Chapter 3 — Tenmaya, the Conjurer (Part 3)

Professor Yodogawa and I left the master artist’s house and walked along the quiet streets. Ayameike’s strange garden, the appearance of Tenmaya accompanied by that festival music, the salamander hotpot, and that illusion—it had seemed as if the banquet had gone on into the wee hours of the night, yet it was only around 9 o’clock. I felt the effects of the banquet lingering in my head, to the point that I couldn’t be sure whether or not I was still under Tenmaya’s spell.

“That was some illusion, huh?”

“Be a good fellow and slap me on the cheek? The suspense is simply intolerable!”

The sound of my open-handed slap echoed loudly through the hushed neighborhood.

“I suppose this must be real, then,” the professor winced, holding a hand to his cheek. “I say, you certainly don’t take half measures!”

“If you’re alright, I must be alright too.”

“Now, I daresay that isn’t right. This experiment has established the fact that I am not under a spell, but it says nothing about you. Surely it says nothing about whether you are under a spell?”

“But I saw you react to being hurt.”

“And how can you be sure that was not part of the illusion?”

“Are you asking me to hit you one more time?”

“No, no! It’s you that needs to be hit.”

“How come? Either way I’ll pass, thanks. I tend to avoid doing things that involve pain.”

As we continued our philosophical sparring beneath the streetlights, Tenmaya suddenly loomed out of the darkness before us, bearing that red lantern like some sort of demon. We were dumbfounded in horror.

Tenmaya flashed his pearly whites. “Say, professor, I heard you got ran out of the club?”

“...And what if I was, Tenmaya? That is certainly none of your business,” the professor declared resolutely, continuing forth on his way, but Tenmaya wriggled up beside him.

“And you’ve started some sort of petulant resistance, I hear? Not very wise of you, not wise at all!”

“...Now who on earth did you hear that from?”

“The all-knowing Tenmaya has eyes and ears all over Kyoto, yes indeed. And those precious little ears most certainly heard on the grapevine that Professor Yodogawa dared stand up to the great Jurōjin! Now that’s what I call growing a backbone, you old rogue, you! But word of advice, I would cut that out sharpish, you being a respectable college professor and all.”

“You’re a spy, aren’t you, Tenmaya?” I accused.

Tenmaya looked injured. “I assure you, meeting you at the artist’s house was entirely a coincidence!”

“A likely story!” The professor squinted at him. “I thought you’d gone on a journey?”

“I had, I had. But I’ll tell you the unvarnished truth, my innocent curiosity got me on old man Jurōjin’s bad side. These days I just drift where the wind takes me, just like the puffy white clouds up there in the blue yonder. I’ve got no reason to do the Friday Fellows’ bidding anymore, and as a matter of fact I’ve taken a shine to your little rebellion here.” He whacked the professor’s shoulder playfully. “We’re both outcasts, ain’t no reason we shouldn’t get along. You want my advice, just say the word.”

“I’ll have to decline. I’m sure your consulting fees are nothing to sniff at.”

“You know, professor, Jurōjin can be a frightening man. I would be careful, if I were you.”

When we came to the Biwa canal, Tenmaya remarked, “Good evening, gents,” then hopped easily over a wall, bouncing along the top of the embankment like an old-fashioned kickball. At the bottom of the grass-covered embankment a crude little boat was bobbling in the dark water of the canal. Tenmaya placed his lantern at the prow of the boat, then got in himself. The little boat glided along, that speck of light glowing at the bow, before it was swallowed into the darkness of the tunnel beneath Mount Nagara.

“What a ludicrous little man! You simply can’t let up your guard when he’s around.”

“You should go on home, professor. I’ve got to swing by somewhere.”

“Ah, that so? Very well, they do say there’s nothing like a nice long stroll for digestion!”

After seeing Professor Yodogawa off, I promptly turned around and headed back to Ayameike’s house.

