by C. J. Anaya
“At that time, Amatsu-Mikaboshi was one of the noblest of our First Parent’s creations. He felt that his role of welcoming souls into the afterlife was something only a minor kami should be in charge of. He mentioned his grievances with our First Parents, but of course they knew which kami were best suited for which tasks. They created them, after all. Dissatisfied with this, Amatsu began to seek out the powers of creation himself. He wanted to build worlds and have kami of his own to influence and order about.”
I listened intently, realizing that this part was all new to me.
“He lacked the knowledge to create kami the way our First Parents had, and so he began experimenting on humans.”
“Kenji, I’ve never heard this part of our history before.”
“That, my dear, is because it is not common knowledge. It wasn’t anything our First Parents wanted other kami to attempt.”
“Then how did you come across this information?”
“In your father’s library, to be quite honest. There are several tomes there, ancient records of creation and kami history that I’ve never seen anywhere else. I assume they were placed there long ago by the very first emperor of this land and then forgotten over the ages.”
“What were these experiments the demon god performed?” Akane interjected.
“To put it simply, Amatsu wasn’t interested in turning mortals into kami through the use of his own ki. He might have lost his own immortality by slowly healing humans. There was no guarantee that the humans would accept the change, and the process would have taken much too long either way. He decided to find out what would happen if he had them drink his blood.”
“His blood? I don’t understand how that would do anything?”
“Kami blood holds life altering properties. Legends of the fountain of youth can be traced back to the idea that immortality is achieved through a magical elixir gifted from the gods. A kami’s blood contains particles of their ki. Intelligent organisms that are capable of changing the chemical properties of one’s blood. Once imbibed and bonded to a human, their blood is changed from one of mortal to that of an immortal within seconds.”
I began to feel a sinking sensation within my stomach. “What do you mean bonded?”
Kenji rubbed the back of his neck. I sensed he was beginning to link my story and his explanation together and didn’t like where our conclusions were taking us.
“Once a kami’s blood enters a human’s bloodstream it will do very little to benefit the body unless the blood is bonded to the humans’ through another kami’s instruction, but this can only be done by someone capable of connecting to another’s ki and…” Kenji trailed off. The process he explained was disturbingly similar to the healing I had shared. “By the gods, Mikomi, your father is creating his own kami, and using you to bond his blood to theirs.”
“Not just his own kami,” Akane whispered, “his own army of kami. With all of his soldiers benefiting from this elixir we’ll be fighting a full militia of kami by the end of the year, and no weapon on this earth will be capable of killing them.” She looked to me, eyes wide with terror. “If he succeeds, we’ll never accomplish our mission to overthrow the emperor. We’ll never survive this war.”
“It’s far worse than that, I’m afraid.” Kenji worried the knob of his cane with both hands. “This battle between you and the emperor is a minor annoyance compared to the battle he is most likely planning once Mikomi ascends as a full kami and marries Katsu.”
“What are you saying, Kenji?” I asked.
“With you gone, there will be no reason for the rest of the major kami to allow him to rule this empire. He’s going to attempt what Amatsu tried to accomplish in the very beginning.”
“What’s that, exactly?” Akane asked.
But I had a very good idea. I felt sick inside as his words dredged up pictures of bloody battles and the complete destruction of the empire.
Kenji chewed on his lower lip before reluctantly answering.
“World domination.”
There was silence as all three of us tried to digest this new revelation. I sensed hopelessness and fear from Akane, and then a wonderful, resilient sense of determination. Her emotions evolved into that a truly hardened warrior. She stubbornly refused to wallow in her fear for too long. I admired her courage, though I felt it might be wasted on a lost cause.
Kenji’s emotions covered a wide spectrum of worry and fear for Saigo and myself. I wasn’t surprised that his feelings didn’t reek of selfish fear or pity for himself. Kenji was too good to think of himself when those he loved were endangered. The guards hadn’t been privy to the details of our conversation, and I was happy they had been spared the worry. They were good men with enough on their plate.
“What do we do?” I finally asked.
“How many men were in the room drinking this concoction? Do you remember?” he asked.
I shook my head. “There were several other men in the room. I can’t remember the exact number.”
“One thing is certain, child. He will need to call upon your services again in order to bond his blood to these other soldiers. What exactly did you do when the bonding took place?”
I thought back for a moment. “I was trying to understand what exactly the foreign entities were, and when I reached out with my ki to touch them, that’s when they bonded.”
“Will it be possible for you to heal the emperor’s men without having any contact with those foreign elements?” Akane asked.
“I can certainly try. It will be difficult since their blood is saturated with the emperor’s, and any healings that take place may need instructions for intelligences within the bloodstream. If I have to heal severe bleeding or internal bleeding, there may be no way of avoiding them.”
Kenji nodded. “Do the best you can, child. The emperor is going to use your skills as frequently as he can before the day of your ascension. If you can undermine his plans without him being the wiser, we may be able to avert this eventual disaster.”
