Chapter 7 — Uchōten Kazoku (Part 3)

Sensuirō is about five minutes’ walk south from the Shijō Kiyamachi intersection along the Takase River.

It is in a wooden two-story building, not particularly big but quite beautiful, with the distinctive air of a longstanding establishment. The rear of the building faces the Kamo River directly, and in summer they set up a terrace overlooking the water. Its facade is a showy affair, with orange lanterns hanging all along the frontage.

Having left Chitoseya a step ahead of us, Yashirō dashed into Sensuirō, only to be immediately cowed by the sight of Ebisugawa Sōun, who was delivering a lengthy harangue on the subject of the absent Yaichirō, and appeared to have all but clinched his accession to the Trick Magistership.

Seeing how unfavorable things were looking, Yashirō cracked open the sliding screen in the hallway, and waved the Fūjin Raijin fan.

Immediately the room was engulfed by a powerful blast of wind, and the row of elders went tumbling like so many dust bunnies, making it quite difficult for them to render a decision. The attendants rushed to and fro making a fuss as they returned them all to their proper locations, and this time it was Master Akadama who, waiting in an adjacent room and drinking wine, bellowed, “Silence!”

Master Akadama was attending that day, albeit with great reluctance, and he refused to sit among tanuki, instead taking the use of a separate room for himself and his drink. Whenever it seemed likely to him that a decision would be made, he would raise a great hullabaloo with no regard whatever for appearances. It was plain as day to him that they were slighting him, and there was nothing that the great Master Akadama hated more than being slighted.

The look of wrath on the Master’s face as he threw his conniptions froze Yashirō as he listened in from the hallway. He seemed to Yashirō to be in fine ill humor today, and once his lectures started they dragged on interminably, giving the listeners no chance to cut him off. That was quite fortunate in this case, because it bought time for Yaichirō and Yajirō to reach the venue.

At last Yaichirō arrived, with Yajirō riding on his back. He listened in the hallway to Yajirō’s explanation of what occurred, with Master Akadama droning on in the background.

“Well done,” he said, patting Yashirō on the head. “Let’s go on in. Return the fan to the Master and get him to back down.”

Yaichirō screwed up all his courage and slid open the screen, to find Master Akadama standing in the center of the room giving his lecture while distinguished tanuki cowered all around him. The instant the tanuki glanced up and saw Yaichirō, looks of relief spread across their faces. A murmur went around the room. “Oh, there’s Yaichirō!” “Finally, Yaichirō’s here!”

Yaichirō looked at Sōun with a look of pure fury. For a moment, Sōun looked as if he had seen a ghost, but quickly recovered his composure and looked back at Yaichiro patronizingly, his lip curling.

“We’ve all been waiting, Yaichirō,” drawled Sōun. “How dare you impose such arrogance upon us. Surely you will, at the very least, apologize to the elders!”

“Hold now, hold!” interrupted Master Akadama. “I have not finished speaking!”

“Master! We’ve come to present you with this!” Yashirō prostrated himself at the Master’s feet and held out the Fūjin Raijin fan.

The Master’s expression quickly softened. “Well, if it isn’t the Fūjin Raijin fan,” he muttered. “I had heard that fool Yasaburō lost it.”

“We have only just found it, and came directly to deliver it to you!”

“Indeed, indeed.”

“Master,” said Yaichirō, sensing that his mood had improved. “Now that I have arrived, we should be able to come to a conclusion forthwith. Please, be at ease, and bear with us a while longer.”

“Hrmph. Very well. But do not forget it would not be wise to tempt me,” said the Master, gazing at the Fūjin Raijin fan as he spoke. “Anger me, and I may just raise up a tengu gale.”

“Of course, I am only too well aware.”

Letting Yashirō pull him on by the sleeve, Master Akadama disappeared into the adjacent room.

Yaichirō sat on his heels and bowed his head low to the elders. “My humblest apologies for keeping you all waiting; however, I was delayed by mitigating circumstances. Until moments ago, I was in the clutches of the Friday Fellows.”

A tremble rippled through the gathered tanuki when they heard that name.

“The reason that I fell into their clutches, even had my own actions been negligent, lies solely in the machinations of intrigue of that tanuki, Ebisugawa Sōun. In order to seize the seat of the Trick Magister, he imprisoned the entire Shimogamo clan, myself included, and threw me in a cage before handing me to the Friday Fellows. This treachery cannot stand!”

“Is this true?” the elders said, quivering atop their cushions.

“It is a lie,” Sōun said calmly. “I am not a tengu, nor a human. What tanuki would do such a terrible thing as to make another tanuki into stew? Not only does he make excuses for his own lateness to this hallowed gathering, he seeks to besmirch my good name. A low, vulgar trick! This is unfounded, outrageous slander!”

“It is true,” insisted Yaichirō.

“Where is your proof?”

