Feature Writer: Snekguy /
Feature Title: DEMON GATE 1 /
Copyright: © 2018 by Snekguy
Story Codes: MF, FemaleDom /
Synopsis: Satou is arranged to be married to the daughter of a neighboring landowner, but when he stumbles across a mysterious woman in the forest, he must find a way to balance the expectations of his family with his burgeoning desires /
Demon Gate 1
Chapter 1: Wanderlust
“Onward, you dumb beast,” Satou said as he slapped the ox on its rump. The animal lurched, digging its cloven hooves into the soil and dragging the plow that was strapped to its back. It was May, rice planting season, and the terraced paddies were being tilled in preparation.
He removed his straw hat for a moment and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his kasode, the hemp rough against his skin. It was a hot day, and the dragonflies were swarming, knowing that the paddies would soon be filled with water in which they would then breed. There was a rhythm to life here, like the beating of some celestial heart. The men irrigated the fields, the water brought the insects, then the insects brought the frogs which in turn brought the storks.
His family’s farm was built into the pocket of a valley amidst rolling hills, surrounded by dense woodland and encircled by the grand peaks of a mountain range. Their snowy caps stood tall, their rocky faces partially obscured by a blue haze and their sprawling lowlands enveloped by forest, the trees gently swaying in the breeze. The rice paddies were carved into the foot of one such mountain, where the valley channeled life-bringing water that was used to irrigate the crops. They were tiered one on top of another, with rock retaining walls to hold the soil in place, each one a unique size and shape to conform to the available land. When they were full of water, they shone like mirrors, reflecting the natural beauty that flourished around them and serving as habitats for all manner of wildlife. But right now they were just dirt, waiting to be tilled before the planting could begin.
“Gazing longingly at the mountains again, Satou?”
He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing one of the laborers standing behind him. It was Nagao, an older man, one of the villagers who lived on his father’s land. He was clad only in a loincloth and a sweatband, the heat of the spring afternoon making his already taxing work all the more difficult. His face was leathery and his skin was tanned by his years of hard labor, but he always seemed cheerful. All of the inhabitants of their mountain enclave were tasked with cultivating the land, even the son of the proprietor was not exempt from such duties.
“Nagao,” Satou replied, the man’s comment snapping him out of his stupor. “Aren’t the mountains beautiful today?”
“Indeed they are,” the old man chuckled. “But your task is to plow the paddies, not to appreciate the mountains. Come now, or your father will become angry.”
Satou reluctantly tore his eyes away from the far off peaks and resumed his tilling, guiding the ox along as the hoe churned up the earth behind it.
“You’re always looking ahead Satou,” Nagao said as he walked along beside him, spreading ash on the disturbed soil as he went from a straw pot that was slung across his shoulder. It would serve to fertilize the earth before the planting of the seedlings. “You should pay more attention to where you are right now. That is your chief concern.”
“Are you to be my mentor now, Nagao?” Satou asked sarcastically.
“No,” the old man laughed, “but you would do well to listen to your elders.”
“You’ve worked these lands longer than I’ve been alive,” Satou began, “what do you know of the mountains and forests?”
“When your grandfather led a group of farmers up into the valley,” the old man began, “it was to escape the harsh labor and the crushing taxes imposed by the provincial governors. He founded a shoen, a farming community out on the edge of what is known. Because of its remoteness, it continues to enjoy autonomy. Beyond the boundaries of your family’s holdings there is naught but wilderness.”
“So nobody has ever explored these forests?” Satou asked, “nobody has ever scaled those peaks?”
“Not to my knowledge, no. Where is this wanderlust coming from, Satou? You have a privileged position in this community, one day you will inherit these lands from your father and you will be tasked with managing the shoen in his stead, as his father did before him. You are becoming a man, you can no longer wile away your days playing in the woods.”
They reached the end of the paddy, and Satou turned the ox around, leading it back in the opposite direction. At least the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains in the West now, and his work would soon be over. His gaze was drawn to the East, where the golden rays illuminated the naked mountainsides in an orange glow, casting deep shadows on every crack and crevice. Their skirts of dense forests seemed all the deeper and more mysterious in that eerie light.
“There is one thing that I can tell you,” Nagao added, noticing the youth’s wistful expression. “The Northeast is bad luck, it is kimon, the demon gate.”
“A demon gate?” Satou asked incredulously.