Tenmaya hadn’t once mentioned our confrontation above Teramachi Street tonight, but as he said his farewell he had given me a sly wink. Of course the professor hadn’t noticed, for the challenge had been meant only for me: fool me if you can! And as soon as I saw that wink, the foolishness that I had inherited had me determined to take Tenmaya down.

Apparently, eating a Japanese giant salamander really gets your fool’s blood pumping.

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Ayameike was sitting tranquilly on the veranda, silhouetted against the light leaking through from the dining room. The smoke from his pipe drifted in and out from his white beard, so it was impossible to distinguish where one ended and the other began.

I returned to my tanuki form and padded into the garden.

Ayameike took out the pipe from his mouth and smiled.

“Ah, so you have dispensed with transforming, Yasaburō?”

I had had a sense that tanuki transformations didn’t work against his penetrating gaze. I went over to the front of the veranda and bowed my head.

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, reaching down from the veranda to shake my paw.

I pulled myself up and plopped down beside him.

“Is your wife asleep?”

“Presently she is in the bath.”

As he mentioned this, I heard within the sounds of splashing water.

“I am not fond of baths myself, but my wife is quite the opposite. She’ll be in there for quite some time.”

“Tanuki love baths, too. Wonderful invention, those.”

“What do you do for all that time?”

“Count our hairs, I suppose. Father once made me count a hundred of them before getting out.”

“I see. Tanuki and humans both have hairs,” laughed Ayameike. “But counting hairs seems to me rather tiresome. I should much prefer not to engage in what seems to me nothing more than a schoolboy’s exercise.”

Beside us in a rough clay plate, a mosquito coil sent up thin tendrils of smoke. Ayameike gazed at it, seeming to find the sight of the green incense slowly crumbling into grey ash captivating.

“I never tire of it,” he remarked.

The two of us continued to stare at it. After a while, Ayameike asked gently, “Have you forgotten something here?”

“I want to know more about Tenmaya,” I answered him candidly. “He fooled me once before, and I want to return the favor.”

“Tenmaya fooled a tanuki?”

“Sure did. It was pretty horrific for me.”

“What a rascal that Tenmaya is.”

“...What was he doing here?”

Ayameike looked at me with those clear eyes of his, but said nothing. His gaze seemed to pierce through my fur down into my very soul, as if he was testing my mettle. Straightening up, I told him about everything that had transpired with Tenmaya. As he listened to my tale, he exhaled little puffs of smoke.

“I see,” he said once I had finished, and stood up. “Come with me. I shall show you whence Tenmaya came.”

Descending from the veranda he strode into the trees.

Beyond that darkness-enveloped grove was a small shed. It was filled with flashlights and scythes and sickles and old suitcases. Sifting through the jumble, Ayameike pulled out what appeared to be a large panel covered by a heavy cloth.

“I hide this here whenever Tenmaya comes calling. He would attempt to burn it otherwise. Burning that which belongs to another is quite unacceptable.”

Beneath the cloth was a two-paneled folding screen depicting an image of Hell.

I picked up a flashlight and shone its beam on the screen to reveal an unsettling landscape. Flecks of red spattered a black landscape of rocky crags, the color of fire, and of blood. Hairy, brawny demons chased around the dolorous dead, drowning them in the lake of blood, crushing their skulls with iron clubs. With my nose pushed up right next to the painting, I fancied I could actually smell the raw stench and hear the piteous cries. If I were dropped in this place, no doubt every strand of fur on my body would be singed off before I hit the ground, a most terrifying fate. The fur on my butt prickled, and I began to find it hard to breathe, but then I noticed in the upper right a kindly light radiating down upon the scene. There was a Buddha that very much resembled a tanuki, lowering a spider’s thread into Hell from the side of a lotus pond. Given the rough brushwork this was clearly an addition made by Ayameike.