Yajirō hopped down onto the tatami and chirruped, “He’s telling the truth!”

The elders observed the talking frog with great interest. “Why, if it isn’t Shimogamo Yajirō!” they said. “You haven’t shown yourself in a long, long time.”

“What difference does the word of a frog make?” Sōun thundered, shaking the room. “He may look like a frog, but is he not a member of the Shimogamos? They’ve always despised the Ebisugawa clan, and now they’ve cooked up a story amongst them to tarnish me. And how strange that he claims that I handed him to the Friday Fellows, yet here he is! Should you not be in a pot by now?”

Yaichirō and Sōun went back and forth like this for some time.

“Shhh! Humans have entered the next room!” an attendant suddenly hissed. Everyone strained their ears. From the room opposite the chamber where Master Akadama was drinking away, the clomping footsteps of a great many humans could be heard.

“Now,” said one of the elders, breaking the hush. “The longer you two go at it, the more confounded we will get. What we need is to clear our heads and think. Yaichirō, Sōun, I want both of you to shut up for a while.”

And the elders all silently started to ponder.

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The Friday Fellows were on their way to the new venue.

Many things must have lined up for an establishment like Sensuirō to pass into the ownership of Jurōjin, the loan shark. It made my heart hurt to think about it. By pure chance it had fallen into Jurōjin’s hands, and thus tonight this old ryōtei would be occupied by humans and tanuki and tengu, each separated only by a single sliding screen. Though it may not have been by design, the price of this blunder would be high. In but a single night, this storied building would be blown to smithereens, and the long tradition of the poor Sensuirō would come to an end.

I was lugging the case of Faux Denki Bran all the way down from the north end of Pontochō, and even though it was winter I had worked up quite a sweat. Glancing sidelong at me as I set the case down on the dirt floor of the antechamber huffing and puffing, the other Friday Fellows went up one by one into the dining room. The old proprietress came out to greet us, bowing her head low to Jurōjin.

I was on tenterhooks as I followed them up, expecting to see a tanuki to pop its furry head at any moment. I could only imagine what chaos would ensue if they knew that they were sharing a roof with the Friday Fellows. We’d be treading on tumbling balls of fur sprouting tails left and right.

We were shown to a room on the second floor overlooking the Kamo River, and with horror I saw that the stewpots and implements were already in place. The Friday Fellows grumbled about the cramped room, but the hostess could only bow and say, “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Can’t we have the next room over?” Bishamon asked, pointing at a screen painted with a tiger in a bamboo thicket.

“The next room is extremely full.”

“Pretty quiet, for a full house. Sounds like there’s no one there!”

“Yes, they are very quiet.” With that vague answer the waitress exited the room.

I squeezed myself into a corner, holding my breath and wondering when Mother would arrive.

Benten left her seat in the ring of Friday Fellows, and slid over the tatami to me. She chuckled and lit up a cigar, puffing away with one knee pulled up to her chest. “So, what are you planning now?”

“I’m not telling.”

“I don’t care what you do, as long as it’s amusing. Just don’t get carried away.”

I looked at the screen painted with the tiger in the bamboo thicket. I was thinking of Yaichirō.

The waitress’s voice rang out in the hallway. “A package has arrived.”

There are many painful things in the world, but surely none of them could be more painful than the sight of my own mother trapped in a cage, being carried into a room full of ingredients for a stew.

The cage was carried in by two waitresses, moving slowly and respectfully. Deep down they must have felt ashamed, bringing a hairy tanuki into such a storied ryōtei, but in front of Jurōjin, the owner of the establishment, they probably didn’t dare let their emotions show. Then again, they probably weren’t aware, either, that most of their customers tonight were tanuki.

Jurōjin gave the cage a little shake, and the curled up tanuki inside slowly raised her head.

“Ah!” “Splendid!” “What a beautiful tanuki!” The Friday Fellows clamored in admiration, but I was too shaken to do the same.

It was all I could do to keep myself from springing at Jurōjin. While I stood there grinding my teeth, Mother noticed and stared at me with wet eyes, sniffing her nose. I gave a tiny nod.

“What a fine tanuki. Would you not agree, Hotei?” Jurōjin addressed Professor Yodogawa.

But strangely enough, that tanuki lover of a professor looked completely stunned, and did not reply. His mouth hung open, as he stared at the tanuki in the cage.

“Something wrong, Hotei?” inquired Bishamon.

Professor Yodogawa fidgeted.

Just as I was about to call out to Jurōjin, the tension in the heretofore silent room next door finally snapped.

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The elders were so deep in thought that at last they all fell asleep, their furry bodies rising and falling. Glancing briefly at them, Sōun opened his mouth once again. “Enough with these pathetic lies, Yaichirō. It’s disgraceful!”

“How dare you!” shouted Yaichirō, sounding outraged. “How dare you tell such lies, you scoundrel!”

