[Senkumo Saga: Book of Blossoming]: She Who Reaps the Weeds

Bishamon's voice called out to the shocked and confused Tsukiakari as they traversed the deathly quiet and ruined streets of Kyoto, the battle raging on in the distance. The small and timid Tsukiakari felt like she was walking right below a menacing mass of black thunderclouds as she gazed up at Bishamon's tall and powerful stature. His voice, calm and stern, called out to her as she trailed behind him, occasionally dashing her eyes away from the corpses littering the streets.

“Tsukiakari, is it,” Bishamon asked, breaking the silence.

“Y-yes..," she timidly replied.

“What a coincidence. You're Amaterasu's daughter. Or...you were. I heard you ran away from Heaven soon after Tsukuyomi's trial. I suppose it's more honorable to excommunicate yourself than to be banished. You are a stray god with no protection. Am I right?”

Tsukiakari, having been seen through like cellophane, found no need to answer.

“You're...Bishamonten, right? I've seen you in Heaven a few times. What do you...”

“What do I hold dominion over," Bishamon asked, completing her question.

“Yes..," she whispered.

“The calamity we detest and pray for at the same time –– war. I, Bishamon, am the god of war,” he proudly declared.

Tsukiakari stopped in her tracks, holding her hands to her mouth as her fearful eyes scanned Bishamon's expressionless face. Her heart wrestled itself within her, thumping around like a war drum.

“God of war? I didn't even know there was such a thing...”

“There is much that your mother did not tell you, because...well, you're so young.”

“Did you do all of this? Did you start this war," she asked with a trembling voice.

“This chaos is not my doing. Rather, this carnage before you is my calling.” The god of war knelt before Tsukiakari, wrapping his crimson, wool scarf around her neck.

“You see, neither the divine world nor the mortal world are peaceful,” Bishamon began. “Humans kill each other, and gods kill each other was well. Right now, the mortals are experiencing a time of great upheaval, and all it took was the mere birth of a child. Now the commanders and deputies of the shogunate are fighting each other. As the god of war, it’s my responsibility to answer the prayers of those who seek to eradicate their foes,"

“You can't stop it? My mother said that to kill is the vilest thing you can ever do! Shouldn't we gods be preventing humans from doing this to themselves," Tsukiakari questioned, hoping to reaffirm what she had been taught. 

 
“There is a bigger picture here, Tsukiakari, one that I hope you will see in time. I plan to turn this time of strife into something fruitful for both Heaven and Earth. I have great things planned for both of our worlds...and for you.”

“Me," Tsukiakari curiously asked.

“As I said, you're a stray god, Tsukiakari. Heaven will not protect you, and because you're so young, no one here will even pray to you. Come with me. I can give you the protection you need during these times, as well as a family I'm sure you'll love. Have you heard of the Senkumo clan?”

Tsukiakari shook her head side to side.

“I'm not surprised. We're still a very new clan. However...there will come a time when the whole country will know our names. Just as the name Senkumo implies, there are war clouds drifting over this ancient land, carrying an even greater storm than any of us could possibly imagine. Trust me. You will not want to be alone when that storm comes.”

Bishamon placed his index finger and thumb in his mouth, producing a loud whistle in the middle of the thick, ashen haze. The distant neigh of a horse rang out from ahead, as if it was responding to Bishamon’s call. Tsukiakari stepped forth as her eyes caught a glimpse of amber light through the smoke and ash. Bishamon extended his hand in front of her, stopping her from stepping any further.

“Careful. He’s easily startled by strangers.,” Bishamon warned.

Rhythmic tapping of a horse’s hooves grew closer along with the amber light, until a pale horse emerged into view, its hair and tail enwreathed in gentle flames. The horse stopped in front of the two deities, waiting for them to hop onto its leather saddle. Bishamon caressed the horse’s head as thanks for its unyielding loyalty. He glanced over at Tsukiakari, noticing the sparkle in her glossy eyes.

“Is this your first time seeing a horse," he asked.

“He’s on fire," Tsukiakari exclaimed, pointing at the beast. “It’s not like I’ve never seen a horse before!”

“Oh, of course! You’ve just never seen a fiery horse,” Bishamon chuckled. “He’s been in service to me for over a hundred years. Have you ever ridden a horse before, Tsukiakari?”

