by Fuyumi Ono
"Yes, that is true," Seiki said with an emphatic nod. Then his face grew grayer. "In any case, Taiho Sairin is an equal concern. We don't want something like this making her condition any worse."
Part III
he next day, the Ministry of Heaven made the news of Daishou's demise public. Nothing was said about the cause of death. The confusion and unease deepened. For the first time in a long time, Shishou didn't attend the Privy Council in the Imperial Court that day or the next.
Then in the evening, he suddenly showed up dead drunk in the Sesshuu Provincial Offices where Sairin ruled as Marquis, causing an uproar among the officials.
That night, Shuka and Seiki were called to the Naiden Office of the Left.
Eishuku was waiting there with the Minister of Heaven. He looked dead on his feet. He hadn't returned to the manse since the announcement of Daishou's death. And not just Eishuku. The Ministers of Heaven, Summer and Fall had been shuttling back and forth between the Naiden and Gaiden without a moment's rest. Their exhaustion was to be expected, but Shuka was not a little surprised by her husband's fatigued state.
"There were a few things we wanted to ask you about, Seiki in particular."
"Me?" said Seiki, taking his seat.
Eishuku sat down as well, his desk between them. The Taisai and Shousai were also there in the room.
"The day that the Taisai passed away, you apparently had a conversation with the Taiho, the King's brother."
Seiki blinked. "With Junkou-sama—yes. We met in Shouka Park. I'd come here with a change of clothes for Eishuku-sama. We met on the way back. We chatted briefly in one of the gazebos."
"What did you talk about?" Shuka nervously interjected. "What was on his mind? He disappeared shortly thereafter."
"And his whereabouts remain unknown. That night he left the Sankou offices with the Taishi and Taifu and briefly returned to Kaei Palace, and then left again. According to his bodyguards, he went to Choumei Palace. As he wasn't sure when he would return, he left instructions for the gates to be closed at the appointed time. He never returned to his residence. He didn't again pass through the East Palace gates. Nobody knows where he is."
Daishou's corpse bore the mark of a blow from a sword on his back, more than deep enough to kill a man under normal circumstances. But it was his blessing—or curse—to be a wizard. After being wounded so, he had still tried to escape and his assailant pursued him. Daishou had received six wounds of varying sizes. The one that ended his life seemed to have been delivered to his neck as he lay on the ground.
Eishuku grimaced as he relayed this information. "Hence the inside of Choumei Manor being splattered with blood, not to mention his room and the hallways. And yet seeing all this, the Daishiba thought it a bit odd. It seemed more than a single human body contained."
"You mean—the Taiho too—?"
"I don't know. A carpet from the main hall is missing. It's possible that he was murdered as well and his body wrapped in the carpet and removed. Perhaps he managed to rout the assassin, and then overcome by the horror of the crime, fled himself. Or he assaulted the Taishi and then killed his accomplice to silence him."
"How can you—!" Shuka exclaimed. "He is not that kind of person!"
Eishuku sighed deeply. "Shuka, there have been rumors about that he bore ill will toward His Highness."
"What?" said Shuka, her voice rising. "That's nonsense!"
"I didn't believe them myself and gave them no credence. The word was that he was jealous of his older brother's accomplishments. With His Highness appearing to falter, he decided to take advantage and something happened. I took such insinuations to be nothing more than vulgar gossip, but now—"
Eishuku didn't finish the sentence. He instead turned to Seiki. "I really do need to know what transpired between the two of you in Shouka Park. Did anything about Junkou-sama strike you as out of the ordinary?"
"No," Seiki answered, and then hesitated. "Though now that you mention it, that day he did seem a bit different than usual."
Chapter 8
It was about sundown on that calamitous day, Seiki explained. Something definitely seemed to be up. Returning from the Naiden offices of the Left, he was cutting through Shouka Park when he ran into Junkou sitting in a gazebo alongside the promenade. He appeared to be deep in thought. Seiki had hesitated greeting him, but by the same token couldn't very well pretend he wasn't there.