“You address your uncle in such a manner? Know your place!”

Yaichirō finally forgot that he was in the presence of the elders. “Uncle, my foot! You miserable cur! You made Father into stew!”

A shockwave went through the assembled tanuki, and even the elders were called back from the brink of eternal rest back into wakefulness.

“He made Sōichirō into stew?” repeated the patriarch of the Nanzenji clan. “That is an accusation we cannot ignore.”

“Wait! Wait!” Sōun put up a hand. “Calm yourselves. This is yet another baseless lie. Seeing that his lies are futile, he contrives now to stir up memories of his father in desperation. But there is no proof of this whatever. Can anyone else prove your claims?”

“Kaisei witnessed it. Your own daughter witnessed it!”

“Girls that age often dream up the most dramatic things. Are you not ashamed to take her flights of fancy at face value? Do you seriously believe that I made Sōichirō into stew?”

“You’re just going to keep playing innocent, aren’t you!”

“Everything you’ve said is ridiculous. Not a single tanuki believes your dreadful tale.” Sōun faced the elders and asked, “Well? Do any of you believe I did such a thing?”

The elders quivered and said nothing.

Sōun continued. “It’s true, the tale of how Sōichirō became the Friday Fellows’ stew is shrouded in mystery. It is strange, how such a grand tanuki could have fallen into the hands of humans so easily. However, the story changes if we consider whether Sōichirō was intoxicated at the time.” His glare swept onto the frog sitting on the tatami. “I have heard that on the night that Sōichirō was captured by the Friday Fellows, he was out drinking with another tanuki. Surely that was the cause for Sōichirō falling into the hands of those hateful humans. All this time, that tanuki has refrained from coming forth and naming himself. He was responsible for the leader of our world falling into a stewpot, and yet has said nothing. I have also heard that this cowardly was so ashamed of his craven actions that he went into hiding somewhere in a temple at the bottom of a well!”

Unable to restrain his fury Yajirō leaped up straight onto Sōun’s face and tried to pull Sōun’s nostrils apart.

“Yaaagh!” Sōun shrieked, tossing away the frog. Yajirō went sailing through the air, and Nanzenji managed to catch him right before he pancaked onto the sliding screen.

“Enough of you!” His rage boiling over, Yaichirō transformed into a giant tiger. “Uncle or not, I’m going to flatten you myself!”

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From the next room over we could hear a furious row going on. The deep, full voice must have been Sōun. I heard Nanzenji shouting, “Calm down, Yaichirō!”, and a number of shrill voices which I assumed belonged to the elders.

Jurōjin eyed the sliding screen. “It seems our neighbors have decided to show us what they are made of.”

The Friday Fellows pricked their ears and listened as the muffled voices steadily grew louder. Soon we could hear the sound of running on the tatami, and someone yelling, “Foul! Foul!”

“Are they holding a sporting event, perchance?” Jurōjin muttered. At the same moment there was a large thump, and a large dent appeared in the sliding screen amid the bamboo stalks. The screen shook and tore open, and a corpulent man came rolling through into our room. Next, a real tiger came bounding as if in pursuit, ripping through the painted tiger on the screen. It was an enormous beast, and the ferocity in its gaze was enough to make your blood run cold.

The tiger pinned the groveling man in place with one great paw, and unleashed a howl that shook the building. The man wailed in terror.

“My goodness. A tiger!” Benten casually remarked beside me.

In a twinkle the other Friday Fellows had retreated and were huddled beside the wall on the opposite side. Only Jurōjin paid the rampaging tiger no mind, instead looking down at Mother in the cage and saying, “What a tumultuous night it has been!”

Beneath the tiger’s paw, Ebisugawa looked up. Directly in front of him sat Jurōjin, and beside Jurōjin was the cage. Seeing Mother, he cried out.

Yaichirō cried out as well. His black and gold fur undulated and rippled, and the fury left his sagging shoulders. In spite of that he still managed to retain his transformation, which for Yaichirō was no small feat.

Facing Jurōjin, Sōun howled, “How! How did you manage to get your hands on that tanuki? I left her in the warehouse!”

“Ah, Ebisugawa. You see, things have not fared well on our end, so I am borrowing it.”

“Borrowing it to do what?”

“To make our stew.”

“That is not borrowing! I have made it quite clear that it is not to be made into stew! That is my tanuki!”

“Indeed it is. And what of it?”

“You cannot make her into stew. I will not allow it!” Frothing spittle flew from Sōun’s mouth. “I’ll never send you another bottle of Faux Denki Bran again!”

Jurōjin snorted. “Then I will simply take it from you. Do you concur, Benten?”

“Why, certainly.”

“I knew it would come to this! This is what makes humans so despicable!”

This argument was my chance to rescue Mother. But just as I started to stand up I was thrust aside, and another human dived for the cage.

