Chapter 26: Volume 2 - CH 3.2

Two, three days after their meeting at Seiu Temple, Koushun visited Yamei Palace.

“I have something to show you,” he said, with his usual impassiveness. He motioned to Ei Sei behind him to bring the box. It was a small, flat, white wooden box.

Koushun opened the lid. There was a dirty piece of cloth inside. Jusetsu frowned.

“This was obtained by an acquaintance of Meiin’s—do you remember Meiin? I believe you have met him once.”

“He is a man of about forty who looks like his head is full of knowledge from all kinds of books.”

“…Come to think of it, he does look like that.”

And then? She prompted him, and Koushun unfolded the cloth. It was a cloth with a man’s face on it. The face of a man with a beard. There were holes cut out for the eyes.

“Is it a mask?”

“It’s a cloth mask. It’s used by musicians. Have you seen one before?”

“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never actually seen one.”

“They are mainly used for ceremonies and large banquets. ――There are holes for the eyes. When you look through them, you can see a man.”

“Have you seen him?”

“I have.”

Jusetsu couldn’t tell whether he was bold or careless. Did he not find it scary? Jusetsu picked up the cloth mask and put it on her face. A musty smell peculiar to old cloth hit her nose. The cloth hung all the way down to Jusetsu’s chest, but for a grown man it would be down to his throat. A string was attached to the top of the cloth, allowing one to tie it behind one’s head and fix it in place.

Jusetsu looked out of the eye holes. Normally, she should have been able to see Koushun, but she could only see a man’s back in the middle of something that seemed to be a white haze. He was wearing dull greenish-gray robes and was hanging his head.

The musty smell made her nose itch, and she sneezed. She placed the mask face up on the table. Rubbing her nose, she said, “Did this man work for the court?”

She asked that because the man was wearing greenish-gray robes. Commoners were limited in the colors of clothing they could wear. The basic rule was to leave them white without dyeing them. Dyeing in shades such as green-gray was permitted only for those with official ranks. She believed that the color of one’s clothing was also determined narrowly according to rank and position, but Jusetsu didn’t know that much about it.

“He is wearing the color of the Ibis Workshop.”

Ibis Workshop—that was where court entertainers and musicians lived.

“So this man was a musician who worked there. Thinking about it simply, this mask must have been used by the man who currently possesses it.”

She murmured, then stopped herself abruptly. She glared at Koushun.

“Why did you bring this to me? What are you trying to show me?”

“I thought you might be interested.”

“Well, I’m not, you fool.”

“Is that so?” Koushun seemed perplexed. It was hard to tell, though. “You’re hard to please.” Behind him, Ei Sei was giving her a terrible look. While she was used to that and didn’t think anything of it, Koushun’s deep earnestness made her feel irritated and awkward.

“…There are plenty of ghosts in the inner palace. I have no wish to have anything to do with those who died—those who have suffered.”

“Oh, I see,” When she explained herself a little, Koushun nodded in understanding. “That…makes a lot of sense. I apologize.”

He said, much to his credit, and was about to put the cloth mask away. Jusetsu grabbed his hands and stopped him.

“I won’t be able to sleep well at night if you show me something and then take it back, now would I?”

Koushun looked between Jusetsu’s face and hands and said, “I see,” and pulled away his hands. Jusetsu also hastily withdrew her hands. ——This wasn’t anything special just because she touched Koushun’s hands. This wasn’t the first time either. And yet, she was still strangely flustered.

“What do you know about this mask? Do you know that man?”

“I don’t know who he is. But Meiin’s friend tried the mask on at a banquet. Then, the man who had his back to him turned around.”

“Turned around?”

“Yes.”

――Why did he do that?

Koushun watched Jusetsu ponder.

“You always take ghosts seriously, don’t you?”

Jusetsu looked up at him. “…I know no other way.”

Unexpectedly, those words were her true feelings.

“The most I can do here is to save the ghosts,” she said, then derided herself. “No, sometimes not even that.”

She would spend a preposterous amount of time here until she died. If she couldn’t have anything to do with people, then ghosts were the only things left. Even if she didn’t want to concern herself with them, that was the only choice for Jusetsu.

“Ghosts are attached to life. Even though they are dead. They are bound by the memories and feelings they had when they were alive. I want to free them.”

――In exchange for me not being able to escape.

She thought it was warped.

“…You…” Koushun was watching her expression intently. “You’ve become much more talkative than you were in the beginning. You’re talking about your feelings.”

Jusetsu pursed her lips tightly.

“By saving ghosts, some of the living can be saved as well. You probably saved more people than you think. What you do isn’t limited to ghosts.”

Koushun’s voice was dispassionate and gently piled up in Jusetsu’s heart like light snow.

Speechless, Jusetsu looked away from Koushun. He had suddenly and quietly touched her heart. She didn’t know whether or not that bothered her or made her happy. It just made her feel warm inside.

“——You said the man turned around at a banquet.”

She forcibly turned the conversation back. Yes, Koushun answered.

“If it was a banquet, then there must have been musicians there.”

“Ah…that’s true. He is the owner of a large shop, so he must have hired a good number of musicians.”