“This will be a good opportunity to continue searching the minds of his minions. If you find anything of value, please send me a message immediately.” Akane placed a hand on my arm. “Make sure you are careful, though. If your father truly plans to rebel against our First Parents like this, then it is clear he will not hesitate to harm you if you get in his way.”
“He won’t get rid of me. He needs me to heal the veil. If Amatsu is able to free himself and join us in this realm, my father will be facing some rather fierce competition. He needs me alive, and he can’t kill me, anyway. My immortality ensures that he can’t, but you are right in assuming that he will do much worse if he feels I have fought against him.”
“He cannot find out, then.”
“No.” I grabbed her hand in mine. “He cannot.”
We heard a scuffling noise from a building behind us. Akane quickly dropped her hand and pulled her katana from its saya. Musubi appeared from one of the ruins, throwing broken pieces of rock along the ground as he went. He fixed his eyes on Akane’s defensive stance, and a wry smile sprang to his lips.
“Expecting trouble, are we?” he said as he approached our gathering.
“Just being hyper vigilant. Something you taught me years ago.” Akane sheathed her sword and gave him a long-suffering look. “Though I sometimes wonder if a battle with the emperor’s men is preferable to that of dealing with you and your brooding moods.”
Musubi wrapped a playful arm around Akane, leaving me feeling slightly jealous. “I never brood, nor do I have moods. Now, what are you doing here, Akane? Planning to watch our training session? Or are you feeling rusty and in need of some review?”
Akane spun under Musubi’s arm. “I promised myself I would never suffer another one of your torturous training sessions, Musubi, and I meant it. She’s all yours.” Akane nodded toward me and then gave me a wink. She sprinted to her horse, leaping upon it quickly and barreling away as if she were afraid he might force her to stay and partic
ipate.
“I’ll be over here, Mikomi, reading my life away.” Kenji patted my arm and turned toward a broken building that looked as if it might offer some considerable shade. He lifted a small satchel from the earth and gingerly moved away.
I had tried to avoid eye contact with Musubi ever since his approach, knowing full well I would become flustered and crippled by my emotional and physical response to him, but it couldn’t be helped as he walked closer and then stood right before me. I met his gaze with trepidation.
He misunderstood the reason for my look when he let out a mischievous chuckle and said, “You are right to fear this session, Mikomi, for I have no intention of going easy on you.” His gaze traveled the length of me, and my body shivered in response. “After all,” he continued, placing a warm hand at my waist, “Akane did say you were all mine.”
Now both of his hands were at my waist, pulling me closer as I fought to contain my response to him. He gave me one last lingering look before a naughty glint pierced his eye. Before I knew what was happening, my kimono had been unwrapped, stripped from my person, and thrown to the floor at my feet. My black body suit hugged my curves. I felt heat creep up my neck and blossom along my face.
He surveyed me with immense satisfaction as I sputtered for some kind of reprimand. His emotions, for once, were void of the anger I was so used to. “I tell you, Mikomi, I could live to see a thousand more moons and never ever tire of ripping your clothes off.” He took in my fierce expression and let out a boisterous laugh.
Little did he know, a part of me would never tire of it either.
Chapter Twelve
“Today we are going to take a small break from your katana and focus on methods you can use for self-defense if ever you must go hand to hand with your enemy,” Musubi said as we stood facing one another. “I hope there will never be a situation in which I am not there to protect you, but if such occasion should arise, you must be prepared not only to be on the offensive but on the defensive as well.”
He paused for a moment, and I nodded that I understood. He continued, “Mastering fighting techniques can be a long, grueling process because most people are unable to tune in to their own inner energy or ki.”
My ears pricked at this. “What do you mean exactly?”
“Many individuals are unable to recognize that the art of defending oneself is not simply a physical show of prowess, but more importantly a mental one. Your ki, the most powerful part of your true self, rests within your hara or center, and your center,” he said, coming closer and resting his hand against my lower abdomen, “is just two inches below the navel. This is also your center of gravity.”
I swallowed hard as the warmth of his hands seeped through my thin undergarment. He must have felt the heat as well. I felt a sharp emotional shock pulse through him, and then he rapidly pulled his hand away. He seemed to need a moment to recover himself before he could speak, and he avoided making eye contact with me. I was relieved. I was sure if he had wanted to, he would have found my feelings for him written all over my face.
“It is important that we fuse both physical and mental energies together, and bridge that gap between mind and body so that both are working harmoniously with one another. It is a difficult thing for many to do, but it’s necessary if you are to master total control.” He took two steps back and faced me, finally looking at me, his face an indifferent mask. “To develop the mental skills necessary for controlling your body you must work on a process called centralization. You must focus on the subjective at first. Any troubles you are experiencing or worries and problems you have yet to resolve will be looked at dispassionately, almost as if you are viewing them from behind a screen. They are present but separate. I want you to close your eyes, think of one problem you have yet to resolve, and consider it without allowing it to affect your emotions.”
