Chapter 1 – “A Butterfly Preceded It”

Before reading, play this song and listen along.

“Surreal, is the only word that could capture how it felt. Before me ambled a butterfly, this sign of spring conspicuously out of place among the decaying and falling foliage. Into the darkness ahead it drifted, a faint stench emanating from the black that swallowed it. A moment passed, the forest around completely silent. And then…” He hesitated, watching the faces of the two men who comprised his audience. “The butterfly’s sudden retreat from the tree-line confirmed it.” A smug look took hold across his face as he pulled taught their suspense. “An oni.” He smirked. “Fuck…” One exclaimed. The other; his friend, stared even more intensely after hearing this revelation.

“Out shot a grotesque, meaty arm, sweeping branches aside effortlessly as it walked into the clearing. Moonlight dancing off of it’s bony horns, the silhouette of the beast came into view.” Eyes wide, he now had their full attention. “And he didn’t see you?” one quizzically murmured. The storyteller shook his head. “They have bad eyesight, you know? As long as I stayed still there was little chance he’d notice me. Well, unless I was unlucky enough for the wind to pick up.” The second man inquired further, anxious to hear more of this tale. “So what did you do?” As if waiting his whole life to bask in this, he replied with a smile. “I challenged him, of course.”

A statement which however, couldn’t have possibly been further from the truth. As only twelve hours ago our storyteller, Tsunenobu, struggled just to keep his cries from escaping into the night. In full sprint he ran, tearing through the woods, only the faint shimmer of moonlight there to guide him. Even for the dead of night, visibility was unusually low. As he ran, the thick tapestry of branches and bushes swiped at him, each pricker tearing at his clothing. But there was no time to assess the cuts they dealt, for behind him charged one of the most feared creatures of Japanese lore.

Tsunenobu, a twenty year old who was still arguably a child, found it hard to adapt to life in the wilderness. Near-starvation and sleeplessness hounded him on an almost regular basis, and the natural uncertainty of homelessness slowly whittled away peace of mind. But it wasn’t until tonight that his fears reached their climax. Still in sprint, his lungs struggled to hold the cold autumn air, his gait eventually slowing in response. Against the overwhelming dread telling him to do anything but, he turned his head and looked back. His eyes, locked in the slow focus of adrenaline, adjusted, seeing nothing. Darkness.

He gradually slowed down, hesitant to make a full stop. Inside his head raced a myriad of panicked thoughts, each aggrandizing every little movement that occurred around him. In his panic his lungs heaved violently, like a bellow desperate to keep a fire alive. Soon, the rush of blood and adrenaline began to subside, the chill of mid-October setting deep into his body. Standing quietly a moment, he surveyed his surroundings, eyes scanning the black patchwork of trees that lay all around him. Confident he was alone, he collapsed, knees sinking into the soggy ground. There he held his head, and cried. Then sobbed. While adapting to the wilderness was a struggle, his experience up until this moment hadn’t been as difficult as he had initially expected. But it was tonight that changed that. Tonight was the onset of Autumn, and of the inevitable Winter. This night in particular was the first chill of the season, and he knew that if he failed to do anything, he was going to die.

“Bullshit.” the man bleated, skepticism apparent in his voice. “There’s no way you wouldn’t run. You’re just asking to be killed otherwise.” He argued. However, Tsunenobu was quick to dash his doubt. Lifting up his ragged kimono, he revealed his side; a shallow cut ran from underarm to hip. “I’d find it hard to believe myself.” He said. Speechless, the men gawked at the wound, disbelieving anything he was saying could actually be true. “That’s not..?” one mumbled. “I told you their eyesight was bad.” He remarked as he carefully covered the injury back up, wincing as the clothing passed over it. “Had it been a full moon, I could’ve very easily been killed. It’d only take one strike to completely disembowel you, if their club didn’t get your first. It’d be logical for me to panic, you’d think. However…”