Professor Yodogawa clutched Mother’s cage in his arms. Mother looked up at him and sniffed her nose.

“Now what is the matter, Hotei?” Jurōjin asked softly. Professor Yodogawa looked at him and started to back away, holding the cage tight. He shook his head, his mouth working.

“No more. I can’t just look on,” he choked out. “She’s the one. She’s the tanuki I rescued. I won’t let you have her!”

“I went to such pains to obtain her, all because you let the other tanuki escape. A year-end party without tanuki stew is like gyūdon without beef. Do you intend to breach the honored tradition of the Friday Fellows?”

The other Friday Fellows added their chorus to Jurōjin’s reprimands.

“You’ll be expelled, Hotei!”

“Then expel me!”

“Whoa, look who’s fighting back!”

“I knew I wasn’t cut out for this. I’ve lost. My ideology’s been crushed. And that’s all right! Here we are, civilized as you please, and yet we’re still eating tanuki stew. Darn the Friday Fellows, and darn the tradition!”

“But you’ve eaten just as much as any of us!”

“Is eating not an act of love? Is that not what you have always claimed?”

“Yes, eating is love. But to refrain from eating is also love!”

“How can you say such egotistical things with such a straight face?”

“Sophistry! That’s sophistry!”

“Call it what you will! I’m not asking for opinions!” shouted the professor. “I’ve turned over a new leaf!”

“Turn as many leaves as you like, but leave the tanuki,” Jurōjin ordered him gravely, but with his back against the wall the professor instead stepped on Ebisugawa Sōun, kicked over the rent sliding screen, and fled into the adjacent room.

All bedlam broke loose after that.

The next room over was stuffed with the elders and an entourage consisting of the cream of the crop of the tanuki world.

“It’s the Friday Fellows!” As soon as the cry went up, the room was filled with wordless screams, and as the tanuki collectively lost their heads their transformations popped off one after another. The sudden appearance of an untold number of furballs transformed the floor of the room into a writhing, hairy carpet. “Sorry! Sorry!” cried the professor as he rushed through the room, apologetically sending furballs flying everywhere.

“What a magnificent sight,” breathed Jurōjin, standing up imposingly and staring into the room. “We shall have our fill of stew tonight!”

The tanuki tumbled headlong over each other in their haste to escape. Fighting through that wave, the professor got tripped up and went sprawling, throwing Mother’s cage into the air.

It was Yaichirō who went diving for Mother as she sailed through the air. He had shrunk away in fear from Mother’s peril like a paper tiger, all but forgotten, but now he snatched her from the air with his paw, and puffed himself up once again. Sliding the cage under his belly, he roared to intimidate the Friday Fellows, but to no effect. They were all stunned by the sudden appearance of this petting zoo before them, and only sat there opening and closing their mouths like a school of koi waiting to be fed.

Yajirō crawled up to my feet, having only just escaped the chaos. I picked him up and put him on my shoulder. “Welp, this is a mess and no mistake,” he commented.

“Professor!” called Benten, making her way over to him. “Are you hurt?”

In the midst of everything, only Jurōjin seemed to be taking it all in stride, neither flinching nor faltering at the appearance of the great tiger and the tanuki. He stood up to Yaichirō and bellowed, “Be silent!”

Yaichirō howled right back at him.

The waitresses showed up to investigate the commotion and promptly fell back on the floor.

“Tiger!”

“Tanuki!”

The tanuki squeaked as they ran around, attempting to slide open the screen and escape into the hallway, but being clumsy as well as completely panic-stricken, they only succeeded in piling themselves up against the wall like they had been swept there by a broom.

The tanuki scrambled, the tiger howled, Jurōjin thundered, Mother sat in her cage, the Friday Fellows sat dazed, the waitresses gibbered on the floor, the ideologically defeated Professor Yodogawa fell on his ass, Benten went to her knees to help him, I stared at it all amazed, and on my shoulder a tiny frog mumbled, “What a mess”—indeed, who could possibly sort out this great jumbled mess of tanuki and human and half-tengu?

The sliding screen beyond the mass of wriggling tanuki opened with a snap.

Standing there was Master Akadama.

His face was red as a lobster, and he looked as if steam was about to come shooting out of his ears. In his right hand he held the recently recovered Fūjin Raijin fan, and in his left he held a string that led to a confetti ball dangling from the ceiling above him. Yashiro was entwined around his feet, trying with all his might to keep the Master from exploding. One sharp kick, and Yashirō went tumbling over the floor and reverted into a tanuki.

We had all forgotten about the Master.

Trembling with rage, he jerked the string furiously, and the confetti ball popped open. Amidst the fluttering confetti, a scroll unfurled itself, reading, “Congratulations, Trick Magister!!!”

“How long do you intend to make me wait! Pull yourselves together, or I will blow you all away!” he bellowed, showing us the Fūjin Raijin fan.