“If the masked man was a musician, then he must have reacted to the sound of a musical instrument.”

“The sound of a musical instrument, eh,” Koushun folded his arms.

“There are many different kinds of instruments, but the ones used for banquets are——”

“The zither, the yueqin, the biwa, the konghou, the flute, the xiao, the sheng, and the yu…instruments like those.”

Koushun listed them on his fingers. There were instruments Jusetsu had never heard of.

“If you listen to them with this mask, he might turn around.”

If the man reacted, there would be things they would understand.

“Then, rather than checking randomly, it’s better to ask the merchant himself about which instruments were played at the banquet.”

I’ll ask Meiin, Koushun said, and then stood up.

“Are you going now?”

“Yes, but what about it?”

Jusetsu stared at his face.

“――If you have any need of me, I can stay here for a while,” Koushun sat down again, and Jusetsu knitted her eyebrows together.

“I don’t need anything from you,” Anger flared up within Jusetsu. “You come here uninvited and without any reason, yet you ask me if I need anything?”

Koushun’s eyes widened. “…No, you have a point.”

His mouth seemed to loosen just a bit.

“Then, how about we drink tea together like friends do?”

Koushun glanced at Ei Sei, who headed toward the kitchen without making a sound.

Jusetsu knew that Koushun wouldn’t talk about anything important when he was detained like this. She wondered if he was aware of it. He read too much into her feelings, but he never talked about himself at all.

After a few days, Koushun visited with answers.

“The instruments played at the banquet were a transverse flute and a biwa. The ones performing aren’t the merchant’s own retained musicians, but a wubang hired only for a day.”

“Wubang…”

“In that case, I think the man reacted to the sound of the biwa.”

“Why do you think so?”

Jusetsu asked, and Koushun opened the box he had brought once again and took out the cloth mask.

“The holes in the mask differ depending on the instrument used,” Koushun spread out the cloth and explained. “It’s the same as the ones for the eyes.” He pointed at the mask’s mouth.

“If it’s a transverse flute, you cut a slit in the sides of the mouth and blow through the slit. If it’s a vertical flute, there’s a vertical slit at the lips. With other instruments, there’s no need for a slit.”

There were no slits on the mask.

“This is the mask of a musician who plays an instrument that isn’t a flute. Wouldn’t a musician respond to the sound of the instrument he once played?”

That meant that the masked man was most likely a biwa player.

“That was why I was wondering if I should have someone play the biwa for him.”

In fact, Koushun had already had the biwa be played for him once.

“I summoned a biwa player from the Ibis Workshop to play for me. But the masked man didn’t turn around.”

“Then that must mean he wasn’t a biwa player.”

“Why did he turn around, then? Was he draw to the sound of the flute even though he wasn’t a flute player?”

The two of them pondered together.

Wubang, huh, Jusetsu murmured. Onkei came to mind when she heard that word.

“…Ei Sei.”

Jusetsu called out to him, and he responded while looking suspicious. “Yes, Niangniang, what can I do for you?”

“Onkei should be outside. Can you go get him?”

“Onkei?” Koushun questioned her.

“I want to ask him some things. For wubangs, it would be better to ask Onkei about them. He was once in one.”

“Is that so?” Koushun looked back at Ei Sei, who was staring at Jusetsu with surprise.

“Yes, it is so. ——You are very knowledgeable, Niangniang.”

“I heard about it from Onkei.”

“He told you? Don’t tell me—”

“Was it problematic for me to hear about it? I haven’t told anyone else.”

“No, that isn’t it at all. I beg your pardon.”

I was just surprised, Ei Sei said. Then, he quickly walked out the doors to go and call for Onkei.

“Eunuchs are reluctant to talk about their own personal history. You must be very trusted by Onkei.”

“I know not if he trusts me or not,” Jusetsu remembered Onkei’s blood-curdling story and tears and closed her mouth. He had given his heart to her back then.

Jusetsu wondered if she would be able to repay him with something worthy of that trust.

Ei Sei returned with Onkei. Jusetsu called him to her side.

“I would like to ask you about the instruments used by wubang musicians.”

“Yes,” Onkei, who was kneeling next to her, stood up.

“Are there—any special instruments? Are they different from the instruments used by the musicians of the Ibis Workshop, for instance?”

Onkei seemed to be thinking over this a little.

“I think they are basically the same.”

“What do you mean when you say ‘basically’?”

“I am not familiar with all wubangs. They can vary greatly from region to region. I only know of one that used an unusual instrument.”

“Only one?”

“Yes. The biwa used by a musician in my old wubang.”

“Biwa—”

Onkei and Jusetsu’s gazes met. The biwa player in Onkei’s old wubang. Jusetsu didn’t say anything, but Onkei nodded lightly.

“The biwa player was a petite girl. It was easy to hold with slender arms, and the shape was small for a biwa, so she was able to play it well. It was about one size smaller than a standard biwa. Biwas usually have four strings, but that one had five. The biwa’s tuning pegs—the head of the biwa—is usually bent, but that biwa was straight. It was said to have been introduced from a small island in the west. The west of Dou Province, Shichou Island—the island of exiles. I heard it was created by an exile from another country, but I do not know if this is true or not. I was told that this type of biwa is a common sight around Dou Province, but it is rare here. I had only ever seen that girl owning one.”

