Chapter 31 - Jōkyō 3 (1686), Part Two

At the question, Akomachi slowly shook her head.

“The principal deity did not appear to know the details either. One of my rank could scarcely begin to imagine. Still… yes. As something I can do, I intend to bestow a special divine messenger upon Kana. They are presently away undergoing training, but once they return, I shall send them here.”

“We are deeply grateful for your consideration.”

Apparently relieved by those words, Chino’s complexion recovered somewhat as she offered her thanks, but the princess herself—

(A fox of my very own! What sort of child will it be, I wonder? Will we become friends…? Would it mind if I held it? I would like to touch its tail as well… though perhaps that would be asking too much. Still, if possible, I would love to take walks together and share snacks. Ahh, I truly cannot wait!)

—was lost in delighted fantasies after hearing that she would receive a divine messenger. Seeing this, Chino drove an elbow sharply into her side.

The princess snapped back to reality and looked sideways to find her mother wearing the face of a wrathful demon, silently mouthing, “Y-O-U-R T-H-A-N-K-S!” Hastily prostrating herself again, Kana expressed her gratitude to Akomachi.

“Lady Myōbu, I am deeply humbled by the extraordinary consideration you have shown me on this occasion. I, Tsuchimikado Kana, would be honored to receive this gift with the utmost respect. Though I remain inexperienced, I hope that henceforth—”

Smack!

“Ow!”

This time, her bottom was struck with a hiōgi fan so quickly she could barely see it move. Glancing timidly to the side, she once again found her mother wearing the face of a demon and silently mouthing, “Do not add things that need not be said!” Meanwhile, the rumble of thunder drew steadily closer as dark clouds began gathering overhead.

Akomachi watched the scene with apparent interest, but apparently deciding there was no need to remain any longer, she addressed Yasutomi.

“Once preparations are complete on my end, I shall inform your divine messenger. Keep that in mind.”

Leaving those words behind, she vanished together with the mist.

The instant the final wisp of mist disappeared, Princess Kana sprang upright, turned toward her father with sparkling eyes, and grinned triumphantly.

“Father, Lady Myōbu has given her permission!”

Yasutomi, meanwhile, wore an expression as though he had swallowed something bitter, but—

“Oh, very well! For now, at least! But in exchange, you must not neglect your training as a kannagi. Otherwise, Chino will scold me.”

“Yes, I understand!”

(Even Father cannot stand up to Mother, it seems. But now I will no longer need to rely on ladders.)

However, that was the last moment the princess was able to remain cheerful.

“Then we shall begin by increasing your calligraphy and abacus lessons. What you have studied thus far is nowhere near enough. We shall begin tomorrow.”

“What? Father, Lady Myōbu said I was to learn Onmyōdō techniques…”

“Precisely! The most fundamental foundations of Onmyōdō are arithmetic and writing. Without those two, you cannot use techniques correctly. I shall tell your instructors to drill you thoroughly beginning tomorrow. Once you have progressed sufficiently, you will advance to the fundamentals of astronomy and calendrical studies. Only after that will I teach you actual techniques!”

Princess Kana, who had thought she would immediately be taught incantations and how to handle Shiki, stood dumbfounded. Her elder brother Yasumasa then gave her shoulder a pat.

“Kana, if you wish to send a Shiki exactly where you intend, you must use maps and arithmetic to calculate the distance and then record it properly in writing, or it will not fly there. Furthermore, only by understanding the principles of heaven and earth, as well as the meanings held by the names and mantras of gods and Buddhas, and then writing them properly, can a technique exercise its power correctly. Foundations are important in everything.”

Telling her to do her best, he returned to the training hall with the other prospective trainees. Princess Kana noticed that several of the candidates walking behind her brother kept glancing toward her, and among those gazes were a few that carried a distinctly hostile air.

However, large raindrops began pattering down, forcing her to hurry indoors, and immediately afterward Chino dragged her off to the dance practice hall, causing the matter to slip from her mind.

The following day, those who came to Princess Kana were not only old Gonza, the former shibu—a low-ranking official assigned miscellaneous duties—who taught her the abacus once every three days, but also an astronomy scholarship student who introduced himself as Kurahashi.

Kurahashi carried a folded cloth and something resembling a small writing box. These, he explained, were a counting board and counting rods.

