Nukume Dori
by Leareth
Annex II: Grandmother
The heat from the fire thickened the air in the ceremonial hall beyond the point of discomfort, but it was a discomfort Lady Sumeragi was accustomed to. Behind her the ranks of lesser onmyouji murmured their chants in a low steady drone, ceaseless as the roll of ocean surf, and she settled her thoughts within their pattern. It was a familiar ritual, one she had practiced innumerable times in the past until she almost didn't need to think about it. Of course, she always did think about it. One did not become the head of the Sumeragi by being careless, and even though she no longer held that position the dignity of the title still dictated everything she did.
The chanting increased. As if in response the fire crackled, throwing up little flicks of flame that darted towards the high ceiling before winking out. Lady Sumeragi watched them with eyes only a little blurred by age; she had three questions to ask of the fire tonight, and she hoped they would all be answered well. Especially the last question …
Enough, she told herself. It is time to start.
Reaching out, Lady Sumeragi picked up the calligraphy brush that lay on the small table in front of her. Her other hand picked up a light wooden plaque. The first question was simple – a faithful servant of the house had been admitted to hospital with cancer and Lady Sumeragi had promised his family to cast his fortune. Dipping the brush in the ink she wrote the name of the servant on the plaque and as she did so she thought of him, his image, his person, the care and dignity with which he performed his duties. Once done she dropped the plaque in the fire. The plaque caught light almost immediately – the wood was dry and prepared beforehand – and as it began to burn the vision came, flickering like the fires that called it. In her mind she saw the man dressed for burial, with a young child of perhaps six or seven paying respects before the altar. Lady Sumeragi watched the vision calmly, feeling pleased. The child was not born yet, she knew, and she would be able to tell the family that the man would live to see a grandchild.
The plaque turned black, the character written on it disappearing taking the vision with it. Lady Sumeragi let it go – that was the nature of fire divinations, the visions they brought were fast. Still, what she had seen had been enough, and she would send word of her vision to the man and his family as soon as the ceremony finished; it would give them great relief. Many things were whispered about the Sumeragi family but never was it said that they did not take care of their people.
So. One question answered. Now to her own business. Picking up the second plaque Lady Sumeragi wrote on it the name of the Sumeragi family, her technique as elegant as that of a calligraphy master. She thought of the weight of the name, the honour of her family and all that it meant to her personally. The fortune of the Sumeragi was a standard question for the fire – for most divinations, actually – and it had served them well in the past. Certainly it was one reason why the family still endured today. When she finished she set the brush down and threw the plaque into the middle of the fire where it was immediately attacked by the hungry flames. Lady Sumeragi watched it catch alight with detachment, clearing her mind until it was as still as the surface of a lake, waiting for whatever the reading would give her.
The house that I have led and still protect, how does it stand?
The fire gave her an answer. She saw herself walking through the darkened hallways of the Sumeragi house in Kyōto, bare feet gliding swiftly over the wooden floors with the grace of her youth. Doors slid open as she passed them revealing empty rooms that felt stale and lifeless. Lady Sumeragi looked into these sadly; the Sumeragi family had grown smaller over the past few generations, and it didn't look like things were going to change. Suddenly another door opened and through it Lady Sumeragi saw her grandson, a child of five, playing inside with his twin sister, their white robes drinking in the moonlight. Green eyes laughed at each other oblivious to the shadows and darkness of the night. The image lasted only a moment – she tried to hold onto it, she really did – before the vision swept her relentlessly onwards. Resigned she let the vision carry her, passing more empty rooms but paying little heed to them. In all her years as a master onmyouji she had learnt that often in visions it was
not what one saw that was important, but rather, what one felt. The image in this vision was simple enough – she had watched her grandchildren play like that many times when they were younger – but for some reason she felt uneasy. Maybe it was their innocence, maybe it was the shadows around them, she did not know, but the feeling was there. And to think that the future of the Sumeragi rested with them both …
The plaque broke in the fire. The vision disappeared. With a tiny shiver Lady Sumeragi opened her eyes; they were watering under the smoke, and her hair smelt of ash. More discomforts made themselves known – legs aching with the strain of maintaining her kneeling position, skin drying and cracking in the heat – reminding her that she was no longer young, something which the vision only made her feel more acutely. Thankfully there was only one more reading to perform, but it was also the most important. Once more, Lady Sumeragi took up her brush and a wooden plaque. On it, she wrote down the name of her grandson.
Sumeragi Subaru.
Her strokes flowed into each other, quickly, urgently – this was the divination she wanted the most and almost didn't want to ask. She thought of her grandson, his face, his spirit, his power that she so desperately wanted to protect, the love for him she was never sure how to express. When the last stroke was complete Lady Sumeragi did not hesitate; she flung the plaque into the fire, and, trying to calm her pulse, asked her question.
The son of my son, my student, my successor – what does destiny hold for him?
The vision came immediately.
She was standing in darkness, not darkness of night, but rather, of illusion. Before her eyes appeared a tree, majestic in size and years like an old, terrible king, and covered in thousands of tiny pale pink flowers that fell like snow. Horror crept through Lady Sumeragi at the sight of the Sakura, symbol of her family's eternal enemy, but then her attention was arrested by something else. Out of the darkness beside her someone was walking towards the Tree: a young man, not overly tall, with windswept black hair and aged perhaps in his mid-twenties. Despite her dread Lady Sumeragi could not help but stare at him – was this the Sakurazukamori? She had never seen him, or at least she assumed it was a 'him' in this generation. But there was something about the young man that reminded her of someone …
The young man did not see her, walking straight towards the Sakura Tree. As the flowers blew about him, dancing with the flare of his pale coat, finally Lady Sumeragi realised why he looked familiar – this young man reminded her of her long-dead son. With a cry Lady Sumeragi began to run, stretching out to haul the young man back from the Sakura – but then she saw his eyes. They were clear, knowing, and a brilliant shade of emerald green that she could never mistake. Lady Sumeragi felt the blood drain from her face.
"Subaru-san …" she whispered.
Subaru did not see or hear her. Instead, he walked towards the Sakura Tree with his head held high. His steps never faltered.
"Subaru-san!" Lady Sumeragi tried to reach out to him. "Subaru-san!"
Subaru did not look back. As he drew closer the Tree seemed to welcome him, bowing its branches and letting fall thousands of tiny pale pink flowers that hid him from sight. Desperately Lady Sumeragi tried to summon a spell to scatter the flowers, forgetting that this was only a vision, that it wasn't really happening, that it was only the future—
"Subaru-san!"
The vision ended. Lady Sumeragi opened her eyes, her grandson's name dying in her throat. In the fire the plaque on which she had written Subaru's name had been reduced to a blackened, shapeless lump. For a long minute she stared at it, the images from the vision seared into her mind and overlaying memory – herself, still old but not so old as she was now, running towards the tiny boy-child that stood gazing at the beautiful tree as if hypnotised … and all the time her heart sobbed the litany it had repeated for years, if only, if only I had never left him alone, if only—
The heat was drying her tears. Taking a deep breath Lady Sumeragi calmed herself; such a display was unworthy of her. The moment she was settled she stood up – her assistants moved to help her but she waved them off, glad for the thick ceremonial clothes that hid her aching legs – and walked with urgent steps towards the doors of the hall which were immediately opened for her. Outside, the autumn night was cool and peaceful, but Lady Sumeragi barely noticed. The dread of what she had seen for Subaru was twisting in her heart, and it crystallised into one sharp thought.
She had to go to Tokyo.
Chapter Nine Chapter Ten