“——Koushun,” Jusetsu said, still facing Onkei. “What are the unique features of the biwa used at the merchant’s banquet?”

“I don’t know,” Koushun answered. “However, I was told that the biwa player was a woman.”

“What?” Jusetsu turned to Koushun.

“That wubang is called the ‘Red Sparrow,’ and its leader’s name is Sha. (1) This was confirmed by a copy of his travel papers, so there is no mistake.”

Jusetsu looked at Onkei again and found him with a stunned expression on his face.

“That is my old wubang.”

“Then—”

That meant the biwa-playing woman was ——

“That means that the biwa played at the banquet was that unconventional biwa.”

A biwa from Shichou Island, huh? Koushun crossed his arms.

“It would be best if we had that wubang’s biwa here, but they had already left the capital.”

What do we do then? Jusetsu’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“But…I do know of one exotic biwa. I don’t know if it would attract the masked man’s attention, though.”

“Is there one in the Ibis Workshop?”

No, he said.

“It’s in the Gyokou Hall treasury.”

When asked if she would like to go, Jusetsu declined. There was a guard eunuch named Ui stationed at the treasury. Jusetsu didn’t like him. She felt like she was standing in front of a door that shouldn’t be opened when she talked to him.

Koushun took Ei Sei with him to check on the biwa. Jusetsu looked up at Onkei, who was standing by her side.

“I’m sure you can find out more about how the people of the ‘Red Sparrow’ are doing if you asked them.”

“No,” Onkei quickly shook his head. “It’s fine. As long as they are in good health, that’s all that matters.”

He smiled a little.

“After I entered the inner palace, I was worried that their travel papers would be taken away from them and that they would no longer be able to work, but Attendant Ei had already inquired about this for me. They were no longer in the capital when I asked him about it, but they seemed to have continued to their performances without incident.”

Kiji as well, he whispered.

“Kiji?”

“The biwa player. It seems that she is renowned as one of the best biwa players in the country.”

“…I see.”

It seemed to her that he had no intention of ever meeting Kiji again.

“Niangniang,” Jiujiu poked her head out from the kitchen door. “Shall I bring out some of the just-ripened plums His Majesty gifted us?”

“Mm, very we—” Just as she was about to answer, Ishiha poked out his head from Jiujiu’s side. He was holding Xingxing in his arms. That mystical bird didn’t like people, but strangely, it seemed to have taken to Ishiha. It seemed that it was being taken outside right now.

“Is Xingxing not leaping upon you or pecking at you, Ishiha?”

“No, it’s a very nice bird, Niangniang.”

A nice bird? Jusetsu had great doubts about that, but Ishiha seemed to really think so.

Ishiha put Xingxing on the floor but didn’t leave, instead fidgeting and staring at Jusetsu. She beckoned him forward, wondering if the plums had caught his eye. “You may eat here as well.”

“Huh? Um, that wasn’t it, I mean…thank you, Niangniang.” Flustered, Ishiha came to her side.

“——Then, I shall take my leave.”

“Eat some plums.” Jusetsu stopped Onkei just as he was about to leave. “No, I——” he was about to say, but it seemed that he decided to obey in the end because orders were orders.

“Um, excuse me,” Ishiha hesitantly called out to him. “I heard that it was you who recommended me to the Lady Raven Consort, Mr. Onkei. I wanted to thank you, but it was difficult to meet you. ――Thank you very much.”

Ishiha spoke carefully, punctuating each word with a faltering tone. It seemed that the reason he was fidgety was because he wanted to say this to Onkei.

“…I only thought it would benefit Niangniang. It wasn’t for your sake.”

Onkei seemed puzzled.

“You helped me greatly. That’s why I’m thanking you.”

Ishiha was straightforward. That bewildered Onkei. He simply replied, “I see, I’m glad to hear that.”

Jiujiu brought over the bowl of plums. The small fruits had a strength and juiciness that seemed to almost burst forth from the purplish red skin. A sweet scene wafted from them. Jusetsu handed a plum each to Onkei and the others and took one for herself, then sat down on the edge of the latticed window and bit into the skin. She felt the vitality of the fruit as it pushed back against her teeth. In the summer, everything around her was strong and filled with blood. Even at night, the sounds of the insects were so loud that they concealed the intensity of the darkness. As daylight grew brighter and brighter, Wulian Niangniang’s shadow faded. ——It was the season of the Summer King.

Jusetsu, who was looking out the window, turned around to look at Ishiha.

“…I heard that the eunuch who was your former mentor had fallen ill. Did you know that?”

Ishiha, who was biting into his plum, wiped his sticky mouth.

“Yes, I know. But I don’t think he’s ill.”

“What do you mean?”

“Shifu—he isn’t my shifu anymore, but that person is afraid. He’s afraid of everything. The sound of the wind, the sound of footsteps, the shadows, everything.”

“What is he so afraid of?”

“You, Niangniang.”

Jusetsu’s eyes widened at Ishiha’s reply. “Me?”