“Yes, legends say that evil spirits travel from that direction. Temples must be built facing that way, and you must never venture Northeastward alone lest you encounter a gaki, a hungry ghost that preys on unwary travelers.”
“Those are just stories told to scare children,” Satou insisted, disappointed that the old man was telling him folk tales rather than anything useful. “How could a direction be bad luck? We must be Northeastward of someone, somewhere. Does that make us unlucky?”
“That is the wisdom of our ancestors, you should not be so quick to dismiss it. If I were you, I would keep my head out of the clouds and focused on the earth beneath my feet. There is nothing for you out there, Satou, you would do well to realize that.”
He didn’t reply, keeping his hand on the ox’s lead as it stumbled through the mud, his eyes wandering back to the distant horizon.
xxxxx
Satou accepted the bowl of stew from his mother, bringing it up to his lips and shoveling a piece of meat into his mouth with his chopsticks. It had the texture of venison or perhaps rabbit. The game was plentiful at this time of year and the community was able to supplement its diet of grains and vegetables, mostly barley and soybeans, with some much needed protein. While they grew rice, it was rarely eaten by the farmers themselves. Most of it was carted off to be sold or traded with other settlements, and although their shoen was autonomous, they could not avoid paying taxes to the local government in the form of produce. There was a lot of politics and social maneuvering involved that Satou did not yet understand, but that he would no doubt be expected to learn once he took over stewardship of the farmland from his father.
His family sat around a squat table in the center of the room, kneeling or sitting cross-legged on a reed mat, his father seated across from him as he ate from his bowl. His mother was on his right, clad in a colorful silk kimono, and his younger brother Nishio was on his left. Their house was lavish by local standards, the floors were made from wooden boards instead of bare dirt, and the roof was lined with tiles instead of straw. As the leaders of the community and the owners of the land, the Hisatomo family had accumulated a great deal of wealth and status.
They were beloved by the peasants who lived under them, their methods less stringent than those found in the shoen down where the land was flat, as was the tradition passed down by his father’s father. Satou had never visited such a place before, he was accustomed to the slopes and crags of the mountains and valleys, but he could imagine what it might look like. On a clear day he could see far enough to make it out in the distance, land as level as the table that he was eating from. Down there were the great cities, and the battlefields where warriors fought for Shoguns and Emperors. It all seemed so far removed from their peaceful rural life.
“Satou, how goes the tilling?” his father asked.
“It’s going well, father” he replied as he set down his bowl. “The dragonflies are already back, it’s like they know that the paddies will be filled with water soon.”
“That they do. It must be twenty five years ago now that the hillside was burned and cleared. Those dragonflies have been spawning there since before you were born. I think the yield will be good this season, the weather has been favorable.”
“There’s something that I wanted to ask you, father,” Satou said hesitantly.
“Go ahead.”
“I was talking to one of the laborers today while I was working in the paddies, and he told me a legend about bad spirits traveling up from the Northeast. I wondered if there was any truth to it?”
“Satou!” his mother sighed, “I wish that you would concern yourself with more important matters rather than letting your imagination wander so. Leave the ghosts stories to your younger brother.”
“It’s a superstition,” his father grumbled, pausing to take a draw from his bowl. “Some of the older members of the community believe that evil spirits dwell in the Northeastern forests, and that they will travel down to our shoen if they are not appeased. The old women like to scatter roasted soybeans as a ward against them.”
“Would you say it’s frivolous?” Satou asked.
“I would say that as the stewards of this community, we should not mock the customs of our friends and neighbors. Let them perform their rituals and spells, it’s harmless.”
“Grandfather never said anything about the subject?” Satou pressed, but it was his mother who answered him this time.
“Your grandfather had more important things to worry about.”
He bowed his head and continued to eat, knowing better than to bring up the subject again. After a short while, his mother spoke up, this time with an excited tone.
“Satou, your father and I have some news for you. We were waiting for the right opportunity to bring it up, but now seems as good a time as any.” She looked to her husband, waiting for his permission, and he nodded to her. “We have found you a wife!” she proclaimed happily.
“A-A wife?” Satou stammered, stunned by her outburst.
“Yes! She is the heir of a nearby shoen, a woman of high standing. When you wed her, it will unify our two communities. It will create a great alliance between our families, and our collective workforce would very nearly double overnight. Their family is of equal social standing, and her father is honorable, she will be a perfect match for you.”