He paused, a gravely serious look overtaking his face. Then smiled. “Oni are incredibly stupid.” “Huh. I didn’t know they were that common.” The man said, looking over at his friend before letting out a hearty laugh. Tsunenobu chuckled, continuing. “What I needed was a diversion. Thinking quickly, I noticed there were numerous rocks strewn across the forest floor. As still as death I moved, slowly reaching for one before he could notice my shadow shifting in the moonlight. Stone in hand, a simple throw of the rock towards the tree behind it was all I needed to send it off swinging. ‘Clunk’. The rock contacted, the now alarmed beast letting out a scream as it swept it’s club through the length of darkness before it. Barely avoiding an instant death, I dropped to the ground, the gust of such a momentous swing having stood my hairs on end. Another lunge, and an ear-splitting crack followed. There I lay on this bed of mildew as the tree beside me creaked and moaned from the impact. I wasn’t sure what would kill me actually; the beast or the tree falling. But, reliably stupid, it turned, heading towards the sound of the rock’s impact moments earlier. The lumbering beast distracted, I had to topple the weakened tree besides me. Sparing no time, I rose to my feet, the furious, raging monster visible just feet ahead. Slamming my shoulder against it, I threw my full weight into the tree, it’s slow moans slipping out as it’s root system gave. Though I’ll be honest, it was quite a struggle finding traction among the mud and wet leaves. Even more so fighting against the time in which the monster could re-direct it’s onslaught. But finally…”. He raised his arms in grand fashion, emulating his heroic recollections. “With a crack, the bottom up-rooted itself, the sound ripping through the night like a sudden shot of thunder. And downward it fell, descending to the ground with a loud ‘woosh’.”

Hours earlier, the ‘woosh’ of a strong breeze traveled through a clearing as Tsunenobu gathered branches, scrambling in his frenzy to cobble together a shelter. Physically and mentally exhausted, he arranged the sticks, one on top of the other, lazily propping them up against a large tree as support. He stared at the structure before him, aware the bare skeleton would protect him from little. On this sight he sat a moment, bemoaning the fact there remained much work to be done. That the comforting arms of sleep were still far from him. He rose, exhaling a deep sigh as he went off to gather cover.

Half awake, he continued to work, lamenting how the cold and damp leaves hurt his already frigid hands. A brief moment passed, before a quick flutter of leaves high behind him perked his ears. Startled, he turned around, once again met with only darkness. Trees rustling as his eyes searched, he hopefully assumed it was just the windy night at hand. Hesitantly, he turned around, returning to work. But on it continued, the crack of branches high above becoming more intense the more intently he listened to them. In spite of his growing uneasiness, he ignored it. With quicker pace he heaped the damp foliage into his arms, hurriedly heading back to camp. But soon the rustle of leaves gave way to what he could only describe as a howl. Not loud, but a quiet, whimpering howl. He froze, the eerie noise shooting straight into his heart. Fear washing over, his head quickly darted in every direction, searching for the source of the unearthly sounds. There was nothing. Suddenly he froze, coming to a conclusion, his stomach dropping in turn; spirits. And once again, pile of leaves falling from his arms, Tsunenobu ran. Though this time he wouldn’t stop. Tears welling up in his eyes, or maybe as he’d tell us, just the result of the wind drying them out, he left his shelter, his refuge, behind.

“Oh come on, you didn’t run away did you?” the man scoffed, disappointed in this great tale apparently tapering off. Tsunenobu retorted, an almost offended look on his face.  “Of course not, what kind of story would that make?” Suring up his confidence, he continued, his voice taking on a serious tone. “The tree had pinned it. An unsettling roar, almost a scream emanating from it as it tried to raise the thick, oak trunk laying atop it. Off to the side, I noticed; it’s club had been disarmed. In the mud it lay, a broad, gargantuan weapon fashioned straight from a large oak. A weapon truly fit only for the beast that wielded it. About the size of you actually.” He mentioned, pointing to one of the men.

He went on, discarding prose as he executed the story’s final arc. “The challenge was going to be in lifting it. Though as I found, luckily, in that moment the strength of the whole world flows through you.” He gloated, almost with a cliche reserved for drunken boasts. But still, the rising intensity of his voice kept hold of the two men. “Into the mud I reached, taking the rough, grimy handle in hand. And for the first time I could see it’s ugly, misshapen face, starlight reflecting in it’s eyes. I remember, it looked as if it was almost searching for mercy, this odd fear held in the soul of something so evil. But nevertheless, this was a matter of survival. With every ounce of strength my muscles contained, I raised the monstrous implement above me, and taking a few seconds to relish the role of the executioner, I dropped it with a momentous crack. It’s skull split asunder, bringing out the most ghastly howl you could imagine. The downed tree shook as it bellowed, branches violently heaving in time with it’s screams. Even the birds deep in their slumber awoke and fluttered out from their beds, but now… I could return to mine.”