So he bowed and said hello, and he and Junkou exchanged salutations.
"It's been a while," Junkou said, the severe look on his face softening a little. "What brings you here?"
As the Taiho, Junkou outranked Seiki by a country mile. But Seiki had been raised by Shinshi, Junkou's mother. Since their time in Kouto together, their relationship had been quite collegial.
"Yes, it has. I'm bringing Eishuku-sama a change of clothes.
"Ah," said Junkou, his countenance clouding over. "Eishuku's been holed up there for days. He probably feels as if the weight of the world is upon his shoulders."
"He's always been a worrywart when it comes to anything involving His Highness."
Seiki smiled, as did Junkou. But then he sighed deeply and sadly. Junkou was by constitution thin as a rail. Today his complexion was even grayer than normal, lending him a somewhat forlorn look.
"Things around here would certain improve if His Highness could listen with a cool head to what Eishuku had to say. He seems to be flying off the handle more often of late."
"His Highness certainly has grown a tad impatient waiting for things to improve."
"If only that were the case," Junkou muttered under his breath. "If His Highness understood the position he's placed himself in and how that was the reason for his impatience, then I could empathize. That's not how I see things though. He's getting more on edge every day. I can't be the only one who feels this way."
"On edge?"
Junkou nodded affirmatively. "The Taiho's condition can only be because there is something wrong with the direction His Highness is headed in. And yet he stubbornly keeps forging ahead."
"Ah—well—sure—"
"To be sure, I do not think that His Highness has lapsed into criminality. But not doing wrong does not means one is doing right. If His Highness was doing the right thing, the Taiho would not be in the state she is in, and the kingdom would be governed more rationally."
"Um—" said Seiki, momentarily at a loss of how to respond. "I believe His Highness must be suffering terribly because he understands all this. His father and aunt have consulted with him over and over, even seeking out the opinions of people such as myself. And yet he still says he has faith. You could call that a kind of stubbornness as well."
Undoubtedly, up until the end of last year, Shishou had seemed to be laboring under a heavy cloud. Seiki had heard that he'd made repeated visits to the offices of the Sankou and the East Palace.
Along with Sairin, the purpose of the Sankou was to advise the king. Though the Sankou ranked below the Saiho, the Sankou was not beholding to the Saiho, and existed only to counsel and instruct the king. The frequency with which he called upon the Sankou—even in their living quarters—was proof of the distressed state of his mind.
But then he suddenly did an about-face. It happened after the New Year, as Sairin's condition was worsening and voices could be heard hear and there hazarding that this was a harbinger of worse things to come.
Seiki though about it. Then he looked up at Junkou. "You haven't perchance given the Kasho Kada you got from the Taiho to His Highness?"
Shishou's distress was, in a word, was the product of his idealism meeting its limits. He'd had every intention of leading them to the promised land, and yet the kingdom hadn't taken a single step closer to it. The Kasho Kada couldn't have led him astray. It had shown him a dream of what the kingdom should become.
Junkou nodded. "He was at his wit's end. I wanted to help him out a bit. I though the Kasho Kada would alleviate relieve some of that confusion."
&nb
sp; "His Highness didn't actually use it, did he?"
"I don't know. When I gave it to him, he seemed quite offended. Taking something from the Taiho that he had left in her care would only make him look bad. Which is why—"
"Yes, I see."
"But he did take it. I imagine in order to return it to the Taiho."
"I don't think that was the case. Shuka-sama says that when she met with the Taiho the other day, the Kasho Kada was not in her possession."
She had instead been clinging to some ugly old twig that scratched her face. It'd really been a pitiful sight, she said.
"I see. But then using the Kasho Kada must be what accounts for his change of attitude. In the nick of time, wouldn't you say?"