“I was entrusted it by someone who found the image rather disturbing. The requester asked me to draw a likeness of the Buddha here. I dislike performing ‘work’ as it were, but when I saw this picture I agreed to the request. For you see, I pitied these sinners.”

“A ray of light in the darkness, huh?”

Ayameike pointed to the spider’s thread that the Buddha was lowering into Hell. The glinting thread reached down into the blackened depths of blood and flame, where a mass of sinners were clinging to the thread and pressing their hands together in supplication towards the Buddha in paradise.

“This was the spider’s thread which Tenmaya climbed to escape,” said Ayameike. “He was once in this diptych of Hell.”

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It was late at night by the time I came back into town on the Tōzai subway line.

The man who had requested the addition to the painting had been the chief priest of a temple in Nakagyō Ward, but as to who actually owned the painting Ayameike did not know. I thought about what Tenmaya had said, about him having “gotten on old man Jurōjin’s bad side.” And I wondered whether this dreadful painting hadn’t once belonged to the head of the Friday Fellows.

I crossed the Sanjō Bridge and walked through the deserted Teramachi arcade.

“Don’t do it,” groused the haberdasher, whom I’d roused from his slumber, but that salamander hotpot had really gotten me fired up, and I was more determined than ever to knock Tenmaya down a peg and even the score.

Finally overwhelmed by my persistence, the haberdasher grudgingly let me in. “Fine, fine, but I’m going straight back to bed!”

Once I went out onto the arcade rooftop, the pyjama-wearing haberdasher snapped the window shut behind me and closed the drapes.

I started off across the still, silent rooftops.

The round moon was boring its way across the night sky, its cool light washing over the streets below. In my mind’s eye I saw Benten walking before me. I want the moon! she had cried that wondrous autumn night, but instead of that capricious beauty tonight I was dealing with a stoutly built middle-aged conjurer.

Tenmaya was sitting on the roof of his illegally zoned shack. He seemed to be enjoying an impromptu moon-viewing party.

“Don’t get too many visitors at this hour,” he said airily with his back still turned to me. Moonlight shone through the transparent glass in his hand, though even that did nothing to make the charred-brown liquid it contained look more palatable. It was a non-alcoholic cocktail of Tenmaya’s own invention called the Namahage, a mixture of miso and cola topped with a garnish of pickled radish.

“What a fabulous moon, don’t you think? To the moon!” he toasted.

I said nothing, but took a deep breath and began to transform.

My shapeshifting is truly a sight to behold.

Tenmaya turned around, frowning, and immediately the blood drained from his face.

What he saw was an enormous head about the size of a sake barrel. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of red paint over one of the oddly shaped boulders from Cape Muroto and given it blazing watermelon-sized eyeballs, two horns curving out through the unkempt hair, and a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs that grinned from ear to ear.

During this year’s Setsubun festival, Benten had wanted to throw beans at an ogre, and so I had transformed into one in order to grant her request. Now that experience came in handy. I had every confidence that my efforts had produced a demon who looked like he had spent the last few hundred years in the wind-swept basins of Hell.

Tenmaya practically wet himself at the sudden appearance of an ogre.

I bared my fangs and summoned up a roar from the pit of my stomach. “GRAAH! TENMAAYAAA!”

Tenmaya spilled his vile cocktail and crawled over the roof, rolling off the other side.

I climbed on top of the shack and bellowed, “I’VE COME TO DRAG YOU BACK TO HELLL!”

In the light of the moon, my musclebound ogre must really have looked like a hunter from Hell. Tenmaya screamed like a little girl, flailing his limbs and wriggling in circles in his attempt to escape.

“No! Please, I beg you!” he screeched, looking more dead than alive.

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Tenmaya stumbled all over himself as he fled from the red ogre following close behind.

Even as a tanuki I hadn’t dared hope for my plan to go this splendidly. Like a cat toying with a mouse, I neither rushed up to snatch him nor fell too far behind, content to chase behind and holler, “Stop! Stop!” After frightening the moonlight out of him, I planned to take him to task for misusing his illusions like that. But ecstatic at having pulled one over him, I grew overconfident. Tanuki have long been known to be lax when it comes to finishing anything.