“N-no…” she replied softly.

“Well then, it seems today is a day full of firsts,” Bishamon quipped as he lifted the goddess by her armpits, plopping her on top of the saddle.

Bishamon hopped onto the saddle as well, taking the black, leather reins into his hands. Tsukiakari looked around at the ground below, feeling a small bout of vertigo building up within her. She threw her arms around Bishamon without thinking, feeling safer with something to cling to for balance. With a snap of the reins, the horse carried the two through the ruined streets with an ambling gait.

“This country is changing, Tsukiakari. Generations of feudal servitude have created what you see before you. This country’s system created men like Sozen Yamana and Katsumoto Hosokawa. They’re not the only ones seeking power at all costs,” Bishamon explained. “Many more like them will rise and war with each other until this city is nothing but cinders. I founded the Senkumo clan just a few months ago, sometime after Yoshihisa Ashikaga was born. I pulled in some money and recruits, all to realize a certain vision.”

The horse entered a gallop as it reached wider roads. The haze of ash and smoke thinned out as Bishamon guided them out of Kyoto. For the first time that day, Tsukiakari could see the bright, morning sun shining all around. She could barely see the distant soldiers clashing as Bishamon’s horse raced through Kyoto’s outskirts and escaped through its city limits. The horrific sounds of screaming and the crackle of raging fire were soon replaced with the tranquil birdsong of the lush, green groves overlooking Kyoto.

Bishamon brought the horse to a brief stop, allowing Tsukiakari to see the flaming, smoke-covered city from a distance. The fires raging below were so intense that the resulting clouds of smoke benighted Kyoto in a deep darkness.

Tsukiakari stared with wide eyes at the veil of shade and ash that cloaked the city. The grove they stopped at was only a few miles away from the city, and yet, the difference was night and day. Small sparrows traversed the lattice of twisting tree branches above their heads, while a gentle breeze slithered through the blades of grass below.

“In wars like these, Tsukiakari, the victor obtains his desired lordship, only to find that lordship’s sole reward is a desecrated capital and a meaningless throne," Bishamon observed. “When I founded the Senkumo, I dreamt of a community unbound by these avaricious desires. I imagined an army that didn’t have to throw their lives away for the insatiable greed of a daimyo. As such, the Senkumo clan has no daimyo, and we swear no loyalty to the Shogun, nor the emperor.”

“But then…who are you loyal to,” Tsukiakari asked, intrigued by the lordless structure of Bishamon’s clan.

“Gods,” he sternly replied.

Bishamon snapped his reins again, turning away from the city. The horse softly ambled through the cool, breezy grove, heading into mostly unsettled territory. For every occasional peasant house, there were many more rolling hills and majestic mountains. Following the flow of a small creek, the horse led them into a forest, where the trees provided green-tinted shade from the sun.

“I purchased some land further southwest and built a base there. A few hundred troops live there. In time, we’ll be able to expand and build bigger bases across the country. We’ll be a recognizable force on the battlefield and a superpower to rival that of both Japan and Heaven. For now, we start small.”

They continued on their tranquil journey for over four hours, passing through low-density woodlands until emerging into a region of flat plains, where crops and marshes were abundant. The lapping wind combed through large, distant fields of rice stalks like invisible fingers through hair. The early afternoon sun glared off of the dewy blades of tall grass surrounding the dirt road their horse ambled down. Tsukiakari silently marveled at the expanse of crops and open fields, still hanging on to Bishamon all the while.

Once they passed through the plantations, they found themselves in a mostly flat area again, the grass decorated with a multitude of colorful shrubs and the occasional, blooming cherry tree. A belt of tree-covered hillocks running parallel to the road helped obscure their destination. Bishamon, knowing the region as well as he knew his horse, called out to Tsukiakari.

“Still awake, princess? We’ve almost arrived,” he said.

The Senkumo base Bishamon spoke of came into view as the horse trotted along the road. First, Tsukiakari saw the white, granite walls of the base towering above her head. She noticed several men stationed on top of the walls, all of them wearing identical, black robes. Charged with keeping watch over the surrounding land, the men on the walls entered into a chain of calls and responses as they spotted their lord, Bishamon.

“It’s Lord Bishamon! Open the gates,” one of them shouted.