When I saw that, a devilish plan wormed its way into my mind.

I felt bad for what I was about to do to Professor Yodogawa, but there was only one way to clear the slate, and that was to blow this mess away with an even bigger mess. I ran up behind Benten and shoved her, sending her toppling onto the professor. The professor grabbed her to stop her fall, leaving the two in a most compromising position.

I knelt on the floor and shouted, “Lord Yakushibō of Nyoigatake! Bear witness to this display of infidelity!”

Master Akadama’s eyes opened wide, and he glared at Benten and the professor, who were embracing each other foolishly on the ground, all according to plan.

“What are you talking about!?” the professor yelped frantically. “I assure you, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Ha! I knew it was you! I have seen the photograph!” the Master spat. “How dare the likes of a human lay hands on Benten—but you are not the only one at fault. All of you share the guilt. You humans, you tanuki, think you to feign innocence with those foolish looks on your faces? You all disgust me! Hear me, now! Witness a tengu! Can you not see how I despise you all!”

His arm came up above his head, and with it the Fūjin Raijin fan, gold flecks sparkling in the light.

“I am tengu! I am mighty, for I am tengu! I am tengu, for I am mighty! Lay down thy quarrels, and kneel before me! Render thanks unto me, for I am merciful! Thou art in the presence of a Great Tengu! Bow down, one and all, and know thy place!”

And looking just as he had in his glory days, Master Akadama waved the fan.

Tengu cackling filled the air as a terrible, awesome tengu gale reduced Sensuirō into splinters, and tengu and human alike joined hands as we were all whirled away into the sky.

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Sensuirō dates back to the Edo period, but even after putting a provisional end to its history, the Master’s anger remained unabated, and tengu gales continued to rampage throughout Kiyamachi. Human and tanuki scattered into the shadows, some on foot, some riding the wind. Those who managed to escape were lucky. Professor Yodogawa, who thanks to my efforts found himself tarred with the ignominious title of paramour, was not so fortunate.

Master Akadama chased him around and around, waving the fan. The trees of Kiyamachi bent so far they threatened to snap, the waters of the Takase River flowed backwards, and drunkards who wandered unwittingly into his path found themselves flying through the air. Professor Yodogawa’s hair blew this way and that, and falling all over himself he fled from Kiyamachi into the bright lights of Shijō Avenue. Even so, Master Akadama stayed hot on his heels, making full use of the cane I had given him as a Christmas present, displaying a vitality that I hadn’t seen in years.

“Master! I implore you! He has been punished enough!” I shouted behind him, but the Master took no notice.

Shijō Avenue sparkled in the darkness of the night, as it always did. Tall buildings loomed on both sides of the street, brokerages and beauty salons and financial institutions and banks and electric billboards lighting up the night sky. Crowds were bustling on the sidewalks, buses and cars crisscrossed the intersections, and taxis lined up awaiting their next passenger.

Professor Yodogawa fled west down the road, and wherever he went, screams and chaos followed close behind. Dolled up maidens, youthful buskers performing in front of the Shijō Kawaramachi Takashimaya department store, college students heading to year-end parties: all were mowed down by the fierce winds blowing through that canyon of buildings. The waiting taxis creaked and shuddered, the buses came dangerously close to tipping over, and the traffic light poles bent and twisted backwards. Countless apples were blown from the beds of heavily laden discount fruit trucks, making sticky messes of the surrounding luxury stores. Electronic signs projecting out over the street blew out in spectacular fashion, sending sparks flying like fireworks before guttering out.

“Looks like the old man’s still got it!” Yajirō shouted, clinging to my shoulder.

Yaichiro and Yashirō caught up as I rushed down the street. “Do something, Yasaburō!” Yaichirō wheezed. “I’ve never seen anything this bad!”

“Can’t you tell I’m trying?”

The Master finally showed signs of tiring, and leaned on his stick to catch his breath. The winds slackened for a moment, so we all ran up to restrain him, but just as we were about to grab him he waved the fan once again.

We were all blown up into the open sky, holding onto each other like a human chain.

“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die!” Yaichirō shrieked.

“I’m scared! I’m scared!” Yashirō sobbed.

We sailed through the sky in sheer terror, before Benten came swooping down to save our hides.

“Goodness, what a rascal he is,” she sighed. “Nice work. I’ll take it from here.”

Benten threaded her way through the violent eddys and landed on the ground. Setting us down, she walked up to Master Akadama, who was marching past Fujī Daimaru, and called out, “Master!”

The Master stopped in his tracks and lowered the fan.

“Master, haven’t you had enough?”

The Master turned around. “Benten?”

“I think you’ve taught him enough of a lesson. So please, stop.”

“But—”

“I bought cotton swabs. Let me clean your ears for you. How long has it been since you laid your head on my lap?”

“Hrm.”