“When you saved me, Niangniang, you told him not to beat me and that if he did, disaster would befall him. You told him that you already knew his name.”

“Ah.” She had threatened him. It was a threat that she would curse him using his name.

“——Don’t tell me that the threat worked too well?”

“I think so. He became very frightened after that. He was talking about how there was a monster in your eyes, Niangniang.”

Jusetsu’s breath caught, and she was at a loss for words. A monster? In my eyes?

“…Ishiha.”

Onkei raised his voice in a reproachful tone, and Ishiha startled.

You are reading story Koukyuu no Karasu at novel35.com

“I—I’m very sorry. Um, that’s why, he was so scared that he made that mistake. There isn’t a monster in your eyes, Niangniang.”

Jusetsu gripped her own arms tightly. What exactly did that eunuch see in her? A monster—.

“…”

Jusetsu recalled that previous incident where she almost lost sight of herself. Hyougetsu had taken Jiujiu hostage and injured her. Anger and power that even she couldn’t control whirled around inside her. It felt like she wasn’t herself.

What was it that controlled Jusetsu at that time?

She felt cold, as though a shadow had crept into her chest. A bead of cold sweat trickled down her back.

In the evening of the next day, a messenger came from Koushun. It was Ei Sei.

“Could you please come to Goushi Hall?”

It was one of the palaces in the inner court where the emperor resided. Jusetsu decided to take Onkei with her. Jiujiu, left behind, was pouting, and it was Ishiha who pacified her.

“Was the biwa in the treasury?” she asked, but Ei Sei only curtly answered, “Please ask Dajia.” He seemed to be in a strangely bad mood, but that was usual for him.

They passed through Ringai Gate, which connected the inner palace and the inner court. The guards at the gate were staring at Jusetsu with blank faces. Jusetsu was wearing a black ruqun and peonies in her hair, the outfit of the Raven Consort.

Goushi Hall was a small building, closer to the inner palace than Gyokou Hall. The blue-glazed roof tiles shine brightly in the sunlight, and the lacquered pillows looked darkened in the shadows. All the doors facing the outer corridor were open, and the sound of music came from within. The sound of plucking strings—it must have a biwa. The high, dry sounds reverberated quietly, and the lingering notes spread out gently. It was like drops of water falling onto a water surface and creating gentle ripples. There was also a faint smell of incense in the air. Was that agarwood incense? That was the incense that Jusetsu liked and usually lit in her room.

As they walked on the paved path and climbed the steps, they found Koushun seated on a couch in the palace, listening to the musician playing the biwa. His attendant eunuchs stood by the doors like stone statues. When Jusetsu appeared, Koushun raised his hand to stop the biwa music. The musician sitting diagonally from him was dressed in grayish-green robes and holding a biwa of unusual shape. It was a beautiful biwa decorated with floral designs of tortoiseshell and mother-of-pearl.

“This is the exotic biwa that was in the treasury,” Koushun said after he prompted Jusetsu to sit on the chair next to him. “It’s made of rosewood and inlaid with tortoiseshell and green turban shells. (2) It’s smaller than a regular biwa and has a straight neck. And, it has five strings.”

It had the same traits as the biwa Onkei talked about. He nodded at her when she looked at him. “It has the same shape as the one Kiji played, though not as extravagant and fine as this one.”

The box with the mask was placed next to Koushun. He opened the lid and took the mask out.

“Try it on.”

Jusetsu accepted the mask and unfolded it to look through the eye holes. Koushun again ordered the musician to play the biwa. The gentle and dry tone began to resonate.

She froze with a jerk. The man on the other side of the eye holes was looking back at her. His cheeks were emaciated and his eyes were sunken. Under his shadowed eyelids, only his eyes shone piercingly. His face was pale, and his dry and bloodless lips were slightly parted.

Jusetsu looked away from the eye holes and stared at the biwa. It seemed that it really was that sound that attracted the man. Why was that? Returning her gaze to the eye holes, Jusetsu jumped in surprise. There were eyes right in front of her. Eyes peering at her. The eyes were bloodshot and had a strange light coming from them. They were the eyes of the mask man.

She instinctively took the mask off her face.

“He is looking directly into your eyes,” Koushun said calmly. Jusetsu nodded.

“He—is very obsessed with the sound of this biwa.”

“That’s the thing, though,” Koushun stopped the musician. “Listen to what this man has to say.”

He indicated the musician with his eyes. He was an old man wearing gray-green robes. His hair, tied in a topknot, was almost completely white, and his slender face and hands were dry and deeply lined. However, his fingers were beautiful. They were long and beautifully shaped. Perhaps it was because he was a biwa player.

The musician introduced himself as Sa Kyuuyou. He had been in the Ibis Workshop since he was eighteen. Nowadays he didn’t appear at banquets or ceremonies, but taught and trained young musicians. Unlike his smooth biwa playing, You spoke haltingly in a muffled voice.

“The other day, a young man from the Ibis Workshop came to play the biwa at the invitation of His Majesty. After hearing what he said…I think that the ghost who is possessing the cloth mask is a man I once knew. Today, a messenger came…a musician to play this biwa has been summoned…that was what they told me.”

“Who is this man that you knew?”