Tenmaya abruptly whirled around to face me. The next moment, I found a metal tube shoved up in my face, cold steel glinting beneath the moonlight. Screeching to a halt, I crossed my eyes trying to see what it was. I suddenly felt a cold murderous intent emanating from the blackness within the tube, and realized that what Tenmaya had pointed at me was the barrel of a gun.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” I immediately raised my hands in surrender and reverted to my student form. “Ranged weapons are cheating!”

Tenmaya was astonished to see me. “Yasaburō? Not bad, not bad at all!”

Tenmaya’s gun was quite beautiful. It resembled a gleaming golden brass instrument attached to an elegant wooden stock, exhibiting such nobility that it looked like it belonged in a museum. You didn’t see guns as beautiful as this every day. There was no doubt that this was the lost German-made air rifle that Yakushibō’s heir had brought back from his European sojourn.

“You found that lying around somewhere, didn’t you?”

“And how would you know that, eh?”

“An acquaintance of mine lost it, and I’ve been looking for it ever since. Please, give it back.”

“Ha, that so? But I’ve gotten pretty fond of this baby. You want it back, you’ll have to do more than ask nicely!” said Tenmaya unfeelingly. He seemed both incensed, and a little amused.

“Why don’t we be partners?” he asked suddenly. “I’ve taken a liking to you, kid.”

“That’s gonna have to be a no. You’re just planning on wrapping me up in another illusion, I’ll bet.”

“I know you like the back of my hand. Don’t know where you learned your illusions, but you just can’t help yourself from enjoying every second of it. Fearless, like. That’s youth for you. But it’s a wide world out there. Sooner or later you’re gonna come across some real tricky conjurers, and then you’re really going to get burned. Happened to me, too. Times like that show what you’re really made out of. If you’re smart, you’ll learn the virtue of being humble. If you’re dumb, you’ll end up throwing your life away.”

“Yeah, but using guns is unfair!”

“I’m an unfair guy. A dyed-in-the-wool swindler, even.”

“Now you’re admitting it?”

“Come on, I’m just a softhearted guy trying to teach you an important lesson. I never said I would settle everything through illusions, did I? Life ain’t like the Olympics. You gotta win, whatever it takes. Even the most dishonest swindler’s got to have a few honest tricks up his sleeve. If you’re gonna take on a guy you don’t have the least clue about, you’ve got to be ready for that much. Hey, when I put it that way, I sound like a real go-getter, don’t I? The sort of guy that could take over the world, or unveil the secrets of the universe. I’m telling you, Yasaburō, there’d never be a dull moment if we put our minds together!”

As Tenmaya babbled on happily the muzzle of the gun swung back and forth through the air. As I watched it I began to feel faint, and when I snapped to the moon hanging in the sky was wobbling like a pudding. I was already under Tenmaya’s spell.

“That should about do it.” Tenmaya stretched his hand into the sky and without any fuss plucked my moon out of the sky, placing it on his palm and rolling it around. The orange-sized orb shone brightly in his hand, illuminating his wide-faced grin. “I’ll be holding on to your moon until I get an answer I like.”

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The moon that had until a moment ago been shining so brilliantly over the city was now sitting in the palm of Tenmaya’s hand.

It was an upsetting feeling, being robbed of a full moon, and the surroundings suddenly seemed so very dreary. I couldn’t bear the thought of living the rest of my life without a moon. But there was nothing I could do.

“I have to compliment you on that ogre, though. Gave me a turn, it did!”

“I heard that you’re afraid of the ogres of Hell.”

“Heard that from Ayameike, did you?”

“That’s right.”

“...Then that means you saw the picture?”

“Yep,” I responded.