“I-I see,” he replied, concealing his shock as his mother looked on with a wide smile. “What is her name?”
“She is of the Matsuyo family, their farming community lies a day’s hike to the South.”
No first name? He didn’t press the issue, his parents probably didn’t even know her full name, they only cared about her lineage and her family’s holdings. He had known that he would be expected to marry one day, but he had always quietly hoped that he might be allowed to choose his own bride, perhaps someone from the village who he got on well with. He had never even seen this Matsuyo girl before, he hadn’t exchanged so much as a word with her. What if he didn’t like her? Arranged marriage was a common occurrence among those of the higher classes, but he had felt confident that such traditions might be overlooked in a place as remote as this.
His father seemed to sense his apprehension, addressing him by his full name, Satou standing to attention reflexively.
“Satou Hisamoto, this marriage will benefit your family greatly. As the inheritor of this shoen you must put the needs of your community before your own. Remember the old adage, ‘those who come together in passion stay together in tears’. It is not only politically expedient to wed this girl, but it will make you happier in the long run. Your mother and I were wed in much the same way.”
Satou bowed his head, not daring to argue with his father, and his mother chimed in with a cheerful expression on her face.
“Do not worry Satou, you’ll like her! She’s a fine young lady, and she will make you a fine bride.”
Satou could not defy his parents, and so he acquiesced, bowing his head as he resumed his meal.
“As you wish, mother, father…”
xxxxx
“I want you to open the sluice gate this season,” Satou’s father said, walking beside his son as they made their way along the grassy embankment of one of the rice paddies. “The fields are all prepared and the rice is ready to be planted, it is time.”
“Me?” Satou asked.
“Yes you.”
“Shouldn’t one of the laborers do it?”
“Satou, if you are to lead this community one day, you must learn every aspect of the shoen’s operation. The sluice gate is essential for irrigating the paddies, the farm cannot function without it. Follow the dry stream bed up from the highest paddy, it will serve as a footpath, and after three miles you will reach the gate. Take a rake with you, and remove any dead leaves that might be clogging the flow, then open it up.”
“Isn’t the sluice gate … to the Northeast, up the mountain? Nagao says that I am not to travel that way alone.”
“Nagao is an old man who thinks that there are yokai hiding behind every tree,” his father replied impatiently. Satou considered for a moment. He was always looking for opportunities to venture out into the wilderness on his own, and this was as good an excuse as any. He wouldn’t exactly be treading new ground, generations of laborers had been up and down that path a hundred times, but he would be able to spend some time alone in the woods at least.
“As you wish, father.”
That seemed to please the man, and he patted his son on the back with his calloused hand.
“It is a great honor to be responsible for the sluice gate, opening it signifies the beginning of the growing season, a time of plenty. I will have someone fetch you a rake.”
xxxxx
The dry stream bed wound its way through the trees, hugging a sheer rock face on the left as it climbed its way up the mountainside. It had been carved out two generations prior by the original settlers, and it was intended to divert the water flow from a mountain stream and redirect it down into the rice paddies. It was quite a feat of engineering, Satou didn’t want to imagine the time and effort that must have been required to dig a three mile long ditch in this rough terrain. He had his rake with him, and he paused occasionally to clear away the dead leaves and debris that had fallen into the recess.
The forest was quiet save for the rustling of the trees and the sounds of chirping cicadas, there was a pleasant breeze to stave off the humidity and the canopy above shielded him from the sun. It was certainly more pleasant work than tilling paddies.
After a while he finally heard the sound of running water, and he spied a small waterfall in the distance. Here fresh water from melted snow made its way down from the icy peak, cascading down the rock face before reaching the forest soil, then carving a new channel down the mountainside. As he marveled at the natural beauty of the scene, he came across the sluice gate. It was carved from rock, like a miniature dam with two possible routes, one of which was currently blocked with a wooden panel that was slotted into grooves in the stonework.
Satou kneeled and reached into the water, feeling the cool liquid against his skin, then removed the wooden panel. Immediately the water began to spill into the stream bed, and he quickly placed the panel into the adjacent groove. He stood and watched as the stream was redirected, slowly making its way down towards the shoen. When it reached the highest rice paddy it would fill it until it almost looked like a pond in its own right, and then the water would cascade down into the lower paddies, and so on and so forth until each one was full to the brim with fresh water. Then the laborers would plant the rice seedlings, and the growing season could commence.