“He was an Ibis Workshop musician, just like me. We were close in age and joined the workshop around the same time. Both he and I were biwa players, but he was already known as a master. His favorite instrument was the five-stringed biwa.”

His name was Kippuku Shihitsu, and he came from Shichou Island, a small island in the west. That was the island where the five-string biwa was created.

“Shihitsu was a taciturn man. He didn’t associate with others and was always touching his biwa. This is partly because the five-stringed biwa is more difficult to tune than the four-stringed biwa…the four-stringed biwa, with its curved tuning pegs, is easier to tune while playing. The five-string is played with one’s fingers, and the four-string is played with a plectrum, and the quality of the sound is different as well. The five-string is more difficult to handle. I know of no other musician who could play it so freely except for Shihitsu. When he plucked the strings, he produced tones that no one else could produce. It was a sound that quietly seeped deeply into one’s heart, as if surrounded by drizzling rain.”

You looked down at the biwa in his hand as he spoke. It was more like he was speaking to the biwa than Jusetsu.

“In contrast to the sounds he produced, Shihitsu was a gloomy and unfriendly man. Day and night, he devoted himself solely to silently improving his art and seemed to have no interest in anything else. He would have been happy if he could have just played his biwa, I think. I was both envious and horrified of him. When he played the biwa, he sometimes seemed to have a horrifying presence, as if he were inhibited by a demon. It felt like he was only living to play the biwa. I also felt a sense of dread, wondering what would happen to that man if he no longer had his biwa. And in fact, those fears were proven true.”

You closed his mouth, as though he was tired. “What do you mean?” Jusetsu prompted him. She noticed that he had never once looked at the cloth mask.

“In any case, he was a man who didn’t fit in with those around him, and there wasn’t a small number of colleagues who ostracized him. There must have been some jealousy. Because of his personality, he doesn’t entertain people even at banquets. His sound was beautiful, but it lacked comfort. …It wasn’t as though there was some sort of decisive event. Still, little by little, the number of times Shihitsu was called upon as a musician began to decline. The more this happened, the more his sound was sharpened and overpowered the others when he played in public. For that reason, he was even more shunned. A sound that is too prominent and outstanding will disrupt the overall sound. Without opportunities to show off his skill, Shihitsu devoted himself to refining his art in the Ibis Workshop. Day and night, the sound of his biwa resounded throughout the workshop. Without a moment’s pause, on and on…”

It was terrifying, You’s voice trembled as though remembering that time. Jusetsu, not wanting to interrupt his story, didn’t interject and let him tell it.

“We were worried about whether or not he was eating or sleeping, but more than that, we couldn’t bear the sound of his biwa. It was as though we were being tortured by a sound far superior to our own. Some of my colleagues complained to him, but the sound didn’t stop. I couldn’t stand it either, so I went to him. He was holding his biwa day after day without ever leaving his room. I was shocked when I saw him for the first time in a long time. His cheeks were hollow and pale, and his body was severely emaciated. Only the pupils of his sunken eyes shone strangely, and his hands plucked at the strings without stopping. Both the biwa’s strings and the front board were stained with black. It was Shihitsu’s blood. Naturally, if you play without rest, you will injure your fingers. Even though the skin on his fingers was peeling and covered in blood, he continued to play without caring about it at all. ‘Shihitsu,’ I called out his name, but he didn’t even look at me. Feeling as if his soul had already crossed the sea, I took the biwa from his arms. When I did that, he shouted and jumped at me. He raised his fists high in the air and severely beaten me. But I knew that I must not give him the biwa. If he continued to play it any longer, he would die. I was desperately hugging the biwa tightly to my chest. I wondered why I had become so desperate. I wasn’t his friend or anything of the sort… Eventually, our colleagues noticed the commotion and came and seized him. We locked him in his room, still raging, and separated him from his biwa. Shihitsu shouted for us to return his biwa and kept banging on the door, but by nightfall, he seemed to have given up and became quiet. We found him hanging in his room the next morning.”

After speaking to that point, You raised his head. He wasn’t looking at anything. He let out a thin sigh and spoke again.

“I was left with Shihitsu’s blood-stained biwa. I should have put it in his coffin, but I was too shaken. It was only after the funeral was over and I returned to my room that I realized that I had his biwa. …That night, I heard the playing of a biwa. It was the sound of Shihitsu’s biwa. It was a sound like rain that seeped into one’s heart, a sound that no one else could produce. It wasn’t coming from the biwa. Even though it was a quiet sound, it resounded everywhere in the Ibis Workshop. My colleagues and I trembled. We thought that Shihitsu couldn’t cross the sea and was still lingering here. Unable to wait until morning, we set Shihitsu’s biwa on fire in the courtyard. After we did that, the playing stopped. Everyone was relieved, but I was worried, because Shihitsu must have resented me. I had taken his biwa away from him. I went to check his room. I was afraid that he would come back again if his belongings were still here. He didn’t leave many items behind. There was a brush, an inkstone, an ink stick, a worn robe, and a cloth mask. ――That is that very mask.”

For the first time, You looked at the cloth mask. But then he immediately looked away.