The wooden gate stood as tall and mighty as the walls, slowly creaking open as the entrance guards strenuously pulled it open from the other side. Once the horse passed through the gates, another series of shouts rang out across the walls, ordering the entrance to be shut again. The eight guards on the ground wore plates of leather chest armor over their black robes.

Upon Bishamon’s arrival, they snapped their feet together, stood with their backs straight, and planted the base of their spears into the ground, the blades pointing skyward. They then bowed their heads, a standard salute for the return of their superior.

“Welcome home, Lord Bishamon,” they all chanted in unison.

“At ease, gentlemen. Did anything happen in my absence,” Bishamon asked as he stopped his horse.

“Nothing new to report, my lord. We kept the fort locked down since you left,” one of the soldiers replied with a clear, projected tone.

“Good to hear. Shift cycles with the third guard team and have some lunch. You all look tired,” Bishamon commanded, to the relief of the guards.

With a final salute, the guards departed from the walls, slowly walking deeper into the base. Tsukiakari caught glimpses of their tired, sweating faces and groomed beards. Now that they were inside the walls, she also noticed plenty of women roaming about the base, many of them still in their teens. Realizing they were standing on a paved road lined with granite stones, Tsukiakari’s eyes followed the straight path down to a cluster of bonsai trees, each one encircled by more stones.

Even more young girls could be seen ahead, tending to the trees and the rainbow of flowers growing in the soil beds of the courtyards. The courtyard sat between two large, multi-storied mansions like a partition of sorts. The exteriors of these mansions consisted of white walls lined heavily with bright red support beams. Multiple tiers of dark, pagoda rooftops provided shade and gave the facilities a wondrous, yet intimidating appearance.

Bishamon leapt off of the horse, then lifted Tsukiakari off of the saddle, plopping her onto her feet. She stepped forward, looking around in silent wonder at all of the people united under a single banner, tending to various tasks around the base.

While the girls tended to the courtyard and gathered ingredients for meals, the men fastened their armor and polished their blades. Some of the younger boys and girls either sat around the base or chased their friends around the fields of freshly cut grass in the gardens. Tsukiakari suddenly felt Bishamon’s hand lightly slap her in the back, startling her out of her trance.

“Welcome to the War Cloud," Bishamon saluted, walking along towards the third mansion, opposite from the entrance. “Come inside, princess. We have some things to discuss.”
Bishamon led the stray goddess into the mansion’s third floor, where his sanctuary was located. The sanctuary was just a large room with polished wooden floors, and rows of windows on the left and right sides. Other than that, there was almost no furniture featured. With all of the open space, Tsukiakari could easily imagine several hundred people standing in the sanctuary at the same time.

Bishamon sat cross-legged on a cushion, in front of a golden statue of himself assuming the same sitting position. Smoke trails from incense sticks at the statue’s base floated up and dissipated into the air, creating a thick, indoor haze. Tsukiakari noticed the hanging scroll behind the statue, depicting the name Senkumo in kanji, as well as an oil painting of three, crimson clouds. Landscape paintings decorated the walls to Tsukiakari's left, depicting rolling green hills and cherry trees bearing blossoming buds.

“You hardly said a word on the journey here,” Bishamon said. “What you did in Kyoto still lingers over you.”

“…Mom said it was wrong to kill anyone. That’s what she taught me. Even worse, those were humans I killed,” Tsukiakari replied with downcast eyes.

Bishamon’s lips parted open, but they soon closed again as he carefully considered his words. “I’ve heard about your father. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

Tsukiakari lowered her head as tears blurred her vision. “He’s not a monster. He’s not evil. He’s my dad.”

“Tsukiakari, why did you come down to Earth? Why flee from your home, from your mother?”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to weep, tears running down her cheeks. She had the answer to Bishamon’s question sitting on her tongue, but they were far too painful and humiliating to say aloud. Instead, Tsukiakari loosened the neck of her robes, revealing the dark bruises around her throat left by her mother’s hands.

“Amaterasu…did she do that to you," Bishamon asked, getting a nod from Tsukiakari. “Are there more?”

Her tears continued to rain down upon the tatami mats as she slowly untied the rope belt around her robes and let them fall from her shoulders. She covered her chest with her arm and her privates with her left hand, revealing to Bishamon the myriad of bruises and scars painted across her body, from head to toe.