“Please, Master, let it go,” she said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

Master Akadama scowled and watched Professor Yodogawa running down towards Shijō Karasuma, but finally he nodded and tucked the Fūjin Raijin fan into his robe. The last breath of the tengu gale ruffled his white hair. Benten took his hand, and elegantly raised her other hand to hail one of the taxis cruising down Shijō Avenue. A car soon stopped in front of her, and the door opened.

As the Master was about to enter the taxi, he suddenly turned and laid his gaze on us brothers.

“What are you all playing at? Hurry up and return to the forest,” he said, waving his cane. “Screw around at night, and you furballs are bound to get eaten up!”

All four of us brothers all bowed our heads to our great mentor.

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After watching the taxi containing Master Akadama and Benten drive off, we breathed a collective sigh of relief.

I tried to collect my thoughts about everything that had happened over the course of this long, long day, but it was all so mixed up. But that was okay. It wasn’t exactly wrapped up neatly with a bow, but for the most part things had worked out as well as you could hope.

“So how long are you going to stay a frog?” Yaichirō said to Yajirō, who was still perched on my shoulder. “It can’t be very convenient.”

“Well you see, Yaichirō, I haven’t quite got back the hang of it yet. I expect I’ll have to stay a frog for the moment.”

“What’s going to happen to the Trick Magister?” Yashirō asked.

Yaichirō grimaced. “I did end up losing control of myself in front of the elders. But then, now that Sōun’s vile deeds have been exposed for all to see, there’s no chance he’ll get it either. I presume that Yasaka will maintain the position. And he was so looking forward to retiring to that tropical island, the poor chap.”

“Oh! Mother!” I shouted.

“Oh, yes!” Yaichirō said, visibly flustered. “I told her to head over to the Scarlet Pane. I hope she’s made it safely there!”

Yashirō took out his cell phone, which thanks to Kinkaku’s heavy usage was dead. But that didn’t faze Yashirō, who simply gave it a little jolt.

“See, you can be useful,” muttered Yaichirō, who hastily added, “No, I mean you are a very useful fellow!”

Yashirō dialed Mother, while the rest of us strained our ears to listen.

“Mother, where are you right now?”

“I’ve just arrived at the Scarlet Pane. Ooh, my shoulders are stiff after spending half the day cooped up in that cage. Are you all alright? No one’s hurt?”

“Yup, we’re all here. I’m giving it to Yasaburō.”

“Ready for duty, Mother!”

“Yasaburō? You did wonderfully today!”

“Haha, that was nothing. Here’s Yaichirō.”

“Mother, today was a travesty. I am truly sorry. And I am very sorry to say it, but I no longer believe that I will be able to become the Trick Magister.”

“That’s alright. There’ll always be something new waiting around the corner.”

“I apologize. I will pass it over to Yajirō.”

Yaichirō held the phone up to my shoulder. Yajirō shuffled up to it haltingly, like he was trying to figure out what to say.

“Yajirō? Why aren’t you saying anything?” said Mother. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Fat teardrops began to roll down the little frog’s face. “It’s been a long time, Mother. It’s been such a long time. I’m so sorry!”

“That’s alright. I understand what you’re feeling. So no more tears, okay?” Mother said softly. “Okay, it’s been a long night. I’ll be waiting for you all to get here!”

It had been years since all of us brothers had gotten together in one place.

“This is a good time for a belly drum!” Yaichirō suggested. I winced. Tanuki belly drums are an outdated relic; besides, doing belly drums always upsets my stomach. But I didn’t want to spoil his mood, so just for tonight I decided to humor him.

“Ready!” shouted Yaichirō, and we all slapped our bellies with a pong, before setting off for the Scarlet Pane.

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“One day, I expect that you’ll follow in my footsteps,” Father had once said to Yaichirō, while they waited for the bus amidst the throngs of Gion. “There are all sorts of disagreeable tanuki out there, and you’ve always been obstinate, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you got into fights all the time. But for every enemy you make, you’ve got to make a friend. If you make five enemies, you’ve also got to make five friends. Even if you go on making enemies until you’ve got half the tanuki world against you, don’t forget, you’ve got three brothers alongside you. That’s a very reassuring thing. One day that’ll be your ace in the hole. I’ve always regretted that I never had that. I didn’t trust my little brother, and he didn’t trust me. That’s why the two of us fought. There’s no worse enemy than one who shares your blood. That is why you must always trust one another. A band of brothers! That’s what you are, and never forget it. A band of brothers! You’ve all got the same fool’s blood flowing in you, after all.”

After saying all this, he laughed dryly. “Then again, this blood ain’t much to be proud of.”

　　　　　　　◯

It had been an overly exciting end to the year, and everyone fell into a deep slumber, thoroughly worn out. All of Kyoto’s tanuki society went dormant for a time.

And that was how we rang in the new year.