“It would be quicker to throw everything away rather than burning them—you can’t burn an inkstone anyway—so I asked a servant to take Shihitsu’s belongings somewhere far away so they could be discarded. Finally, I felt relieved. I would have never thought that the cloth mask would still exist.”

It was unknown whether the servant had sold off the items instead of discarding them, or if someone found the discarded items and decided to sell them, but the cloth mask was left behind.

“There were no more sounds of biwa playing in the Ibis Workshop, and he didn’t appear there either. But his soul remained without crossing the sea.”

You’s face stiffened. He was frightened.

“Shihitsu must have wanted a biwa. He wanted to take back the biwa that was taken from him. I—when I took the biwa away from him, I wasn’t worried about him. I used it as a justification because I wanted to take away his talent for music. The thought of being able to do that even gave me pleasure. That was why I held onto his biwa so tightly. I envied his talent more than any of our colleagues. That’s why—it’s my fault that he wasn’t able to cross the sea.”

You expressed his feelings with a pale face. His voice sounded painful, as though he was spitting out a lump from the back of his throat.

Jusetsu looked down at the mask. Even without looking through the eye holes, she could see Shihitsu’s piercing eyes.

“…Perhaps he should be called a music demon. A man who was enthralled by music. That obsession remained after his death, and if you hadn’t taken away his biwa, he would have turned into a demon even while he was alive. In that sense, it could be said that it was thanks to you that Shihitsu was able to die as a person.”

You shook his head, his head still hanging down. “I didn’t take away his biwa with those thoughts in mind.”

“I don’t know what you were thinking,” Jusetsu said firmly. “Whether you intended to or not, Shihitsu didn’t turn into a demon.”

You raised his head and stared at Jusetsu. “Yes,” he said, and simply nodded.

Jusetsu unfolded the mask and held it out in front of her.

“If we give that man a biwa now, his obsession will not disappear, but will only grow stronger and more intense. That might even turn him into a demon.”

What should we do? Jusetsu wondered, and then turned her gaze to the biwa in You’s hands.

“Koushun, would it be problematic to burn that biwa?”

“Burn…” Koushun’s expression didn’t change—maybe he didn’t have time to change it—but he seemed stunned. “…That would be problematic. Extremely.”

“Is that so.”

“I am not allowed to do whatever I want with the items in the treasury. They don’t belong to me.”

“I understand. Is there a five-stringed biwa in the Ibis Workshop?”

When she directed that question to You, he answered, “There is no five-stringed biwa player currently at the workshop, so I don’t think there is one…but I might be able to find an old one.”

“Preferably, something that no one is using anymore. Find one for me.”

Koushun summoned Ei Sei and had him go to the Ibis Workshop with You. Since the workshop was located outside of the imperial palace, it would take a while to go there and return. Koushun prepared a cup of tea for Jusetsu, accompanied by white honey cakes. Koushun watched her eat them as he leaned against the armrest.

“Koushun, I trust that you understand.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t accept requests for free. I will need payment.”

“…But I heard you accepted Ishiha’s request for free?”

Jusetsu stopped eating and glanced at Koushun sharply.

“You want me to extract a price from a child?”

“Isn’t that unfair?”

“It doesn’t have to be fair. It’s my decision. I do what I want.”

Unexpectedly, Koushun burst into laughter.

“I see. I wish I could answer that too. I envy you.”

This was the first time Jusetsu had ever seen Koushun’s shoulders shaking with laughter. The eunuchs standing by the doors also looked stunned.

But Koushun quickly retracted his smile.

“No, I said something unnecessary. I shouldn’t have told you that I envied you.”

Jusetsu stared at his face. This man is too serious.

“Don’t worry over every little thing. Say whatever you like. If I’m displeased with it, I’ll tell you.”

“I don’t want you to feel ‘displeased’ with me.”

“…” Jusetsu frowned vigorously. What a bother.

“Did you think so now?”

“No. I thought you were ‘bothersome.’”

“That’s better than being ‘displeased.’”

Is that really better? She thought, but it was too bothersome to ask him to explain, so she closed her mouth. Instead, she put another slice of cake into her mouth.

“What sort of gift do you want for this time? Cakes? Or jelly desserts?”

“Stop assuming that all you need to do is to give me food.”

“If there’s anything else you want, I’ll get it for you.”

“…There isn’t,” she said sullenly, and Koushun laughed a little.

As they were doing this, You and Ei Sei returned. You was holding a small biwa in his hands. It was an old five-stringed biwa.

“Would this do?”

“Mm, it will. Play it for me.”

You put the biwa on his lap and plucked the strings one by one from the end. He fiddled with the tuning pegs and adjusted the strings, and then played a short melody to check it again. When he finished, he picked up the biwa again and began to play a smooth tune.

The sound was beautiful. The dry, high-pitched tones were like a cool breeze sliding over cobblestones. It was light and pleasant to the ear.

Jusetsu pulled out a peony from her hair. She blew lightly on the petals, and they turned into a fine silver sand which she sprinkled onto the cloth mask. There were flickering lights, which disappeared when they touched the mask.

“Kippuku Shihitsu.”