Bishamon gazed at her body in horrified astonishment. “Those are all from your mother?”

“It would…help her feel better," Tsukiakari sobbed. “So, I didn’t tell anyone.”

Bishamon closed his eyes, having seen much more than he was prepared for. “You don’t have to say anymore, Tsukiakari. It’s okay. Put your robes back on.”

She picked her robes off of the floor, her hands quivering as she dressed herself back up again. She couldn’t bear to look Bishamon in the eye. Her chest began to ache as she wept before him. Her eyes stung and her throat constricted and burned.

“There just aren’t any words, Tsukiakari. I’m sorry," Bishamon said. “I see how much you loved your parents. The wounds on your neck look the most recent. Your mother must’ve come close to killing you.”

Tsukiakari nodded. “Yes…”

Bishamon sighed. “Well, even if you wanted to, there’s no going back home once you flee. I’m glad I ran into you earlier. Tsukiakari, I don’t mean for this to sound insensitive, but you must understand the enormous amount of pressure your mother has been under. Not just recently, but throughout her entire life. Every single god in Heaven has depended on her to make every tough decision for them. It doesn’t excuse everything she’s done to you, and perhaps you’re too young to understand this. Just know that your mother does not hate you. I just don’t think she realizes how lucky she is to have a daughter that would do this much to protect her. You did nothing wrong.”

His words consoled her enough to stop her crying. She wiped the tears from her reddened eyes, raising her head slightly. She still wasn’t ready to meet his gaze directly, but just her change in posture indicated he was making progress.

“You didn’t do anything wrong back there in the city, either. Those two men would’ve killed you. Murder isn’t something you see very often in Heaven, but here? It’s an everyday occurrence. Your mother said that killing is wrong. What she meant was that it was wrong to commit murder in Heaven. Those aren’t the same rules for Japan.”

Tsukiakari remained silent, but her eyes widened in curiosity. Seeing the light return in her eyes, Bishamon continued. “There’s going to be a war in this country unlike any that has come before. If we don’t do something about it, this nation is doomed. Now, it’s too late to stop the war from happening. It’s already broken out and it’s going to get worse. However, as I explained to you, I have a plan that will save this nation in the long run. And so, Tsukiakari, I'd like you to join us.” 

“You mean the Senkumo clan?”

“Yes. Most of our members were orphaned and left homeless by the war. They’ve all come here to bring this plan to fruition. We’re going to create a new nation, Tsukiakari. It will not be lead by the shogun, nor the emperor. It will be led by us, by gods. If you join us, you’ll have a place to stay, so you’re not just out in the streets.”

“Are you going to fight in the war," Tsukiakari asked.

“War is not like murder, Tsukiakari. It’s not personal. It’s not evil or cruel. War is a battle between ideas more than it is between humans. When you go out on a battlefield, every man across the field from you will be trying to kill you, just like those two men tried to earlier.”

“I can’t do that again…” Tsukiakari lamented.

Bishamon nodded as he stroked his beard, meditating on his next words. “Do you know why I fight, Tsukiakari?”

Tsukiakari shook her head.

“Because all these people within these walls depend on me. I fight because they’ve entrusted their livelihoods to me. They chose to believe in my cause and believe in me. By going out there and fighting the enemy, I’m protecting them. I’m ensuring they can live another day. We are all suffering this war right now, but we do it to create our ideal nation, so we can all be safe later. It is not hatred that drives the Senkumo clan, but love.”

Bishamon had her undivided attention. Before she realized it, she sat up straight with her eyes focused squarely on his.

“We cannot replace your mother and father. I know that," Bishamon said. “However, if you take the time to get to know these people, to live among them, I know they’ll come to love you even more fiercely than you love your mom and dad.”
That was everything Tsukiakari wanted, the simple gift of love. She wiped her teary eyes with her sleeves as Bishamon stood from his cushion.
“There is no need to worry, Tsukiakari.” Bishamon assured. “I’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know.
Bishamon stood before her, holding a sheathed blade in his hand. He pulled the golden longsword out of its scabbard, using his powers to enwreathe it in flames.