The weather is usually fine on New Year’s Day, and this year was no exception. Under the crisp, boundlessly clear skies, the city was bustling with crowds making their first shrine visit of the year. Tanuki crept out from their beds, sniffing and taking in the scent of the new year.

Feeling fine, we all went out as a family to Yasaka Shrine. We visit Shimogamo Shrine every year, but we hadn’t been to Yasaka since Father departed for the next world.

Walking along the banks of the Kamo under the bracing sunshine, we boarded a Keihan train at Demachiyanagi Station.

From the end of the Shijō Bridge, vast multitudes choked the street from Shijō Kawaramachi to Gion, all on their way to visit Yasaka Shrine. I saw women wearing kimono, toddlers bundled up thick like daruma, and couples walking hand in hand; people of all shapes and sizes streamed towards the already choked gates of the shrine.

“Ugh, that’s a lot of people!” Yaichirō stood on tiptoe looking over towards the shrine and frowned. “Will we even be able to enter the shrine?”

Yaichirō had received a reprimand for wreaking havoc in front of the elders as a tiger that night, but only for the sake of appearances, and given the extenuating circumstances he was readily forgiven. Still, in the midst of all the hullabaloo they couldn’t possibly have chosen the next Trick Magister, and so for the time being Yasaka Heitarō carried on in that position. By all accounts he had been so ready to go off to his tropical island that on hearing the news he had ground his teeth in vexation.

“I don’t want any of you getting crushed,” fretted Mother, putting her hands on Yashirō’s shoulders.

“I’m at the most risk here, being a frog and all,” Yajirō croaked on my shoulder. “You’d better not drop me, Yasaburō, or I’ll be trampled flat!”

Yajirō still hadn’t managed to turn back into a tanuki. He had proposed to split his time between the well and the Tadasu Forest, coming and going between the two. As a frog he probably still felt more comfortable living in the well.

As we slowly moved along with the cross along Shijō Avenue, we ran into Professor Yodogawa coming the other way.

Being caught up in all that fuss didn’t seem to have fazed him; apparently real culinary connoisseurs are made of stronger stuff. Accompanying him was a string of students, among which I saw Suzuki, whom I had last seen eating baumkuchen with the professor.

“Ah, fancy seeing you here! Happy New Year!”

“Hello, Happy New Year. Taking your students to your first shrine visit? They must adore you.”

“No, no,” the professor waved his hand with an embarrassed sort of grin. “After this I’m going to have to treat them to a nice meal, of course. I can already hear my wallet weeping.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm? Fine, fine. You know, I’ve thought and thought about it, but I just can’t wrap my head around what happened that night. It sure wasn’t pretty, though. I mean, getting expelled from the Friday Fellows and all…”

“The important thing is that you’re alright.”

“True, true. That’s what matters in the end.”

“C’mon, professor, let’s go get some grub. No cheaping out, there’d better be a mountain of deliciousness waiting for me!” Suzuki urged the professor.

“Well, there you have it. Goodbye now, do drop by the lab sometime!”

After parting with the professor, we waited patiently in front of the gates for the crush of people to shuffle forward.

Even after we finally made it into the shrine, all around us was a sea of black-haired heads as far as the eye could see. People swarmed around the street stalls that had set up on the grounds. We moved towards the main sanctuary, holding hands tightly and letting out stifled yelps when I saw yonder a line of stern-faced men wearing grey suits threading their way through the crowd.

I nudged Yaichirō in the side. “Yaichirō, look over there!”

Yaichirō looked towards where I was pointing. “Kurama tengu?”

“Who knows how many tengu and tanuki are mixed in the crowd here,” said Yajirō. “These days, even frogs open the year with shrine visits.”

“I guess tengu do too,” I observed.

　　　　　　　◯

“And what’s wrong with that?” said a voice behind me.

I flinched and turned around to see Benten, dazzling in a gorgeous scarlet kimono, and Master Akadama, wrapped in a coat and muffler. Benten was munching on a piping hot taiyaki, and a bit of azukibean was stuck to the corner of her crimson lips. It had been years since the two of them had visited a shrine together on the first of the year.

“If it isn’t the great Yakushibō of Nyoigatake! Allow me to offer my greetings on this New Year’s Day.” I bowed my head.

The Master looked pleased. “Indeed.”

“I just love New Year’s!” Benten exclaimed. “It’s got its own special smell, and I love how it’s like a great big festival all over Japan.”

“Quite true, quite true,” the Master nodded agreeably.

“Will you be visiting the shrine, Master?” asked Mother.

Master Akadama straightened up and scanned the masses of people jostling in front of the sanctuary. “I would have, but it seems more trouble than it’s worth,” he growled. “I have no intention of waiting here for who knows how long.”

“Let’s make a visit, Master? Please?” Benten cajoled him. “We’re already here.”