Jusetsu called out the name to the mask. There was no response for a while. After a few moments, however, a husky noise that sounded like faint sighing became mingled with the biwa’s melody. White fingers suddenly protruded from the eye holes. You bent back in shock, but Jusetsu ordered him not to stop playing with her eyes, and he continued to play with a stiffened face.

The white fingers twisted, and then warped hands appeared. They were an old person’s hands, just skin and bones. And then, arms like dead branches followed. Sleeves of a tattered robe. The hands groped the air, and then shoulders slipped through. A man’s body slowly came out of the small eye holes that seemed impossible to come out of. The man put his hands on the table and crawled out. His face was pale and emaciated, and his lips were dry and chapped. Only the pupils of his sunken and shadowed eyes were glittering with a strange light and moving around.

The man’s eyes looked up. You’s shoulders trembled, but he seemed to be barely stifling a scream by biting his lip. The man’s eyes focused on the biwa. He crawled over to it. You clearly looked like he wanted to run away, but as expected of a musician, he continued to pluck the strings while trembling. The man reached out his hand as though lured by the sound. As soon as his fingers touched the strings, they seemed to disappear, crumbling away like sand. ――They didn’t disappear, but were sucked into the biwa’s sound.

As the man’s body got closer to the biwa, it disappeared like quicksand and got sucked in. His arms disappeared into sand, then his shoulders, and then his face. The sand sparkled like silver powder. His legs disappeared, and then finally, even the toes of his shoes vanished, leaving behind a faint glimmer. Jusetsu had the biwa play for a little while more.

“――That’s enough.”

Jusetsu raised her hand to stop You, accepted the biwa from him, and stood up along with the mask. She went out to the outer corridor and went down the steps. The sun had already set and darkness had fallen. The buds of the pagoda tree that was planted by the palace looked bluish black. Placing the biwa and the mask by the tree, Jusetsu stepped away. A pale red flame then rose from the biwa. There was no heat. It was a quiet flame. It shimmered faintly in the darkness. The fire slowly licked the biwa and the mask and silently burned them from the edges. There was no unpleasant smell of burning, only the fragrant smell of flowers instead. The pale red flames were sometimes tinged with white as they flickered, enveloping the biwa and mask. Just before everything was burned away, there was a plucking of strings that lingered long after the flames were extinguished.

Darkness returned.

Jusetsu returned to the palace. You was rooted to the front of the door.

“With this, Shihitsu has crossed the sea.”

After she informed him of that, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head deeply to her.

“The sun has completely set. I’ll have Ei Sei accompany you back to Yamei Palace.”

Koushun, who left the palace, said while looking up at the sky, after sending You back to the Ibis Workshop.

“There is no need for that. I have Onkei.”

“Two escorts are better than one.”

“…Who do you think you are saying that to?”

Jusetsu was astounded. The night was the dominion of the Raven Consort.

“You shouldn’t be over-confident in your own abilities. You should remember sometimes that you are a sixteen-year-old girl.”

Jusetsu frowned, but Koushun foisted Ei Sei on her and left. The eunuchs followed him in close succession.

Ei Sei lit a candle and started walking ahead of her. Although Koushun’s orders were absolute to Ei Sei, he made no attempt to hide his displeasure with Jusetsu. He still seemed to be in a bad mood even now.

“Is Koushun tired?”

After passing through Ringai Gate, Jusetsu asked Ei Sei. He glanced back at her.

“Dajia is very busy, so there is never a time when he isn’t tired.”

“He’s busy, and yet he still has the time to bring me requests?”

Ei Sei glared at her. She thought that he was the only person who would glare at the Raven Consort.

“That is something I would like to ask him.”

“You should stop him.”

“I cannot do such an irreverent thing.”

“Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean you can take your displeasure out on me.”

Ei Sei frowned. “I’m not doing that at all.”

Then explain that expression on your face, she wanted to say.

“You can go now. Onkei can guard me.”

“I cannot go against Dajia’s orders.”

Jusetsu had already stopped talking. She didn’t feel like engaging with him in an argument.

“…Until now, we shared the same lesion, the empress dowager.”

After walking for a while, Ei Sei spoke for some reason.

“Now that she is dead, those who have kept quiet during that time have now become fetters on Dajia.”

Jusetsu stared at Ei Sei’s back. He was speaking in a roundabout way, but it wasn’t impossible to understand what he was getting at.

“Speaking of things that trouble emperors, this has been unchanging since time immemorial.”

Consort clans—the relatives of a consort.

“The current foremost consort of the inner palace is Kajou. Her grandfather is the prime minister, is he not?”

“Prime Minister Un has been a close aide of Dajia since he was the crown prince.”

“I see. So the Un clan is the most powerful clan right now. I wonder if Koushun deliberately took Kajou as his consort because he doesn’t want to suffer the troubles of consort clans.”

“…I don’t quite follow…”

“In order to prevent the birth of a child.”

Ei Sei didn’t reply, but he didn’t deny it either.

Kajou still had feelings for her deceased lover. Although she was in the inner palace as a consort, she wasn’t husband and wife with Koushun. Of course, they couldn’t have children. In other words, there would be no crown prince from the Un clan. For the consort’s relatives, as long as they had the crown prince, there was no need for the emperor. If he became a nuisance, he could be dealt with. Whether or not the Un clan would go that far, their high-handedness was curbed by not having children. But that didn’t mean that their power should be reduced too much. For the emperor, that was how strong his connections were with the consort clan, and how much they were his allies.