He sat beside the stream and dipped his fingers into the flowing water, enjoying the sensation. There was nobody to order him around up here, nobody to prevent him from taking a deserved rest for a few minutes. His father so often acted as if pausing even for a moment to take a breather would somehow impact his productivity. ‘You must serve as an example to the other villagers Satou’, he would say, as if being a leader meant that you could never catch your breath.
Come to think of it, there was nobody here to prevent him from exploring either. As regimented as his father was, Satou thought it unlikely that the man would know precisely how long it would take him to climb the mountain, and then return. The water would arrive long before he did, which would serve as proof that the work had been completed.
He looked up at the waterfall as it splashed against the rocky outcrops, and he wondered where it came from. What lay above that rock face? Did the water pool in places, or was it a continuous stream that came all the way down from the snowy peak? If he followed it a little ways up the mountain, it would be impossible to get lost, and his father would be none the wiser. He briefly considered Nagao’s warning, but he hadn’t encountered any evil spirits so far, perhaps the old man really was just blowing hot air.
He stood and stretched, appraising the forest ahead as he planned his route. He didn’t want to risk climbing the rock face, but he could skirt around the edge of it and find another way up, then follow the stream up the mountainside. Using his rake as a walking stick, he began his explorations.
xxxxx
The stream snaked through the forest, Satou marveling at how it traced the natural contours of the land, carving through the soil as it sought out the path of least resistance. He had been following it for perhaps another mile, the incline here steep and the woodland dense, ferns and other roughage making the going more difficult. He had to be careful of protruding roots, twisting his ankle or taking a fall up here would be dangerous, as nobody knew that he had left the beaten path.
This was unexplored forest, he could be sure of it, not only due to the harsh terrain but because of the superstitions that so many of the older villagers seemed to share. They would come this way to find water to irrigate the farm, yes, but they would venture no further if they didn’t have to. He laughed to himself, imagining them scattering roasted soybeans all the way in an attempt to ward of spooks and ghouls.
The water was crystal clear, so pure that he could see the stones and pebbles beneath it that had been smoothed and polished over the eons. At one point he came across a deer that was drinking from it, taking a moment to watch the majestic creature before it noticed him, prancing off into the forest with surprising grace and speed. It moved like it was itself a ghost, unhindered by the bushes and plants that served as an almost impenetrable barrier for Satou.
He felt happy, at peace, the songs of birds and insects his only company as he made his way into the unknown. Was he not his father’s son, if he was not burdened with the responsibilities of stewardship and marriage, he would have liked to dedicate his life to mapping these mountains. He would make a record of every tree and stone, give a name to every peak, explore every crag and cave. Alas, the closest he could come to that aspiration right now was taking a short hike off a well trodden path.
As he walked, he began to hear the roar of splashing water. It sounded like another waterfall, larger than the first, somewhere up ahead. The trees were too dense to see through, and so he followed the stream towards the noise. He arrived at the edge of a clearing, the trees so tightly packed that they almost formed a solid wall around it, and he poked his head between two of the thick trunks to get a look. Before him was a shining pool that fed into the stream, with a tall cliff behind it from which the waterfall that he had heard was gushing. The liquid reflected the sun as it took what must be a thirty foot plunge, kicking up a cloud of mist where it pounded the rocks below, creating a hazy rainbow in the air. It was a beautiful scene, pristine, the surface of the water reflecting the sky above to give it an azure shine.
Satou had discovered something entirely new, a small wonder of nature that had been hidden away on the mountain. He felt a surge of excitement and pride, his curiosity and wanderlust vindicated in some small way. He couldn’t tell anyone of course, his father would punish him for straying from his duty, but he knew that it was here and that was enough for him.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight, but just as he was considering turning around and heading back, a sudden movement caught his eye. The trees to the right of the shimmering pool were moving, shaking, as if something large was making its way through them. Satou grasped the wooden handle of his rake in his hands, fearing that it might be a large boar or some kind of bear. The wood creaked, the undergrowth rustling, heavy footsteps becoming louder and overpowering the sound of the waterfall as whatever it was neared the edge of the clearing. It could not be a bear, it could not be an ox or a boar, they didn’t make sounds like this. Whatever was making the noise sounded like it was walking on two legs…
A monstrous figure emerged from the trees, pushing them aside as if the solid trunks were as flexible as mere reeds. It was a giant, humanoid in shape, and at least eight feet tall. It was so large that its head very nearly skirted the treetops.