“Hoh…” the man muttered, impressed. His friend beside him without response. “A person managing to kill an oni… Who would’ve thought? I’d have been scared shitless!” The one man acclaimed. “And a peasant boy nonetheless!” His friend suddenly chimed in. With a smile, the two men looked at each other. “You’ve gotta come back with us, my son isn’t going to believe this!” one insisted. Not particularly thrilled at the idea of heading back east however, Tsunenobu declined. “No thank you, as fun as it sounds I need to be going.” However, the men were adamant that he return with them, hoping to secure their bragging rights over all future sake-filled story tellings. “Nonsense, it’s only just a mile down the road.” He told him, pointing in the direction they were headed. They were determined, but Tsunenobu rebuffed again, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry, I really need to get going. I hope you enjoyed the story though.” He said, bowing. “Ah fuck, they’re never going to believe us.” The man groaned. “Eh, well.. Have a safe trip.” He finally relented, the two men bowing in return before going their separate ways. “Oh, and watch out for anymore Oni!” his friend shouted as they made their way off.

Smiling, Tsunenobu turned and made his way down the dirt road. Content expression quickly bleeding from his face, he sunk back into his dire reality. The morning had been rough. Running through the remaining hours of moonlight the night before, his frantic pace had only just let up as dawn broke. Just now making his way out of the woods, he found himself on the road linking the major provincial towns. With the nearest castle lying a few villages over, he knew he was in for a long, arduous walk between anything of note. Though it wasn’t as if he had a goal, nor intended on doing anything in particular really. The aim was just to stay alive. Maybe he’d come across a traveling merchant and be able to haggle some food. Perhaps find a farm who’s dried patties he could stow away in and sleep. As erratic and fear-laden as the future seemed, the possibilities were his, at least.

His walk continued awhile, the afternoon sun now shining down directly above him. Only the occasional traveler between towns appeared to break up the endless sea of forest and grass, the monotony of wilted verdure that led even an hour’s walk into feeling like days. Eventually, he came upon an arch on the edge of the road, nestled in auburn leaves. Two stones stood on each side, decorated in writing he couldn’t make out. Upon closer investigation, he realized it was the entrance to a Shinto shrine. The deeply religious person he was, as was much of Japan at the time, Tsunenobu felt great relief as he stopped and gazed down the narrow, shade-laden path that led into the woods. He entered, the cover of leaves once again basking him in a cool darkness.

In contrast to the cold that gripped him last night, he was content in how temperate today was. And now, with the sun out of his eyes, found a rare swell of optimism as he entered the clearing that housed the shrine. A small, quaint structure came into view before him. Striking red and orange leaves piled themselves softly on the slate gray, almost turquoise roof shingles. Upon seeing this, he couldn’t help but be struck by the beauty of the scene that unfolded. The shrine’s door slid open, and a man, presumably the priest, walked out. Clad in a long, flowing white garment, he had an impressive air to him. He bowed to Tsunenobu and continued on his way, towards a smaller shack in the back of the clearing. Another man, much older, was knelt in silence before the shrine. Tsunenobu looked around, appreciating the quiet he found here, the tranquility. He knelt as well, taking his place next to the old man. A faint breeze brushed against him, as if he were being told he could relax.

“A peasant… how pathetic.” Tsunenobu thought, looking up. “I’d rather die than live in dirt.” He looked down at his clothing, at the fine layer of dirt and mud covering them, aware of the irony. Overhead, clouds converged, the overcast enveloping the shrine further in shade. “I know what I’m doing is extraordinarily stupid… but I cherish my life enough to gamble it.” A pitiful dread began to well up as he told himself this, the reality of how futile his wishes were becoming readily apparent. How close the possibility of death actually was. “If come snowfall I die, at least it was on my own terms, I suppose…”. He half-heartedly cracked a smile. “Maybe they’ll base a beautiful woodcut off of me.” He thought, tenderness quickly fading. He knew nobody would find his body, let alone know the fleeting story it told. His empty eyes observed the ground, staring yet taking in nothing. His whole body sank with the growing realization: “I’m not ready to die.”.

“A lot on your mind, isn’t there?” A voice said, abruptly tearing him from his trance. He looked over, the old man now turned in his direction. “You see a lot of weary faces here, but not many as grim as yours. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s troubling you?” Tsunenobu froze, hesitant in baring himself to a stranger. Especially a tale as helpless as his. A second he sat, struggling for something to say. The old man spoke up, aware of the potential awkwardness. “It’s fine, this is a place of private introspection. I understand.” He said. Gazing at the potpourri of colors swirling on the roof, he looked back at Tsunenobu. “I just don’t like seeing someone as young as you with such an apparent burden. You should enjoy the life you have.” The remark painted an even glummer look on his face. “I’m trying.” Tsunenobu muttered, solemnly. “…True, we all are.” He said, nodding in agreement. The two went silent a moment, Tsunenobu thinking over the old man’s words.