Seiki blinked. "Meaning what, exactly? You mean that of course the Kasho Kada confirmed His Highness's vision of the ideal world?"
"That wouldn't be possible," Junkou unexpectedly blurted out. "Or rather, because that wasn't the case, isn't that why he adopted his present attitude?"
"Huh?"
"Up to that point, he hadn't made any mistakes. He'd made the right calls all along. Frankly, it made me a bit uneasy. Will the person who never stumbles recognize it when he does, and with something as important as the governance of the kingdom?"
"Ah, yes," Seiki nodded.
Shishou had never before experienced a personal setback that was the product of his own failings. And yet being confronted with evidence of that reality, he seemed to only harden his righteous sense of conviction.
Seiki sighed, without meaning it, a heavy sigh. If Shishou couldn't recognize these setbacks for what they were, he'd be incapable of setting things right. Continuing on in this vein would deliver Shishou to his doom. To Eishuku and Shuka, he was a friend and colleague. To Seiki, he was the honored leader. They had both been raised by the same woman. And now he and Sairin were heading down a road of no return.
"How did things every get to this point? What manner of mistake could His Highness have committed?"
Junkou asked, "Seiki, have you never doubted the rightness of his course?"
Seiki pondered the question. "No, I guess not. How about yourself?"
Junkou didn't answer for a long minute. At length he gestured to his side, offering Seiki a seat. Seiki sat down in a corner of the gazebo.
Junkou said, "I've had questions about whether what he's been aiming at all this time is truly the ideal kingdom. To tell the truth, it's been at the back of my mind for some time now." He smiled, but the expression on his face seemed closer to tears. "You probably think me a coward for saying this now. I think myself a coward. But still—"
"I can't say I've ever considered thoughts like that."
As far as anybody knew, Junkou had always thought the world of his big brother. He'd rushed to his side as soon as Shishou raised the flag of Kouto. Although scorned as "the dumb little brother," Junkou had never turned his back on Shishou and had worked his fingers to the bone on his behalf. Junkou was the last person on earth anybody expected to have a cross word to say about his brother.
"I appreciate that," he said. "But those thoughts have been nagging at me. The ideal kingdom my brother talks about simply seems too grandiose. Like this garden." Junkou pointed at the view of Shouka Park beyond the door of the gazebo. "A scene of a deep mountain valley. A green hill, the overarching peaks perfectly fashioned with beautiful stones, constructed so that a spring flows down from atop the ledge in translucent streams, together forming a scene of glens and ravines."
"Yes, well, that is what it is."
"But those ridges reach no higher than the eaves. It's all on a scale much smaller than reality. In the end, it's only made to please the eye. Small enough to be formed by human hands. Small enough that human hands can keep it all in order. The pine trees looking down on the mountain stream have been pruned to look as the gardener believes they should look. The stream is untroubled by a single weed, a single spot of litter. Anything displeasing to see has been removed."
Junkou got to his feet and stood in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder at Seiki. "There's no place here for a retiring, run-of-the-mill mind like mine."
"Taiho—saying such things—"
"Oh, I don't want anybody feeling sorry for me. I'm just saying that I understand my own limitations. I really do believe in my brother's brilliance and his unerring course. People like me are the complete opposite. My brother always talked to me about the ideal Sai. It really did strike me as a wonderful world, but left me a little sad as well. Because there would be no place for a person like me in that world."
He clenched his fist tightly. "Except that there are far more people like me in this world."
"Yes, but—"
"My big brother is a great leader. So is Shuka. And Eishuku. Everybody who came up through the ranks in Kouto. Shimmering diamonds. But the great mass of the people are like me. From their perspective, I'm small change, a stone in the road."
"Taiho, Shuka and Eishuku are definitely—"
Junkou firmly shook his head. "Real people have faults and imperfections. They're not all perfect like my big brother. His ideal world sounds to me like this man-made garden. But building a kingdom is not like making real mountains and real valleys. Reality is not made of these small rocks. In the end, humans can't move actual mountains, or rivers, or forests just to improve the scenery."
