns?" Hiromasa said, sounding less admiring than, by this
time, utterly confounded.
"Well,
but, all of this is thanks to you who gave me that terribly important clue, the
word 'poem.' If you hadn't been there I doubtless couldn't have understood
those nuts and branches..."
"Seimei,
do you always have such complicated ideas every time you look at
something?"
"Nothing
complicated about it."
"Don't
you get tired?"
"I do
indeed," Seimei agreed, laughing. "Shall we go tomorrow,
Hiromasa?"
"Go?
Where?"
"To
that woman's cottage on Ichiwara Moor."
"Why?"
"Given
what she said, there are a few things I need to ask her."
"Like
what?"
"Well,
like why she used to bring nuts and twigs to this temple every day, and what
her name is, and how two souls became one the way we saw- things like
that."
"Oh."
"The
fact is that I don't understand any of that yet myself."
"That
makes me feel better- that there are things you don't understand."
Seimei
turned to Nyosui and said, "Tomorrow will you take us there?"
5
"There
it is." Nyosui pointed up ahead, and Hiromasa at his side said without
thinking, "Ohh--" The huge old cherry trees were indeed splendid. All
the blossoms were out on both trees, filling their sight. The branches seemed
to bend down under the weight of the close-packed flowers. There was no wind
but the petals dropped and fluttered from the branches without pause. The clear
air seemed to be concentrated in that space under the trees, where a small
cottage stood.
As the three
of them walked slowly closer to it, an old woman came lightly from inside. The
hem of her gorgeous silken robe dragged gently along the ground.
The three men stopped.
The old
woman stopped.
Seimei took
two steps forward and paused. As if to greet him, the woman sank to the ground
and sat back on her heels. Her face was made up- white powder on her cheeks,
red colour on her lips. Under the cherry tree Seimei and the woman faced each
other.
"Your
name is Abe no Seimei-sama, I think?" The woman spoke softly.
"And
what is your own?"
"A
hundred years and more ago, in the collection called Konjaku Wakinshuu, there
was a poem that goes:
The flowers withered
Their colour faded away
While meaninglessly I spent my days in the world
And the long rains were falling.
That poem was written by myself."
"Which is as much as to say--"
"I am that girl called Ono no Komachi, who is this old woman of a
hundred years."
"And why do you dwell in a place like this, Komachi-dono?"
"This is the place under the cherry trees where Komachi died at the
age of a hundred."
"Is there a reason why your soul has lingered on in this world?"
"I am not one who can reach salvation."
"And why not?"
"Ah, you may laugh at what truly sinful and contemptible wretches we
women are..." The old woman Komachi rose slowly to her feet.
The former Buddha has passed away
The later Buddha has not appeared in the world.
We are born into the middle of a dream
What should we think of as real?
She sang in a low voice, and as she sang she lifted her forearm and began
to dance. Cherry blossoms fluttered and fell on her hands.
My body is a floating weed. No stream invites it-
My body- no stream invites this floating weed
And therefore I grieve.
"My body is like weeds that float and drift on the water. Ahh, in days
gone by my hair was brilliant as a kingfisher's plumage and waved like the
tendrils of a willow in the wind. My voice was like a nightingale's song--
far rarer than the flowers of the
slender bush clover
soaked with dew, that scatter at a
whisper;
Ahh, once I was proud and arrogant, and for that reason all the more
beautiful, and pierced the hearts of noble lords--"
As the old woman danced the wrinkles left her face and it changed to that
of a lovely young woman. Her back straightened, her hips lengthened: and from
far above the cherry blossoms danced and showered down upon her.
"I laid my skin against that of noble men, made poems of love and
passed the days in pleasure, but that was but for a moment--" Komachi's
movements stopped.
"Ah, the clouds have changed their shape: men's hearts are like
butterflies' wings that dance in the breeze- oh that time, that time now past-
they change their affections one after another; but why is beauty alone able to
stand still? As my years piled up all beauty fled from my face, and when beauty
disappeared so too men passed from me. Ahh, there's nothing sadder for a woman
than to have no one to seek her out..."
Komachi's face slowly changed back to that of an old woman. Above that
face, above the white hair, the cherry blossoms fell unendingly.
"When you live long enough, suddenly before you know it, even the low
women of the world look down on you as something disgusting, and your shame is
seen by men who laugh and say 'Is that the famous Komachi?' As days and months
go by the years pile up and you become an old woman of a hundred years, and die
in this place- and that was what happened to me."
Seimei said nothing.
"Just once, just once again, I want someone to cry 'How beautiful'- I
want them to say 'How like Komachi!' in all seriousness; even if it's the dream
of a night only I want to press my skin like a mad thing against that of a man-
and these desires are what keep me from Buddhahood."