Satou recoiled in terror, his blood running cold as he hurried to conceal himself in the dense brush. He wanted to flee, but his legs had turned to jelly, he couldn’t muster the strength. All he could do was watch as the figure emerged into the light.
The first thing that he noticed was its red complexion. Its massive, brutish body was clad in what looked like animal pelts, carelessly stitched together to form a cloak with no concern for whether they matched in color or in pattern. He could make out the dark pelts of bears, the spotted coats of deer, and the distinct reds of tanuki and foxes. Where its body was visible beneath the haphazard covering that the giant had wrapped about itself, the skin was as red as a blushing cheek, uniform in color and texture.
The second thing to jump out at him was its mane of white hair. It looked like a wispy cloud was perched atop its head, hair as white as snow cascading over its broad shoulders and down to the small of its back, much like a waterfall in its own right. It looked so fluffy and thick, enormous and puffy, Satou had never seen anything like it. Everyone that he had ever met had been pale or tanned in complexion, with straight, black hair. This creature was so exotic and strange in comparison.
He realized that he was holding his breath, watching as it dipped a bare foot into the pond. It seemed to be testing the water, did it intend to bathe?
As if to answer his unspoken question, the great figure shed its cloak, and Satou’s mouth hung agape. It was a woman! A woman larger and more heavily built than any that he had ever laid eyes on, yet distinctively a woman none the less.
The moment that her thick cloak fell about her feet, his gaze was drawn to her figure, curvy and feminine. She had round thighs as thick as the tree trunks that she had so easily pushed aside, and above them were wide, flared hips that tapered into a pinched waist to give her an alluring hourglass shape. She wore a loincloth that just barely served to preserve her modesty, made from the same mismatched material as the long cloak.
Her torso was heavily muscled, thick and strong, Satou had never even seen a man that was this powerfully built. She looked able to lift an ox as if it was no heavier than a dog, a six pack of firm abdominal muscles bulging conspicuously from beneath her crimson skin, flexing and shifting as she moved in a way that was almost mesmerizing. They looked like they had been chiseled from stone, the humid day making them slick and shiny with moisture, reflecting the sunlight that washed over them. His heart skipped a beat as he traced the contours of her muscular body with his eyes, reaching a pair of monumental breasts. They were as large as a full sack of rice, the kind that a grown man had to sling over his back to carry, her sumptuous bosom contained within a sling made from animal pelts.
Her arms too were just as developed as her torso, large and toned, but not unpleasantly so. The musculature of her shoulders was so finely detailed, the shadows cast by the sun accentuating every bump and bulge, her biceps each the size of his head. Even so, her features did not detract from her femininity, she was so large that they seemed almost appropriate on her massive frame.
His cheeks flushed near the same red as her skin as his eyes rose to her face, her sharp and striking features standing out beneath her mop of silky hair. She was downright beautiful, with a straight nose and full lips, her eyes a captivating shade of gold. They were framed by long lashes and bushy eyebrows that were the same pristine white as her fluffy mane. From her forehead protruded a pair of long, straight horns. Unlike those of a deer or an ox, they weren’t bony, they were the same color as her skin.
Every woman that Satou had ever met had been meek, small, unassuming. His mother had always made a point of being quiet and feminine, of deferring to his father in all matters, but this one was completely different. It was like she had stepped in from another world, he could sense confidence radiating from her as she stepped into the pool, the water rising to her knees.
He realized that he might be peeking, but his curiosity could not be sated. Not only had he discovered what must be some new tribe of monsters or ogres that shared the mountain, but it was … a woman. Satou had never seen a woman before, not in the flesh at least, not bare for all the world to see. He was old enough to marry now, he had become a man, but his position as heir to the shoen meant that his interactions with those outside his own social class had been rather limited. Boys and girls were educated separately, and every woman in the village was of a lower class than him, save for his mother. His conversations with them were formal and stilted at the best of times.
He felt painfully aware of every breath that he took, of every rustle of the ferns that he was hiding behind as he watched, his mouth becoming dry and his heart beating like a drum. The strange woman proceeded deeper into the pool, the water rising to her waist. She reached behind her back and unfastened the sling that served as her top, casting the garment towards the bank and letting her breasts fall free.