Tenmaya clicked his tongue. “Dammit, I knew it was still in that house! That old man may look like a senile coot but he doesn’t miss a trick. Believe me when I tell you, things would be better if you incinerated that nasty old painting.”

“You were in Hell, right?”

“I was trapped by Jurōjin’s illusions!”

“What did you do to make him so angry?”

“You’re full of surprises yourself, I see. How do you know Jurōjin?”

His suspicions raised, he leveled the air rifle at me again.

I couldn’t exactly say that my father had been made into the Friday Fellows’ stew.

“...I met him through someone called Benten.”

“Benten!?” Tenmaya howled the instant that name left my mouth. His already ruddy face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, and I half-expected steam to come whistling out his ears. The barrel of the gun trembled in his wrath, making me more than a little anxious for my well-being.

“I tell you that woman is the cause of all my troubles!” cried Tenmaya, spraying spittle everywhere. “Can you even imagine what sort of evils I’ve been subjected to because of her? I’ve seen Hell, yes, in the flesh. Using her feminine wiles to get close to Jurōjin, whispering all sorts of half-truths into his ear… I will admit she is beautiful. I will admit she is entrancing. I will admit that she is out of my league. But why should that mean I should let her toss me into Hell on a whim!? I am Tenmaya, the incomparable! I will not resign myself to rot in Hell! I have returned, and when next we meet that woman will rue the day she crossed me!”

That was when it happened.

A white object came whistling out of the sky and slammed into Tenmaya’s face, knocking him flat on his back. I looked to see that the object was an expensive-looking pure white valise. The unfortunate Tenmaya was dazed by the pain, blood spurting from his nostrils, and the air rifle which he had been pointing at me had gone sailing onto the floor. I went to grab it, but Tenmaya immediately lunged up and scrabbled over on all fours. He cradled it in his arms like it was his child, with blood still dripping from his nose, and petulantly exclaimed, “It’s mine, I tell you, mine!” His determination was impressive, which was to be expected for someone who had gone to Hell and lived to tell the tale.

A woman came floating down from the sky, landing with the point of her stilettos poking directly into Tenmaya’s skull.

“Owowowow!” he shrieked.

“Good to see you again, Tenmaya,” said Benten. “I’m glad you’re looking well.”

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“You would make such a good public speaker,” ruminated Benten.

Tenmaya squirmed beneath her feet. “...What a surprise, Miz Benten. How long have you been listening?”

“Oh, since you said ‘she’s out of my league.’ What a lovely compliment.”

“You’ll put everything after that out of your mind, I hope?”

I promptly said in a loud whisper, “He said, ‘When next we meet that woman will rue the day she crossed me!’”

“What are you on about, Yasaburō!” Tenmaya hissed in a laboured voice beneath Benten’s heels. “It’s just a figure of speech. It’s what you’d say to a woman who catches your fancy, hey?”

Benten dug in her heels a little harder.

“Hoyvin!” squeaked Tenmaya, screwing his face up in pain. “Ooh, my head’s ready to split!”

“Tenmaya, do you _wish _to go back to Hell?”

“Of course not, heh heh. Fact is, being under your ladyship’s feet is paradise!” Tenmaya assured her with a strained grin, his face covered in blood. “So, when did your ladyship get back to the country?”

“Just now, actually. I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see your face so soon.”

“Seeing as I was in Hell for so long, what say you we leave our old bickering down there, let bygones be bygones?”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. After all, you are lower than a worm to me.”

“Hey, even a worm’s got feelings, you know.”

I hadn’t seen her in four months, but she was just as perfect as always. She was wearing shorts and a garish T-shirt that said “THE BEAUTIFUL DIE OLD”. No doubt Kinkaku and Ginkaku had given it to her as a farewell present. The troublesome two had set up shop in a corner of the Faux Denki Bran distillery to pump out T-shirts bearing nonsensical idioms, but as no one would buy them they had taken to foisting them on every tanuki who came into the factory, which had not made them very popular.