I did as he asked, and the first problem to pop into my mind dealt solely with my father. I wanted his love and acceptance and had never found a way to earn it. The memories brought pain and bitterness to my heart, but I did my best to push those feelings aside and look at my problem subjectively.
From an outsider’s point of view, one would look at the situation and recognize that the emperor had never been interested in being a father but in gaining power. I was a pawn. I had already acknowledged this time and time again, but the fact remained it ate at me and my own feelings of self-worth.
However, to look at it dispassionately, I realized that all of those years I spent seeking approval had been wasted on a man who had never sought for my love and approval in the first place, but who relished in the power and control he had over me and everyone else in his life. It made no sense to feel worthless when my father’s idea of worth was based upon the amount of power he held within his hands.
I had never been strong enough, capable enough or honorable enough in his eyes, but for all the things I valued and the characteristics I treasured, my own beliefs, actions and character, by definition, made me strong enough, capable enough and more than honorable enough to be The Healer.
I am The Healer, and my father is not.
The moment I accepted my own identity and worth I felt a strange clarity click into place. I opened my eyes and looked at Musubi as he studied me with a commanding intensity. I wasn’t sure how he knew that I was ready, but this connection between us might have had something to do with it.
“Very good,” he said. “It usually takes students much longer to accomplish that first step. Now, the next type of centralization is objective. You’ve centered yourself internally, and now you must keep a clear and centered view of what is happening around you. You must be as impartial with circumstances surrounding you as you are with the internal conflict you just dealt with. For example,” he held his arms out presenting himself, “what do you see when you look at me?”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was a trick question. I couldn’t respond the way I wanted to. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to tell Musubi that I saw a handsome warrior, deeply troubled by his past. I couldn’t tell him I saw a man I wished to love and take care of, a man whose future could be bright if he allowed me to heal what, within his past, had been broken.
I self-consciously cleared my throat as I realized I had been staring for far too long without giving a response.
“I see a tall, armed man.”
Musubi pulled his sword from his saya and crouched forward with the sword held above his head. “And if a man such as I were to come at you with a sword, what would you see?”
I swallowed. “I would see a wicked blade, an intimidating aggressor and a skilled warrior I couldn’t possibly overcome.”
Musubi dropped his stance and pointed his sword to the ground. “I am merely an object in motion, Mikomi. No matter my size, strength or intimidating presence, an object in motion can always be effectively neutralized so long as you do not allow what you may perceive as threatening to hypnotize your mind and emotions. Without the power of your mind you cannot efficiently direct the power of your body. Your thoughts and perceptions cannot be affected by how I appear. You remain centralized so when an opponent attacks you, you can maintain impartiality, recognizing that your aggressor is simply an object in motion.”
“Are you telling me you’re not an intimidating figure when brandishing a sword?” I was trying to tease him and lighten the mood. For some reason this session felt more emotionally charged than the others had, though it was less physical in nature. I was uncomfortable with Musubi’s direct look constantly piercing my faked indifference toward him. There was a strange tension building between us, and I wanted to scream as loudly as possible in order to break it.
Musubi’s lips quirked into a smile. “I will always be an intimidating figure, but it is my job to train you to look past all that.”
“And what do you see when you look at me?” I teased again. I bent low into the same position he had and brandished my imaginary sword.
“A beautiful, capabl
e woman.” He said it without a pause, and based on his emotional response to hearing his own words, he wasn’t very happy with himself. Still, he kept his eyes on mine.
I slowly stood. Bringing my arms to my sides, I tried for another joke. “Well, with that glowing recommendation, I certainly won’t be intimidating anyone on the battlefield.”
Musubi dropped his sword and approached me. His frustration with himself and his reaction toward me was palpable at this point. He couldn’t seem to find his own center, and his guard remained lowered, unleashing his intense feelings. It felt as if he closed the distance between us against his will, like some invisible line had connected us both, reeling him forward despite his own internal battle. He placed a hand at my waist, and lifted the other to softly brush a strand of hair from my forehead.
“On the contrary,” he said in a hoarse voice, “there is nothing in this world more intimidating than a beautiful, capable woman.”
My breathing felt slightly labored as the emotions we were both trying to repress began to intensify. My feet stayed firmly glued to the grassy blanket beneath me, but I wanted to turn and run away before this unbearably charged tension between us overcame my good sense, forcing me to lose all inhibitions and throw myself into his arms.
Musubi’s wall had crumbled, and he was like an open book now. He couldn’t have thrown up any walls against my empathic abilities even if he had wanted to, and I was grateful—grateful to know that I wasn’t the only one who felt this pull, this overwhelming connection we shared. Grateful to know I wasn’t the only one affected by our time spent together. It was knowledge I never would have gleaned otherwise, not with Musubi’s ability to become cold and indifferent.
He fought it, though. His desire for me became overshadowed by a dark anger that seemed to penetrate whatever light our connection brought to the surface. I knew the exact moment when that anger snapped our connection in half because Musubi was able to take a step back, and my ki cringed at the backlash our severed connection produced.