Satou’s eyes were drawn to them with an almost magnetic power, the twin globes of supple flesh wobbling gently as they hung from her chest. They were impossibly large, so voluminous that he could have fit his head inside one of them several times over, her oddly colored skin shining like varnished wood. Her nipples were pink, standing out against her rosy skin, and he felt a twinge in his nethers as she reached a cupped hand into the water and began to wash them.
Her hands slid across their glass-smooth surface, the weight of them making the fat spill through her fingers like melting candle wax when she lifted them, the globes deforming and spreading as she cleaned herself. Her slim fingers roamed down her torso, wetting her abdominal muscles, so prominent that she could have used them as a washboard. It was not a sensual display, she was just going about her business, but Satou was captivated. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the strange figure as she washed under her arms, then splashed water on her face.
She submerged her head, her massive puff of hair floating on the surface for a moment before it became waterlogged and sank. She vanished, and for a second Satou panicked, fearing that she might emerge somewhere unforeseen and catch sight of him by chance.
Instead she surfaced in the same place, taking a deep breath and throwing her mop of wet hair back over her shoulders with her arms. It sprayed droplets of water that glistened in the light, her white mane now damp and heavy, clinging to her back. She ran her fingers through it, her eyes closed and her face tilted towards the mist created by the waterfall, no doubt enjoying the sensation. He watched as she continued to bathe, running her hands over her arms and neck, and then she reached down between her legs.
When she withdrew her hand, it was clasping her animal skin loincloth, Satou’s blood pulsing in his ears as he watched her fling it towards the bank where the rest of her clothes were piled. Her hands moved beneath the water, the woman washing her lower body, but the surface of the pool was so reflective that it completely obscured her. All that he could see was a mirror image of the blue sky above. It was frustrating, the smooth mound of her lower abdomen was tantalizingly visible above the pool, but he couldn’t make out anything below it.
With a start, he realized what a precarious situation he was in. Perhaps Nagao had been right all along, and this was some evil spirit, or a monster that preyed on unwary travelers. Even a normal woman would be angry if she caught him peeping, never mind this gigantic, red beast. She might well pull his arms out of his sockets for daring to dishonor her.
He willed his limbs to move, and ever so slowly, he began to creep back in the direction that he had come. He was wary of twigs and bushes, he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, and he retraced his steps back down the stream towards the sluice gate. When he was certain that he was out of earshot, he increased his pace, not quite jogging but walking swiftly. His adventuring had very nearly gotten him into trouble, what if he had arrived a minute earlier, and he had taken a dip in the pool himself? He would have been out in the open when the giant had arrived.
On the other hand he had discovered something entirely unknown, and he had been rewarded with a closer and more intimate look at a woman than he had ever expected to see before his wedding night. His heart was still pounding and his head was swimming with unfamiliar thoughts and desires. She had been so beautiful, unearthly, magnificent. He couldn’t get the scenes of her glistening, red body out of his head, like the afterimage that lingered after glancing at the sun.
He wanted to tell everyone, to proclaim to the whole village what he had found, but he dared not speak a word of it to anyone. Besides the fact that his father would be furious at him for venturing into the wilderness, some of the villagers were very superstitious and they might become frightened.
He reached the smaller waterfall that fed into the sluice gate, and before long he was making his way back down the path towards home. The stream was flowing now, running down the mountain, and it was probably already beginning to fill the rice paddies. Satou was carried by a mixture of exhilaration and fear, alternating between marveling at his discovery, and looking over his shoulder to make sure that there was no red demon on his tail.
What was that woman? Maybe Nagao would know? It might be worth asking him if the old man could keep a secret.
xxxxx
“You have done well Satou,” his father said, gesturing to the topmost rice paddy. It was brimming with clear water, overflowing down into the next terrace, the dragonflies already swarming as they prepared to make it their new home. “We can begin planting now, the harvest this year will be excellent I’m sure.” He paused for a moment, looking his son up and down. “You seem distracted, did something happen up on the mountain?”
The question snapped Satou out of his stupor, and he shook his head.
“No, father. I’m just a little tired from the hike.”
“Well I have some news that should cheer you up,” he said with a smile. “Your wife to be, the Matsuyo girl, will be visiting tomorrow. You will be able to meet her before the wedding.”
“O-Oh,” Satou stammered, “that will be … nice.”