“From this day forth, you will be my disciple. He ominously declared. “It will not be easy. It takes blood to build a nation, but if you give the Senkumo your trust, it will, in turn, give its trust to you.”
He lowered his fiery sword just above Tsukiakari's head, where she could feel the heat loom over her hair, then travel to her shoulders. Then, it was gone. The blade was sheathed, and her head cooled down again. Bishamon smiled as he patted her head, messing up her hair like an annoying father figure.

“Do you accept this duty, hallowed war goddess,” he asked with a smile.
After having fled from Heaven and fleeing the conflict embroiling Kyoto, Tsukiakari wondered what choice she really had. She could think of no safer place to be than within those sovereign walls, safeguarded from the violence outside.

“I accept.” Tsukiakari said with her head bowed.

Shown to her room, Tsukiakari timidly knocked on the sliding door, excusing herself as she stepped inside. The room was much like Bishamon's, albeit smaller and without the aroma of incense saturating the air. Three girls dressed neatly in black yukatas brushed each other's hair as Tsukiakari's entrance summoned their glances towards her. 

How odd, she thought.

The first girl was the tallest. She sat in the front while her black hair was being brushed by a girl shorter than her with shoulder-length, brown hair. The second girl’s hair was being brushed by a shorter, silver-haired girl. The third girl’s hair radiated as if she wore strands of threaded moonlight on her head. She couldn't have been much older than Tsukiakari, in terms of appearance. 

Tsukiakari turned beet-red just staring at the three, as if she had walked in on them committing some odd, pagan ritual or group suicide. Still, she mustered together a string of awkwardly put together words in an attempt to say hello.

“Uhh...he...hello...what are your…” Tsukiakari mumbled.

In order from largest to smallest, the girls introduced themselves. The black haired beauty with green eyes and an 'elder sister' air around her introduced herself without so much as a smile or a blink.

“Taeko Senkumo, sixteen years old, born in Kyoto. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Then, the smaller girl with the brown hair and sapphire-blue eyes spoke after her.

“Mayumi Senkumo, fifteen years old, also born in Kyoto! A pleasure to meet you!” she said in a much more lively tone than Taeko.

Then spoke the little girl with the beautifully long, silver hair and hazel eyes. She spoke with a raspy and timid voice, but introduced herself well, nonetheless.

“Ebina Senkumo. Twelve years old. Kyoto-born. A pleasure.”

“Uhm...Ebina? How do you write that," Tsukiakari asked with embarrassment. 

“Ah, it's not a common name, so I understand the confusion. Ebina is…”

“Ebina is written with the characters for Ocean, Old Age, and Vegetable," Taeko rudely interrupted with a lighthearted smile.

“Taeko, please do not interrupt me in front of our new guest. I can talk for myself," Ebina calmly replied.

“Taeko! You ruined her introduction," Mayumi groaned.

“What? Come on, I was just looking out for her," Taeko replied defensively.

“As I said, I can speak for myself. When will you learn, sis," Ebina nagged.

“Never, apparently," Mayumi concluded.

Dark clouds loomed over Taeko's head for her awful mistake. A crisis concerning her roll in life dawned upon her as her eyes went dark and gloomy. Was she taking her role as their elder too far? Should she have shut up and let the girl introduce herself properly? All these and more weighed on her heart and soul, for she only yearned to be the perfect sister figure. How tragic.

“Anyway, what's your name," Mayumi asked, breaking the ice with a slight smile.

“Oh! It's Tsukiakari! I suppose I'll be Tsukiakari Senkumo from now on. Please take good care of me!”

A lady of politesse, Tsukiakari bowed before her new peers with a smile.

“Tsukiakari," Taeko repeated just for the pleasure of saying it. “What a beautiful name! Well, if you're here, I suppose we'll be roommates from now on! Please, make yourself at home and leave all your troubles to me! If you want, I’ll give you a tour of the facilities!”

Mayumi delivered a swift chop to Taeko's head, bringing her to heel like a misbehaving dog. Between Mayumi and Taeko, it was easy to tell the former was the most mature.
“Hush! It’s late, so we’re going to bed! Don’t overwhelm the new girl!” Mayumi lectured.

“Sorry..," Taeko giggled.

At long last, Tsukiakari had a place she could call home. From that night on, she proudly called herself Tsukiakari Senkumo, a war goddess in training.