Famine 154: Seed

Kazuko quivered softly.

She thought she would never be able to say it, but the instant that question surfaced in her mind, a flood of things crawled out from the depths of her heart—tugging, clamoring, pressing at her throat, impossible to hold back.

Afternoons spent counting ants upon the shrine steps.
Fawns bounding through the woodland shadows.
An extra helping of sweet fish flakes atop her rice balls.

All the carefree days they shared surged forth, one after another. The years when youth knew nothing of sorrow—the brightest time in her life—had slipped by in a blink.

She’d thought she’d forgotten, but truly she’d remembered it all so deeply that not even a thousand years of sitting in wooden silence could obliterate those memories. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could still hear Uncle Yamada’s deep, rolling laughter, the windchimes at the shrine, and the songbirds in the hills.

Kazuko had a thousand things she wanted to say, but she was no longer the oblivious girl of her youth.
Thousands of words gathered at her throat; at last, all she could do was open her mouth and let out a foolishly faint, reverent, and simple answer:

“…Yes.”

Kazuko bowed low.

“Please, Master, guide me.”

Back then, the miko teachers had tried every possible way to make the ten-year-old Tenmai Maiden graceful, polite, humble, and composed, her face unruffled by emotion.
In the end, she succeeded.

Sss—

A breeze drifted through.

Behind Si Zhiyan, a slightly hunched blackthorn tree shook gently—a faded, dark red cloth streamer tied to its tip, fluttering in the wind.

Si Zhiyan raised his gaze for a moment.
It was Kazuko’s hair ribbon, the one Zhong Yanqing had tied there.

This blackthorn tree was particularly fond of the ribbon. Whenever Zhong Yanqing brought it, the usually silent tree would show some response.

…

The wind died. Not a single tree moved in the slightest.

Zhong Yanqing frowned in confusion: “That’s strange. They’re supposed to be free…”

“If I were him, I wouldn’t have the face to show up either.”
Nidhogg rolled his eyes, exasperated.
“If anyone threatened my child, the first thing I would do is tear off his skin, snap his spine, and pull out his nerves to make him a noose. Asking now if he wants to show his face? He wouldn’t dare.”

Kazuko pressed her lips together. “…I no longer blame anyone.”

Nidhogg replied, “You don’t get it.”

The moment went quiet. Kazuko glanced at Si Zhiyan for help.

With everyone watching, Si Zhiyan stroked the bark, narrowed his eyes, seeming lost in thought.

After a while, he suddenly chuckled. “Miss Kazuko.”

“Yes.”

Si Zhiyan turned his head slightly, posing a question that no one expected: “The Divine Attendant Warriors—what did they eat?”

Eh? Kazuko stared in surprise, but answered, “Tenman Shrine was offered tribute from the entire land, so material life was plentiful. The warriors’ daily rations were simple meals—miso soup, salted mackerel, and pickled-plum rice balls. But their training was hard, so they often made their own special dishes on the side.”

“Uncle… Yamada would hunt wild game to roast, or some warriors would go into town to buy food. There were endless varieties—translucent thin-sliced sashimi, grilled fish cakes, soy-sauce mochi, charcoal-grilled meat, yakitori skewers… During festivals there would be taiyaki, candied apples, sukiyaki… Every time Uncle Yamada came back, he always brought me a bag of konpeito candies…”

Once she started, she couldn’t stop—one food after another tumbled out.

“Good.” Si Zhiyan clapped his hands. “Come, let’s make a meal for Uncle Yamada and the warriors!”

“And this meal, Miss Kazuko—you must prepare it yourself, with your own hands. No one else can do it for you.”

Kazuko hesitated.

Nidhogg snapped, “And you think this is about food?!”

“Eating is just a ritual. It doesn’t matter what form it takes; what matters is that you do something yourself.”
Si Zhiyan’s fingertips rested on the bark as he spoke:
“Have you ever considered what force allows these warriors to become trees, to survive until now?”

“To forge this endless forest could only have taken a world-shaping, nearly miraculous power.”

“First, this power doesn’t come from the Divine Attendant Warriors themselves. Since they did not turn into anomalies, their devotion to their craft wasn’t enough. They never had that kind of power.”
“Second, it doesn’t come from Aiko or the main deity. If they had actually been controlled by the [Eye], they would have been ordered to go all out during the farm battle, and there would have been no mercy.”

“So, there’s only one answer left.”

Si Zhiyan tilted his head slightly, looking into Kazuko’s eyes.

After a long silence, Kazuko whispered, “[Tenmai].”
“It’s neither me, nor Aiko. It’s the [Tenmai]… who left them here.”

Si Zhiyan nodded with a warm smile.
Speaking to the wise was always less work.

Ever since his first encounter at the hot springs inn, Si Zhiyan had received—

[Tenmai glances your way]
[Tenmai…]

He had once assumed the shrine maiden puppets served Tenmai; in truth, they served Kazuko.

But even now—

Kazuko still served [Tenmai], continuing her own path of training.
Tenmai himself—he had shattered his own fate chart with his own hands, yet still watched over her.

What, in the end, was [Tenmai]? A god? Nature? World consciousness? Si Zhiyan did not know. But one thing was certain: [Tenmai] had a will.

That alone set Tenman Fukuchi apart, utterly unlike any apocalypse he had encountered before.

In this end-time, the land’s original [god] remained.
It was only because of this that life other than anomalies persisted—Tenmai protected Kazuko, watched over the mine spirits, sheltered the Divine Attendant Warriors, and to some extent, even cared for the mining dogs.
Such divine authority did not exist in any other world.

As for why there was such a difference…

——

[Before you are utterly erased, you still have one last chance.]
[If you enter the trial, complete all its tests, and destroy the current [Eye], you can become the new [Eye].]
[Do you accept the trial?]

Grievously wounded, Aiko raised her filthy, bloody face. “At this point, even if I pass the trial and become the [Eye]… what’s the use?”
“If I alone survive, what’s the use…?”

[If you become the Eye, the seed of your world will persist with your will.]

[Waiting for a future moment of sowing.]

——

So, one day, Aiko forced her battered body onward, facing her trials with faltering steps.

She was clever enough to see there was no good outcome to the main deity’s scheme. A quiet death was within reach—on the other side lay a long, deformed life, endless chaos, indefinite torment. She didn’t even know when she might be freed.

Her mind could not endure those distortions and, in time, she completely lost herself—becoming the twisted, jealous [Eye].

But the seed she saved ensured that Tenman Fukuchi would one day meet Si Zhiyan.

A thousand years later, the mining dogs would finally break free from their tortured existence and frolic upon the open grasslands;

The mine spirits would crawl to the surface once again, lying atop the low hills, munching offerings of nuts until their bellies were round as balls;

And the one she had always loved, murdered by her own hands—her twin sister, inseparable since birth—now stood among the straight ranks of Divine Attendant Warriors, slowly lifting her head…

Si Zhiyan stood behind Kazuko, resting long, warm fingers on the girl’s shoulder.
His expression was filled with merciful gentleness, his soft voice resonating behind her.

“Now, you are the one chosen by [Tenmai].
You are the Tenmai Maiden now.”

“You are all that remains.”

My child, my comrade.

[…]

Kazuko closed her hollow eyes; the last tear of blood slipped down her jaw.

From this moment onward, she would never cry again.