According to Kurahashi, the princess first needed to memorize how to arrange the counting rods. Once she could perform the four basic arithmetic operations with them, she would move on to calculations such as extracting square roots and cube roots.

(S-Square roots? Cube roots? What in the world are those…?)

Princess Kana could handle multiplication tables and simple calculations using an abacus without difficulty, but upon realizing that considerably more was expected of her, she found herself clutching her head.

Kurahashi cheerfully spread out a cloth marked with a grid and arranged red and black counting rods beside it.

“First, then, we shall begin with how numbers are represented using counting rods. There are two methods, but…”

In the end, she spent the equivalent of two bell intervals that day doing nothing but learning addition and subtraction with counting rods.

“I can understand the abacus well enough, but I simply cannot make sense of these counting rods. To begin with, what is a ‘negative’ number? How are you supposed to subtract even more from something that does not exist? Lord Kurahashi said Brother is good at this, but can that truly be so? If it is, I can only conclude that he has exceedingly peculiar tastes…”

Completely exhausted, Princess Kana sprawled her upper body across her writing desk and grumbled. Saki offered her tea and kusa-mochi while praising her for her hard work.

“Lord Yasumasa seems especially fond of astronomy, after all. I hear he is also the best at mathematics among all the candidates.”

As Saki spoke in her usual gentle manner, Natsume, who was doing needlework nearby, joined the conversation without pausing her hands.

“That is true. He seems to greatly admire Lord Yasui, who studied here previously, and he visits the observatory quite often as well.”

The princess found it slightly irritating that both of her own attendants were praising her brother with such admiration. With her mouth turning into a slight pout, she lifted a piece of kusa-mochi cut with a kuromoji pick toward her lips and pondered what Natsume had said.

Immediately to the left after entering the front gate of the Tsuchimikado estate stood the observatory, where astronomy scholarship students and astronomy students conducted celestial observations under the guidance of the Doctor of Astronomy. Yasumasa was apparently a frequent visitor there.

“Does Brother intend to become a Doctor of Astronomy?”

“I wonder. Just recently, he seemed to be having a very earnest discussion with Lord Yasui about a new calendar…”

Within the Bureau of Onmyō, the Doctor of Astronomy was the official who oversaw astronomical studies and practiced astrology based upon celestial observations. Those training in that discipline were known as astronomy students.

The Doctor of Calendars, meanwhile, oversaw calendrical studies, which involved the management, creation, and compilation of calendars. Those training in that field were known as calendar students.

Whichever discipline one chose, skill in arithmetic was apparently indispensable. And “Lord Yasui,” whom her brother Yasumasa admired, was said to possess extraordinary mathematical ability. He was apparently also exceptionally skilled at Go and even participated in the official Castle Go matches.

(That… is clearly a person with whom I have very little in common.)

The princess thought this as she stared at the counting board and counting rods Kurahashi had left behind.

The next day was her calligraphy lesson, but because her usual instructor was the only teacher present, Princess Kana felt somewhat relieved.

Her calligraphy instructor, old Jirō, belonged to a collateral branch of the Hon’ami family, renowned authorities in the appraisal of swords, and had once supposedly served as a retainer to a feudal lord.

However, he had already retired and passed his position to his younger brother. He had no children, and his wife had apparently already passed away, so he lived alone in a humble hermitage near the Tsuchimikado estate. He seemed to have a servant who came by regularly, but he handled most things himself and apparently lived without inconvenience.

Once every three days, Princess Kana received instruction from the old man not only in calligraphy, but also in prose, waka poetry, and haiku. In truth, lessons with the cheerful old man—who constantly wandered off topic into stories about swords and the warriors associated with them—were unexpectedly entertaining, and the princess did not dislike them.

“Princess, it seems things have become rather extraordinary for you. Look here. Your father entrusted me with this many textbooks.”

Grinning, old Jirō produced a stack of textbooks he had hidden behind his back and waved them dramatically before the princess’s eyes. At the sheer quantity, her mouth fell open and seemed to forget how to close.

Meanwhile, Saki and Natsume efficiently prepared everything atop the writing desk. And now, sitting imposingly in the center of it, was an inkstone nearly twice the size of the one she usually used.

(So I must begin with this?!)

To grind ink, one first had to place a small amount of water upon the flat surface of the inkstone, then carefully rub the inkstick against it in slow movements, repeating the same monotonous process over and over until enough ink had been prepared.

