Atop a Tree That Reaches the Clouds (15)

The merperson sings beneath the moonlight.

As though reminiscing about the past.

No—in truth, she probably is reminiscing.

What Mizuyo is singing about tonight is not the distant past but the more recent past: the story of warriors who fought the oni about fifty years ago.

Fifty years is long enough for one or two generations to pass among humans, but it means something different to her as a merperson.

Long ago, apparently, a group of merfolk children once approached the forbidden territory of the oni.

Children are mischievous and full of curiosity, and sometimes know no fear.

Indeed, the more adults tell them they mustn't do something, the more they want to break that taboo.

Apparently, that aspect of children is the same in humans and merfolk.

Even so, breaking a taboo like that would not really cause much of a problem.

There were few ways to capture merfolk beneath the sea, and the children never went ashore; after getting a little thrill from testing their courage, they would sneak back home satisfied.

As the children grew into adults, they came to understand how harsh the battles fought on land truly were.

Once they began working in transport, they would also repeatedly experience the sorrow of seeing humans and winged folk they knew go to the front lines and never return.

...But that time, the children were unlucky.

After all, in the oni territory they had gone to spy on, they really did encounter an oni—and not just any oni, but a tattooed one who wielded sorcery.

The children were caught by the oni's sorcery and carried away to its fortress.

That sorcery was probably the same magic I know.

The demonfolk who became the oni's ancestors transformed themselves with magic power, turning themselves into monsters.

Perhaps they called it evolution, but in any case, there was no doubt that they had been highly skilled at wielding magic power.

Naturally, that process must have been deeply connected to magic.

In other words, might the tattoos the oni wore be patterns of spell formulas, like those I and Kaushuman carve into weapons and tools, and the sigilists of the Huanggu Empire draw in ink on talismans?

In any case, when the merfolk learned that the missing children had been abducted by the oni, they panicked.

Even if the oni did not eat them right away, children kept away from the water for too long would eventually die from the change in environment.

As the circumstances surrounding Fusang's founding make clear, merfolk feel an exceptionally strong love for their own kind.

All the more so when it came to children.

But they could not go to the land where the oni fortress stood—and if they attacked the fortress, they had no way of knowing how many humans and winged folk would be harmed.

They wanted to ask for help, but they could not force their fellow beings on land and in the sky to deal with a blunder made by their own kind.

That was how the merfolk agonized over the problem, apparently.

But unable to bear abandoning the children, one merperson asked a human she happened to meet for help.

The merperson was the older sister of one of the abducted children, while the human was apparently a martial artist known for his prowess.

After hearing the story from the abducted child's older sister, the martial artist said,

"Leave it to me. I'll rescue your little brother for you, sis."

He said it without even a hint of hesitation, then used his connections to gather companions.

Apparently, that martial artist was a warrior who usually distinguished himself on the front lines; on one of his occasional days off, he went fishing and met her.

Though her brother and the other children had yet to be rescued, she shed tears of relief—and of guilt over putting the warrior and his companions in danger.

"Well, hunting oni is our job. It's nothing for you to worry about, sis. More importantly, I'm counting on you to arrange the boat for our trip."

Apparently, he assigned her that role with a smile.

And so the martial artist and his companions entered the oni territory from the sea and attacked the fortress under cover of night.

She did not witness the battle herself; all she could do was pray for the safety of her brother and the other children, as well as the martial artist and his companions.

But there was no doubt it had been a fierce battle. Before long, flames rose from the fortress, and the martial artist and his companions returned to shore carrying the children.

Her brother and all the other children were safe, but the martial artist's companions had... as expected, been greatly reduced in number.

Even so, not one of them blamed her, her brother, or the other children; they simply rejoiced that everyone was safe.

"Scolding children isn't our job. Have your worried parents give you a good scolding."

That was how they said it, still smiling.

Humans fight bravely—and die.

Even when they do not die in battle, their lives are far shorter than those of merfolk.

At times, their lives seem almost painfully fleeting.

And yet, as a merperson, she still took an interest in such a human.

A human who fought bravely, endured loss, and was strong enough to smile through it all—while remaining so very kind.

After that, her relationship with the martial artist somehow continued without interruption and lasted far longer than expected.

Yes, that was probably the story of Old Man Gon and Mizuyo's past.

Mizuyo's tale is still continuing, while Old Man Gon drinks sake a short distance away, with the moon for company.

Why did Mizuyo tell me that story?

Surely she wanted me to know.

She wanted me, who would live even longer than she would, to know, if only a little, what kind of person the human called Old Man Gon had been.

I understand that feeling very well.

I have learned so much from Mizuyo, so I will carve this story into my heart as well.

The story of the martial artist she loved, her hero.