Chapter 7:

Learning the basics

The Heir Of Divinity

The slow rise and fall of her chest told Ichiji that Yuki was now asleep. She lay on the floor, comfortably in her mat, close to her dad. Ichiji stood near the window, silently watching both of them.

There was a strange sort of comfort he got from watching them. One that deeply resonated in him. He couldn’t explain why he felt like this and he didn’t try to. Ichiji’s steps were deathly silent as he left the room.

Thoughts swirled in his mind. He was weak, and now people were depending on him. It’s not too late, Ichiji thought. He could always refuse, tell them that he hadn’t thought it through. That he wouldn’t be able to help them. Perhaps that was the best solution.

But a deep unease settled in his chest. Would that actually be right? To give up? Is that what Gyatso would’ve wanted for him? Is that what he owed him, as the person who had saved his life?

Think as he may, only one answer came to Ichiji’s mind: No. A deep sigh escaped his mouth. These people needed him. They needed what he could be. Who he knew he could be. He was in this now. For real, he told himself. And it would be different from the massacre. It had to be.

But there had to be change. An improvement. Ichiji’s gaze naturally fell on his amputated left arm. Channelling had always required two hands. That waswhat he thought. What was ingrained in him. What he had seen every other shaman he had known do.

Until Akagi had shattered that notion. The mere thought of him made Ichiji panic. He tried to calm himself down. Tried to remove him from his mind. Chills ran down his spine and his sweat began to cover his body as he tried desperately to calm himself down.

When his fit was over and he came to, Ichiji was on the floor of his room, covered in a cold sweat and panting like he had just exercised.

Fear. True, inescapable fear. That’s the only thing that came to his mind when thoughts of Akagi entered it. He was terrified of him, down to his very bones. “No. No. I won’t let him get to me like this.”

Ichiji accepted it. He accepted that he had utterly lost, that he was terrified. But he was going to use that fear as fuel. One day, Akagi would feel this exact same fear. He would make sure of it.

But the only way to do that was through strength. And he knew what he had to do to get it.

Sitting down and crossing his legs, Ichiji closed his eyes and began to meditate.

He started slowly. Deep breaths to calm himself down. Clearing his mind of all unnecessary thoughts. Focusing on his breaths and on his body.

Soon, Ichiji reached a deep state of focus and tranquility. And then it appeared to him.

First, a dot. Then two. After the two, three. Before he knew it, a multitude of dots were moving, spinning around each other like they were caught in their own orbits. They collapsed into each other.

A glowing white orb formed in their wake, pulsing and thrumming with energy.

Ichiji knew exactly what this was.

His soul.

Two large threads of energy split off from it. One golden, the other silver. The golden one flowed into the right side of his body, while the silver one flowed into the left, abruptly stopping at the cut arm.

His Musubi.

Seals, the hand signs required to channel the Kami, were used by circulating this energy on key points of the hand and bringing them together. Each Kami had a unique Seal, with unique circulation points.

Ichiji ran this information over in his mind, he knew all this. But how exactly was he supposed to do this one-handed?

The first step became obvious to him. With deep breaths and immense focus, he reversed the flow of his silver Musubi, withdrawing it into his chest.

He made it flow into his right arm, side by side with the golden thread. By now, sweat covered his entire body. Just flowing it down his right side was taking all of his focus.

In an instant, the two threads of energy touched. A small, bare amount of contact. A sharp, excruciating pain filled his body. He instantly left his trance-like state, vomiting blood as he did.

Just as I thought. How…how did he do it?, Ichiji thought. As he was still reeling from the pain, red light fell on his skin from the window. His eyes widened.

Ichiji turned towards the open window, the bright red sun filling his vision as it rose.

“First time in days.”

Sumida was in the doorway, looking straight at Ichiji.

“How long have you been here?” Ichiji asked, wiping the remainder of the blood from his mouth.

“Long enough. Are you okay?” Sumida asked.

“Yeah. Don’t…don’t worry about the blood. I was just figuring something out.”

“If you say so.”

He entered the room and stood at the window with Ichiji.

The two of them stood in silence, watching the red sun rise into the sky.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sumida asked. “Sure,” Ichiji responded.

“Seeing this…kind of makes you wonder. How beautiful would the real sun be? The one actually brought by Amaterasu.”

“I wonder too, to be honest. All the old texts say is that it was the best thing ever.”

Sumida nodded. While they were staying there, enjoying each other’s company,

Ichiji decided now was the best time to tell him.

“Yuki told me about the village. Mori Terumoto, Omake the Oni. Really bad guys, it seems” Ichiji said.

“Really? Ah, she can be so impatient at times. Her mom was killed by a man working for Terumoto, so she’s very passionate about anything relating to his death,” Sumida said.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. I just hope she didn’t bother you too much.”

Sumida paused for a second before continuing. “So, are you going to help us? To win back our village?”

“Yeah. Definitely,” Ichiji nodded. He was sure of himself now. “Well, in that case, I think you should have this,” Sumida said.

Ichiji turned to him, a curious look on his face. Sumida reached into his kimono, bringing out a small mound of dried up paper. Well, at least, that’s what it appeared to be.

Ichiji’s heart quickened when he realised what it was. That wasn’t ordinary paper, those were Talismans. Powerful and old. Very old. Meaning that underneath them was…

“The Chikaeshi-no-tama. How did you get this?” Ichiji asked, collecting it from him.

“It landed near you.”

“Landed?”

“Yes. As ridiculous as it sounds, a tornado carried you, dropping you outside Izumo Province, near where I was staying to treat some patients.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“A travelling doctor. Once I saw you, you were barely conscious. But you told me two things. Your name and that you needed help. Then you fell asleep. I managed to keep you alive before bringing you back to Tengoku Village.”

Things finally made sense. Now, Ichiji knew how he had gotten here. But one question still remained.

“How did you know I’m a shaman?” Ichiji asked. “Even damaged, the robes of the White Order are still recognizable.”

“We weren’t all shamans.”

“Yes. But from the fact that you came on a tornado, forgive me if I assumed you are.”

Ichiji looked at the small mound in his hands. Master Gyatso had really done everything for him. Had put all the pieces in place. It was now time for Ichiji to play.

“Well, now that the sun is up, why don’t we leave this old house?” Sumida said while stretching.

“Sure. But where are we going?”

Sumida looked at Ichiji with a mixture of incredulity and curiosity on his face.

That was soon wiped away by a smile.

“Where else? We’re going on a tour of Tengoku Village. You can’t fight for a place without seeing it, can you?”