Considering the size of the inkstone now before her, the princess did not even want to imagine how long it would take before she finished grinding enough ink.

And afterward, a stack of hanshi paper and a mountain of textbooks were waiting for her.

Still, if she did not begin, she would never finish. Resolving herself, Princess Kana picked up the water dropper, and for approximately the next two bell intervals, her right arm was subjected to relentless labor.

“M-My arm… I cannot even hold a hiōgi like this, so surely dance practice is impossible. I shall ask Mother to let me rest today…”

After endlessly grinding ink and practicing the writing of kanji she did not normally use very often, the princess complained to her attendants about the stiffness and pain in her right arm. Apparently, however, Chino had already anticipated precisely that.

Her attendants, who had already received instructions from her mother, gave her a merciless reply.

“Do not worry, Princess. The mistress said you will not be using a hiōgi today.”

“I-Is that so? (Tch!)”

(Did she just click her tongue?)

“She said we should bring the spearhead bells instead.”

“Wha—those are far heavier! If I have to dance while swinging something like that around, my arm will fall off!”

“I’m sure nothing like that will happen. After all, we were told to tie the spearhead bells to your hand with a cord.”

“What…?”

Ignoring the astonished princess, the attendants briskly continued preparing her. Before she knew it, she had been changed into her practice clothes and the spearhead bells had been tied securely to her hand.

“Saki, Natsume. Did you not hear me? My arm is—”

“Apparently there is a great deal of laundry because of that sudden rain the other day.”

“And everyone would be troubled if it started raining now. Come, we should hurry.”

With one attendant on either side practically carrying her by the arms, Princess Kana was dragged toward the dance practice hall.

Five days after Akomachi’s visit, Yasutomi’s divine messengers, Fūka and Ruka, delivered a message from Akomachi.

“I shall come in three days.”

(A special fox and Onmyōdō techniques?! The world truly is coming to an end if the gods are going to pamper some little girl merely because she possesses slightly stronger divine power than most. Something that special ought rightfully to be given to me! If only Father had not died four years ago in the first place…)

Kōtokui Tomonobu ground his teeth in bitter frustration. Until only four years earlier, the position of head of the Bureau of Onmyō had belonged to the Kōtokui family. But when his father, Tomotsuta, suddenly died, everything had been seized by the Tsuchimikado family in the blink of an eye.

And all simply because Tomonobu, the heir, was still too young. Yet at only seven years old at the time, Tomonobu had been powerless to voice any objection.

At present, the Kōtokui family barely managed to provide one of the two Deputy Directors of Onmyō who assisted the bureau chief, but even that official was merely responsible for advising southern temples and shrines, such as Kōfuku-ji, on auspicious dates and times.

As for Tomonobu himself, despite finally becoming a prospective trainee two years earlier, he was treated no differently from any of the other candidates.

Although the Kōtokui family’s original ancestor had been an Abe, their founder, Tomoyuki, had been adopted into the Kamo family, and so they were customarily regarded as part of the Kamo lineage.

Even so, when Tomokage, two generations before Tomonobu, had held the position of head of the Bureau of Onmyō, there had apparently still been a few members of the family who were granted divine messengers.

Then perhaps, if he distinguished himself, he too might someday be granted one. And if that happened, then in the future the family might once again… Holding on to that hope, Tomonobu had devoted himself to training for the past two years.

When Yasumasa, who was younger than him, received divine messengers one year earlier, Tomonobu had convinced himself that it was only because Yasumasa was heir to the Tsuchimikado family.

But this time was different. Merely because she was a princess of the Tsuchimikado family, a girl far younger than himself was going to receive foxes. And she was even going to be taught Onmyōdō techniques. Tomonobu simply could not accept it.

(If only I could at least be given an opportunity to demonstrate my excellence before Lady Akomachi…)

He was absolutely confident that if he could, she would take notice of him.

For a moment, he even considered challenging Princess Kana and asking that the divine messenger be awarded to whichever of them won. But Akomachi herself had deliberately chosen the messenger for Princess Kana in the first place. The moment he said he wanted it for himself, he would obviously incur Akomachi’s displeasure.

Worse still, Yasutomi might seize upon the matter as a pretext to place the Kōtokui family at a disadvantage. If that happened, even what they still possessed might be taken from them. Tomonobu absolutely wanted to avoid that.

(Damn it. If only Father were still alive…)