"Yes, that would be a bit extreme."
"The Sai my brother speaks of sounds like a beautiful dream. I always thought of it as an ideal. The ideal Sai is not a place that can be constructed. An image held in the mind as we take each step closer to the goal—that's what an ideal should be. In that case, it doesn't matter how high the bar. That's what we call it an ideal, after all."
"Agreed."
"But my big brother is behaving like the ideal is the reality. If you ask me, though, such a kingdom would become a prison."
"Taiho—"
"Don't you see? The picture of the perfect kingdom my brother paints is a place where the common man—the ordinary fool—couldn't live. All the ministers will know right from wrong, will keep their passions in check, and work for the good of all mankind. The people will all obey the law, virtuously and humbly, and work diligently from sunup to sundown. Those who do not are not part of the equation. Where will they go? Exile them? Execute them? In order to keep wickedness and sloth at bay will they be watched and disciplined every minute of the day?"
"Well—I—um—"
"If that is the sort of kingdom my brother desires, then I could call myself no better than one of the jailers. It wouldn't be the kind of kingdom that should ever exist. At times like this, I can't help thinking that my idea of a utopia would be one that could tolerate no small amount of laziness and conniving and stupidity and inefficiency."
"That may be true, but—"
"As we speak, my brother is making every effort to turn the ideal fixed in his mind into the real. He is striving for perfection—a reality that can never exist—with no room for doubts. I believe he is mistaken. But these are not words he is willing to hear."
Seiki looked up at him. Junkou's face was suffused with pain.
"After that, he had nothing further to stay," Seiki concluded. "The whole thing left a bitter taste in my mouth, and so I took my leave. That was the end of it."
Chapter 9
Eishuku sat there in a heavy silence. Seiki shifted uncomfortably. At last Shuka broke in. "What the Taiho said certainly does sound like criticism of His Highness. But even supposing that he bore ill will towards the King, what would be gained by murdering the Taishi?"
"You make a good point."
"Rather—" Shuka started to say, but kept the terrifying thought to herself.
Upon returning from the Sankou, Junkou had set out for Choumei Palace. Shuka could imagine him wanting to share his thoughts with Daisho (who was both his father and the Taishi) or confer with him. Suppose that they were of one mind about the matter, and then Shishou showed up or was asked
to stop by, and they brought these criticisms to light and an argument ensued? The enraged Shishou killed Daishou and Junkou escaped and fearing for his life, fled the Imperial Palace.
"I don't think it was Junkou-sama. After all the Taishi was practically beheaded."
Eishuku nodded, his expression showing equal doubts. "Would he be physically capable of such a thing? Since our time together at Kouto, I never observed him to wield a weapon with any kind of competence. You didn't either, did you?"
Fighting alongside the people, Junkou seemed more frightened of picking up a sword than he was of their enemies. Not a few called him a coward behind his back.
"No, I never did."
"He couldn't swing a sword to save his life, didn't have the heart for it. I can't believe he could wound anybody seriously, let alone take off their head." Eishuku pondered the matter for a minute. "It'd definitely have to be somebody who knew how to use a sword."
"Then it's not Junkou, Eishuku. It'd be impossible."
"Probably," Eishuku said with a nod. He stared up at the ceiling and muttered, "Then who?" His eyes flew open. He glanced at Shuka. She answered with a small nod. That same awful realization must have struck him as well.
Eishuku gave the Taisai a flustered look and took a deep breath. Shuka sighed as well, a sigh tinged with disappointment and dispair.
A second later, the door to the room crashed open. Armored soldiers from the Palace Guard poured in. Leading them was a commander of the Palace Guard of the Left. He held out a warrant for them all to see.
"I have been authorized to take the Chousai, Daishito, Taisai, and Shousai into custody on suspicion of treason."