It must be wearing down Koushun’s nerves.

“…I don’t think he has the leisure to worry about me,” she murmured.

“Precisely,” Ei Sei’s cold voice replied. “Dajia is a serious and compassionate person. That is why he cannot leave you alone.”

She could almost hear his inner voice saying, Even though I wish he would. Ei Sei stopped and looked back at Jusetsu. The light of the candle illuminated his beauty.

“You will surely be a disaster for Dajia one day.”

Ei Sei’s beautiful eyes were filled with melancholy, frustration, and irrepressible fear. Jusetsu stared straight into them.

“…It must be a blessing for Koushun to have someone like you by his side.”

After she said that, Ei Sei pursed his lips tightly and he turned his back to her. He walked ahead quietly, as if there had been no conversation between them. The candle’s light flickered in front of Ei Sei, searing the outline of his body.

When they arrived at Yamei Palace, Ei Sei stopped at the bottom of the steps and motioned for Jusetsu to go in. After climbing the steps, she turned around in front of the doors and said to Ei Sei and Onkei, “Thank you for your hard work.” Onkei hadn’t uttered a single word as he followed them on their way here. The two men bowed and didn’t raise their heads until Jusetsu had stepped through the doors.

“Onkei, I need to talk to you about something.”

After watching Jusetsu enter the palace, Ei Sei turned to him and said that, then turned on his heel. However, Onkei didn’t move.

“Are we returning to the inner court? I have to guard Yamei Palace, so…”

Ei Sei was annoyed when he said that in a somewhat puzzled tone.

“Don’t get it wrong. You are not a eunuch of Yamei Palace. You are Dajia’s eunuch.”

“Yes, sir,” Onkei nodded and said as if it were obvious, but Ei Sei knitted his brow. Was he not aware of it? Onkei had already become mostly Jusetsu’s eunuch.

The reason for Ei Sei’s recently displeasure lied here. Before they knew it, the people around Jusetsu had increased. Even Onkei, who he had looked after the most since he was a chi’er, and who he had trained to become his most trusted subordinate, had joined her. A sense of unease, like a drop of ink dripping into water, spread throughout Ei Sei’s chest.

“…Then we will talk while you do your nightly rounds.”

Ei Sei, who was about to turn back the way they come, headed for the laurel and rhododendron woods that surrounded Yamei Palace. Onkei followed him.

“I didn’t send you to Yamei Palace to have you befriend the Raven Consort. You know that.”

“Yes, sir.”

The reason that Onkei was appointed to the Raven Consort was to have him report every single piece of information back to him. His job was first and foremost as a spy.

There was no hesitation in Onkei’s answer. However, he continued with a “But, sir.”

“But sir, isn’t it unnecessary to be so cautious? Lady Jusetsu doesn’t resent Dajia at all, in fact, she helps him.”

“…That is why I’m afraid.”

That murmur didn’t reach Onkei. Onkei looked puzzled, but Ei Sei kept his mouth shut.

Jusetsu had rescued Koushun from the empress dowager’s curse. Despite her demeanour, Ei Sei knew her to be a good-hearted and compassionate girl. He was also well aware that Jusetsu was the one with whom Koushun found temporary peace of mind. That was why he was afraid. It was a fear that he couldn’t put into words. One day, this might become a trap, and she would an enemy to Koushun and pull the rug from under him.

I’m unbearably terrified.

“Attendant Ei.”

Onkei called out in a tense voice and stopped. What is it, Ei Sei was about to say when he also startled. They were in the woods. The moonlight was dimly illuminating the trees, but the shadows were dark. There was a scent coming from behind the trees.

Both Ei Sei and Onkei fell silent. However, when they looked at each other, they saw a wary look in each other’s eyes. After catching their breaths, the two of them moved forward, their footsteps muffled, towards the scent.

The closer they got to it, the stronger it became. It was a fishy, metallic, and stuffy scent.

It was the smell of blood.

They stopped. An old tree had rotted and fallen over, creating an open space. There were places like these in woods and forests. There were no branches and leaves that blocked the sunlight, allowing the sun to shine and new trees to grow. This was how trees changed from old to new.

The moonlight was shining there now. The pale light illuminated the rotten, moss-covered fallen tree. The moonlight was reminiscent of a finely sharpened blade. A transparent, sharp, and merciless light.

Someone was lying next to the fallen tree illuminated by light. It was a young woman dressed in the ruqun of a palace lady. Her eyes were staring blankly into space, unmoving. The fingers of her splayed-out hands were stiff and crooked. Her clothing and the ground was dyed with reddish-black—the blood overflowing from her throat.

The woman’s windpipe had been bitten out.

You can find story with these keywords: Koukyuu no Karasu, Read Koukyuu no Karasu, Koukyuu no Karasu novel, Koukyuu no Karasu book, Koukyuu no Karasu story, Koukyuu no Karasu full, Koukyuu no Karasu Latest Chapter