Suddenly, he spoke up. “What’s bothering you?” he asked. Looking over at him, the old man ruminated on his answer as Tsunenobu had. “Ignorance.” He said. “Next to giving up, ignorance in the face of decision and of the proper choices is one of the most heartbreaking things to witness.” He told him, the cordial atmosphere fading. With a child-like curiosity, Tsunenobu decided to probe. “Who’s… ignorant?” He asked, the question adorning a look similar to Tsunenobu’s earlier upon the old man’s face. “…A friend.” He said quietly, staring off into the woods. “It’s not as if there’s much to do though. As much as you try to pull their hand, their choices remain their choices…” He turned to Tsunenobu. “An important thing to take to heart. You are the only one you control, as much as you may wish otherwise. …But even that is too difficult for some people.” He said, the ambiguity fueling Tsunenobu’s interest. “It’s an important decision, isn’t it?” The old man sat on his answer a moment. “Fairly. …And like any decision that matters, there’s not long to make it.” He replied, a tinge of grimness in his statement.

“You’re not going to stop helping your friend, are you?” Tsunenobu continued. Suddenly looking over, the old man now had a completely different demeanor. “Absolutely not.” He told him disgustedly. “You are bound until death. Just because he can’t trust others with the future does not mean I abandon him.” He stated resolutely, the angered tone in his voice approaching a yell. Deciding that’s where his curiosity ended, Tsunenobu merely nodded in response, going quiet. The old man now sat, eyes closed, taking the same introspective position he had as when Tsunenobu arrived. There the two sat a few minutes more, in silence, before the old man rose. Brushing away the dirt from his silk kimono, he bowed to Tsunenobu, informing him it was getting late and took his leave. Tsunenobu bid him farewell, watching the old man disappear down the path.

Returning to his thoughts, he was intensely curious about what he had been told. Tsunenobu wasn’t stupid, he knew just what exactly he’d accidentally revealed; whether the old man knew it or not. The silk clothing, the chonmage. It was obvious the man he’d just talked to was a samurai. And judging by his age and the wise air with which his words carried, an experienced one. It was him alone that managed to pry that knowledge loose. With the utmost confidence Tsunenobu looked up at the shrine, no longer wallowing in self-pity, but smiling his brightest smile.

“You can’t stay here all night, you know.” Someone said, the voice suddenly jarring his eyes open. Awareness and the light of the waning sun pouring back in, he turned around. A girl, about the same age he was, stood behind him. Her dark brown, shoulder length hair fell onto an ornate dress. A shrine maiden. Taking a second to gather his surroundings, he realized it had become much darker, the sun now half over the horizon. He must have fallen asleep, he thought to himself. The fact of which suddenly made him aware of how much discomfort his folded legs were in. Audibly cringing, he slowly rose, unfolding his sore, tense legs. “You’ll be welcome back tomorrow.” The girl stated politely.

His stomach tensed. “The sun is setting.” finally began to register. Looking at the girl’s soft face, his mind began to quickly work the paces. “You can deal with spirits right?” He asked abruptly, the girl furling her brow at the odd, sudden question. “We… can. I have no experience or practice with it however.” She informed him. Still, Tsunenobu felt a fit of desperate excitement coming over him. “Would it be possible for you to guide someone through those woods?” He inquired, pointing to the nearby tree-line. “No, like I said I have little experience in dealing with that. And we talk to the spirits of ancestors, not fend off anything malicious…” She told him, shaking her head. Once again, relief seemed so intangible. “Besides, why not just take the road?” she added. “It’s far safer there than trekking through the woods. There’s animals out there!”.

As Tsunenobu danced with his plan to make it through the night, the amber blanket of the setting sun washed over the road. A single leaf, having defiantly outlasted his brothers, remained alone on a naked tree. Unceremoniously, his stem gave way, casting him to the wind, and under the foot of the old man, now in a hurried pace. The samurai that attended him sat up the road, idly chatting. One noticed his approach, the ghastly expression smeared across his superior’s face. “Sir, what happened?!” His yoriki exclaimed, receiving him. Out of breath, the old man could only manage to sputter a single, panicked phrase. “B-bandit, robbed me.”