The creases on the Master’s forehead immediately melted away. “Well, all right. Perhaps it’s not so bad waiting around once in a while.”

We all inched forward slowly as the crowd moved forward at a glacial pace. To stave off his own boredom, Master Akadama lectured us all by way of a New Year’s greeting. It was dreadful. Each of the Master’s proclamations was accompanied by a poke in the head, not to mention a giggle from Benten.

“Yaichirō, you must learn to soften that hard head of yours.”

“Yajirō, you must quit being a frog and return to your true form.”

“Yasaburō, you must not cause any more trouble than you already have.”

“Yashirō, you must grow up as quickly as you can.”

Only Yaichirō listened earnestly to the lecturing, which in any case was of rather questionable utility. Since Yajirō was a frog it was hard to tell from his expression whether he was taking it seriously or not, and Yashirō was buried somewhere in the crowd, so that I only occasionally heard him reply, “Kay!” Needless to say, I completely tuned out.

Over the course of Master Akadama’s year-opening exhibition of tengu majesty, we finally made it to the sanctuary, but there were so many people surrounding it that it was still quite a ways off. We ended up deciding to pitch some loose change in the general direction of the offertory box.

As I rummaged for change, I noticed two chubby boys nearby saying their prayers.

“Ah!” I gasped, looking at them.

“Ah!” they gasped, looking back at me.

“If it isn’t Kinkaku and Ginkaku. Happy New Year. Getting the year off to a foolish start?”

“You really did a number on us that night,” Kinkaku sniffed. “We ended up catching terrible colds and were bedridden until last night. We were almost done for!”

“Idiots don’t catch colds, they say, but I hear fools do.”

“How dare you!”

Their father, Ebisugawa Sōun, had disappeared after that momentous uproar, merely informing them that he was going to a hot spring before absconding into the night. Nobody knew where he had disappeared to, but last I heard the majority of his ill-gotten gains, including the netsukecollection in the distillery warehouse, had simply vanished. Some said that he had gotten a faceful of Master Akadama’s tengu gale and had no hope of recovery, while others claimed that the elders had ordered his retirement. Whatever the case, he had thumbed his nose at us before his accumulated wickedness could come to light. Nobody knew when he would come back to Kyoto, but as far as I was concerned it was better if he never came back at all.

From somewhere in the crowd I heard a voice castigating Kinkaku and Ginkaku. “Come on, you dummies, can’t you at least do a proper New Year’s greeting?”

“Kaisei?” I scanned the crowd. “Where are you?”

“Ha, you’ll never find me!” she snickered. “Happy New Year, everyone!”

After Sōun’s disappearance, the management of the Faux Denki Bran distillery had fallen to Kinkaku and Ginkaku. It was rather questionable whether these idiot brothers were even up to such a demanding task, but Kaisei was in absolute command over the entire operation, idiots included, so the distillery was probably in good hands. Business was booming, and I hoped that would keep them too busy to stick their noses into our affairs. Once I had some new tricks up my sleeve and Kinkaku and Ginkaku had started to siphon off resources to fill their own pockets, I might start playing pranks on them again.

As we stood there glaring at each other, Master Akadama used a hamaya¹ to bop each of us on the head.

“Stop wasting time with your idiotic quarrels, you silly furballs. Hurry up and throw your coins!”

We hastily tossed our coins in the direction of the offertory box.

“I’m so thankful that we could all come out to the shrine like this,” Mother said sincerely, tossing out her offering. “I’m sure Sō is smiling.”

　　　　　　　◯

A pleasant aroma wafted into my nose, and I glanced over to see Benten standing beside me.

“I’ve got a lot of wishes this year,” she whispered to me, wrapping a mound of coins in the taiyaki wrapper and throwing it.

“I knew you’d be greedy, Benten.”

“Is that greedy?”

“If you don’t narrow your wishes down, none of them will come true.”

“Really…then I’ll wish to meet my soulmate!”

“There you go again, being all cute like that!”

“Then, what will you wish for, Yasaburō?”

The clamor of the shrine faded away.

Hmm.

I thought about it.

But there was nothing I wished for in particular.

A lot had happened over the last year, but everyone was in one piece, and enjoying life. I was sure that a lot would happen this year, too, but as long as everyone was in one piece and enjoying themselves, that would be good enough. We are tanuki. If anyone ever asks me how tanuki should live, I always answer—the only thing a tanuki ought to do is have fun.

Ye tanuki who teem throughout the capital, throw aside your lofty ambitions.

“There’s nothing I really want to wish for,” I answered.

Benten smiled, then clapped her hands together and closed her eyes.

I gazed at her face for a little while, then clapped my own hands and closed my own eyes.

And I quietly whispered—

May our family and our friends see glory—at least, a little bit, anyways.

Footnotes

1. A ceremonial arrow used as a lucky charm; often given out around New Year’s. ↩