Having said this much Komachi's face became fierce and turned up to the
sky. A man's voice gave a bellow of laughter: Kukakakakaa!
"Ohh, ohh, ohh, Komachi! Komachi! Komachi! My beloved lady Komachi,
what are you saying? What foolishness is this? Aren't I here now? *I* seek you.
I'll kiss those withered breasts of yours!"
Komachi shook her head sideways, right, left, so that her hair swung in
either direction and struck her in the face.
"*I'll* seek you out, for a hundred years, a thousand, ten thousand,
dying and being reborn again, and even after all that, I'll tell you that your
wrinkled face is beautiful. I'll kiss your mouth that shows only three yellowed
teeth inside it. I won't let you go. I won't let you go."
As the man's voice issued from her mouth, Komachi clicked her few teeth
together with a clacking noise.
"Who are you?" Seimei asked, and Komachi answered, still in a
man's voice, "You don't know? I'm that man who waited at Komachi's door
for ninety-nine nights and died of love on the hundredth, the one called the
Fukakusa Captain-"
"Ninety-nine nights?"
"You haven't heard of that?"
"Mh, well-"
"I fell in love with this Komachi here and sent her a letter. I sent
her more letters than I can count but never received more than a single reply.
Many men loved Komachi but no man was more deeply in love with her than this
Fukakusa, captain of the fourth rank."
Seimei was silent.
"She answered only once, in jest, with the Hundred Nights Passage. She
said that if I came to her house every night in succession, no matter what, on
the hundredth night she would give me my desire. That was the Hundred Nights
Passage. But though I came for ninety-nine nights on the hundredth I failed to
come, for I was dead. The vexation and regret of that keeps me bound to Komachi
and prevents me from achieving Buddhahood."
"Because this man possesses me, I cannot find a quiet place to
live--"
"Ohh, and thus I became a hound of evil passions and possessed this
woman, swearing I would not leave her even if I was beaten out."
"How contemptible I must seem-"
As the man's voice and the woman's issued slowly in turn from her mouth,
Komachi began to dance again
Then I'll become a hound of passion
That you can beat but never drive away
Oh what a terrifying sight!
She was mad. In the old woamn's face, in Komachi's face, there was no sign
of sanity left. As she raved, she danced. The branches of the huge cherry trees
trembled and blossoms fell in drifts: and in the midst of them, Komachi danced.
"Seimei-" Hiromasa said, but Seimei was silent.
"I was possessed by this woman, so I possessed her in turn and killed
her. After all that how could I ever leave her--"
"Liar."
"What?"
"Who was it promised me, if I
took those nuts and twigs every day to the temple and someone appeared who
could read their riddle, that he would let me go?"
"I did."
"Then why won't you?"
"How could I? Even when you fell
in love with that priest. Who would part from this low-born woman? I'll show
you how thoroughly in love with you I am. A thousand years, ten thousand years,
until the very end of time. Listen, Komachi- though this land changes, and your
beauty changes, my feelings alone will not. Ahh, I love you with all my heart,
you low-born woman--"
"Damn it!"
"Kukakaka--"
"Damn
it!" Tears were pouring from the old woman's eyes, but it was impossible
to tell whose tears they were.
Above
her head the great branches groaned.
Komachi
danced amid a fierce and whirling snowstorm of cherry petals, and as she danced
she wept. With a small sound twisted horns appeared on her forehead, splitting
the flesh.
"Hohohoho--"
"Kukakaka--"
The
laughter of the two arose from within the petal storm, and the trees groaned
deeply.
"Seimei!"
Hiromasa cried, tears running from his eyes. "What's the matter? Why don't
you do something?"
Seimei
remained silent, while the demon danced among the cherry petals, laughing
insanely.
"Seimei!"
Hiromasa's cry was almost a scream. "Why?? Surely you can do
something for them?"
Seimei
shook his head in silence, still watching the dancing demon. "I can't do
anything."
"You
can't!?"
"I
can't save them," Seimei said. "It's not just me. No one can save
them."
"Why
not?"
"Because
they can't be saved, Hiromasa..." There seemed to be a deep tenderness in
Seimei's voice.
"Seimei,
I..."
"I'm
sorry, Hiromasa. There are things even I can't do," Seimei said, as if
biting a blue flame between his teeth.
Amid
the whirling cherry blossoms there was nothing to be seen. Only the sense of a
demon, dancing.
'And
so I have spent my heart again and again in bed after bed'
(Kayoi
Komachi)
'I
love her, oh, I love her!
I love
her, oh I love her!
(Sotoba
Komachi)