“Oh!” Benten suddenly cried. “How lovely!”

She stooped over and picked up the shining moon that had fallen to the ground beside Tenmaya, cupping it in her hands and marveling at it as if she were appraising a massive gemstone.

“What a beautiful moon this is, Yasaburō!”

“Well of course it is. That’s my moon.”

“Is it now?” she laughed. Perhaps I’ll hang it up in my room. I’ve always wanted something like this.”

“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s hard for a tanuki to have a belly drumming session without a full moon.”

“That’s funny, coming from someone who’s never belly drummed for me before.”

At that moment, the long-suffering Tenmaya growled like a tiger and reared up his head. Taking advantage of Benten’s momentary loss of balance, he leaped backwards like a wound up spring. His blood-covered face was grotesque, like a demon that had just crawled out of a lake of blood.

The muzzle of the air rifle was aimed squarely at Benten.

Without the slightest hesitation he pulled the trigger.

With a slight flick of her pale hand, Benten sent the bullet tumbling harmlessly into the night as easily as if she was swatting away a fly. To a tengu, being shot at is no more dangerous than being pelted with beans.

Benten grabbed the gun with both hands. Tenmaya in turn desperately threw his whole body onto the gun to keep it from being wrested away. The next thing I knew Benten had lifted both gun and Tenmaya into the air, and began to swing them around like she was throwing a hammer. Tenmaya seemed frozen in astonishment, his eyes as round as dinner plates.

Benten released her grip, and Tenmaya went hurtling in the direction of Shijō Avenue.

To my surprise, as he sailed through the air still clutching the air rifle, I could have sworn that Tenmaya gave me a wink. I could hardly believe he was still so confident even on the brink of death. Fooling a tanuki, squaring off with a tengu—you could never guess what this madman was going to do next.

As I watched Tenmaya disappear over the horizon, I commented, “I think you killed him.”

“As if that would be enough to do him in. The man’s a rubber ball: he always bounces back,” Benten said, wiping off her hands with a handkerchief.

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“This really is a lovely moon.” Benten smiled sweetly down at the little orb in her palm.

Watching her, I felt a relief come over me, as if a hole that had long remained empty in my heart had finally been filled. A schemer who had overthrown her own master; the murderer of my father who also happened to be my first love; and a natural enemy who had tried to make me into stew and eat me up. That I was celebrating her return to Japan could only be my fool’s blood talking. I’d been waiting for her smile to come and stir things up again. Benten had come back to turn this town upside down.

Benten pointed her chin towards her fallen valise. “Take that for me, won’t you Yasaburō? I’m going to say hello to the master.”

“Excellent. I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed.”

Master Akadama might even blubber tears of joy. As his disciple I’d rather not witness that sort of thing, but nevertheless I picked up the suitcase. It was as heavy as if it was stuffed with gold bars.

I looked up and saw that she was spinning my moon on the tip of her finger.

“If I may, Lady Benten?”

“Yes, Yasaburō?”

“Before we set off to the Master, may I have my moon back?”

“Must I give it back?”

“With humility I beseech you. Living the rest of my life under moonless nights would be most disagreeable.”

“But I’ve finally gotten my hands on Mr. Moon…”

For a moment Benten hesitated, but eventually she wound up like a baseball pitcher and threw it into the night sky. My beloved moon settled into the hole in the sky it had left behind and once more shined its radiant light down upon the city. Now I’d be able to enjoy eating round tsukimi-dango under the full moon again.

All’s well that ends well.

I bowed my head deeply. “Thank you, Lady Benten.”

But Benten didn’t seem satisfied. She looked at me, her eyes narrow and cold.

“Aren’t you forgetting to say something? You naughty little tanuki.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me you missed me, Yasaburō.”

“I missed you deeply. Welcome home, Lady Benten.”

Benten nodded with pleasure. “I’m glad to be back. Things are about to get a lot more interesting, Yasaburō.”