“She is a fine girl of good stock,” his father said as he looked out over the rice paddies, where some of the laborers were already preparing the seedlings for planting. “She will do our family proud.”
“Yes…”
“Why don’t you go down and help them, Satou? It will do you good to see how the planting goes.”
Satou nodded, and made his way down towards where the laborers were congregating.
“What do you know of giants?” Satou asked, leaning down to plant a seedling in the wet soil from a straw basket that was strapped across his back. The water in the paddy was as deep as his ankles, and he could feel the cool mud between his toes.
Nagao gave him a quizzical look as Satou did his best to sound casual.
“You have an interest in my folk tales all of a sudden, young Satou? You were so quick to dismiss them before. Why the change of heart?”
“No reason,” he replied with a shrug.
“What manner of giant are you speaking of?” the old man asked as he dug a furrow in the earth with his thumb and then filled it with a fresh seedling. The plants had already germinated in a seedbed, and now the laborers were transplanting the growing stalks into the wet field.
“I just wondered if you knew of any stories about giant people living in the mountains.”
“Where did you hear about such things? Is one of the old women in the village spreading soybeans to ward off Oni again?”
“What’s an Oni?”
“Oni are a kind of yokai, a bad spirit. They are said to be wardens of Jigoku, the afterlife where sinners are sent to pay penance. There they carry out sentences and torment those who were evil in life.”
“What do they look like?”
“They’re very large and strong. They’re said to have wild hair, strangely colored skin, and horns protruding from their heads.”
“If they’re said to torment sinners,” Satou mused, “wouldn’t that make them good? They’re law enforcers, honorable people.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Nagao replied, groaning as he rose from a crouch and placed a hand on the small of his back. “Oh, I’m getting too old for this kind of work,” he grumbled. “The legends describe Oni as brutish and warlike, they’re usually depicted carrying a giant iron club.”
“What would you do if you came across one out in the woods?”
“I’d turn tail and hope that it didn’t see me,” Nagao laughed. He glanced at Satou suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. “You traveled Northeastward up the mountain today, did you not? Your father was talking about how you were to open the sluice gate this season. I assume he sent you alone?”
“That’s true,” Satou said nervously. “I opened the gate today.”
“Perhaps you opened more than one kind of gate?”
Satou didn’t reply, crouching to plant another seedling.
“You know…” Nagao continued. “If a member of the shoen’s ruling family was to ask me to keep a secret, I would be honor bound to obey, lowly peasant that I am. Hypothetically speaking of course, if a certain young man had disobeyed his father’s wishes and gone exploring instead of accomplishing his assigned task and heading straight home, I wouldn’t rat him out. Assuming of course that this young man stopped beating around the bush and told me about the Oni that he so obviously saw.”
“Okay,” Satou sighed, “I did see … something.”
“Tell me about it!” Nagao whispered excitedly.
“I followed the stream up past the sluice gate, I wanted to see where it came from.”
“Of course you did,” Nagao sighed, “it seems that your curiosity can’t be helped.”
“After following the stream for maybe a mile, I came across a waterfall that drained into a large pool from the cliffs above. Then a great beast emerged from the woods to my right. It was a person, but twice the height of any that I’ve ever seen before. She had skin the color of an akaibara flower, and a huge mass of white hair, with two horns sprouting from her forehead. I watched her for a while, then I turned around and headed back.”
“I told you that there were bad spirits to the Northeast,” Nagao chided, “it has been known for generations that traveling that way brings bad luck. Did the Oni see you?”
“No,” Satou replied, “I’m sure of it.”
“You wouldn’t have made it back here if it had,” the old man said pointedly. “Far be it from me to order you around, but you should not go there again. I know you Satou, you are too curious for your own good. You didn’t heed my warnings the first time, now fate has given you a second opportunity to take my advice, so please do as I ask and keep away from that pool. Do not travel beyond the sluice gate again, unless you seek to end up in the belly of a yokai, or if you wish to bring doom down on our shoen.”
“Alright,” Satou grumbled.
“Needless to say, you shouldn’t speak of this to anyone else. The people here will either think you crazy, or it will send them into a superstitious frenzy. Let’s keep this between you and me.”
Satou nodded, reaching behind him to pluck a new seedling from his basket.
“Though I have to say,” Nagao added, “you are quite the young explorer. I doubt anyone has seen an Oni in the flesh for a very long time.”
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE