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#sakuranbou
gifgifk · 1 year
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anicastes · 1 year
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Find peace and move on, spirit!
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redkitsune-art · 1 year
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Urusei Yatsura (うる星やつら)
"Let's put weird and weird together, and make it even weirder!"
I love this anime, SO much so that I wanted to draw some of the cast of the original Urusei Yatsura! (うる星やつら)
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ulmicola · 1 year
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Classic. :)
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briefwerewolfgoatee · 1 month
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CHERRY THE MONK APPRECIATION POST
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madmarchhare · 1 year
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I have failed to give you updates on my other stories as I took a break from them, as my brain skipped tracks onto another story I had to get down. So here is an expert in an early-ish part of that one.
It is set in 1908 norther Japan. This is a small excerpt a while after the characters have already been introduced. I hope you all enjoy it. It is called :
The Monk and the Traveller
“I shall come with you to the next town then, I have some letters to send among other things,” he declared, moving to collect all of his belongings back into his rucksack. Cherry spun round to look at Collier, a flustered expression on his face.
“W-why?!” Cherry managed to force out, at a near total loss for words. Collier swung the now packed rucksack back over his shoulder, next to his Lee Speed and Type 35, taking a moment to adjust them then strode forward, ahead of the monk.
“Not everything needs a reason my good sir! Often just being mildly interesting is enough!” he called back in a boisterous yet sagely tone, Cherry staring after the whirlwind that had just blew past him. He took a second to grumble then stormed forward to the man. Even if his company could be… interesting, he was more likely to get a bed and a meal. Collier marched forward at a confident pace, not a single item on his person rattling, near silent as he strode forward a talent he had learned on his travels. It unnerved the monk. Cherry regarded the man oddly, like one would a spirit that had sat beside you for a meal.
“By they way, Cherry,” Collier began in a curious tone, thinning rain pattering off his bucket hat, “why do you dress like a Shinto priest despite being Buddhist?” Cherry looked up at him with a plain expression, less surprised the foreigner knew the difference than he might’ve been before.
“My-the leader of my temple decided to change our vestments and some our rituals to more closely match Shinto traditions around the time the government began to favour it over Buddhism. He thought it would make our temple more appealing to officials and the locals… He was right for the most part, annoyingly,” Cherry explained drolly, a note of annoyance in his voice as he begrudgingly acknowledged the plans’ success. Or more accurately that that man’s plan succeeded. Collier looked at him with an interested but respectful expression, deciding not to pry in his acquaintances life so soon.
“What about you?” Cherry queried in a sober tone, Collier looking back at him with an enquiring expression, “How do you know so much about Buddhism and Shintoism? You are a foreigner after all,” he finished bluntly, glancing back at the man as the rain finally died away, abandoning the light breeze that had accompanied it.
Collier wore an easy expression, one that seemed to say ‘oh is that all’, “I often spend time in the Raj for hunting and other things. I spent a while at some of the old Buddhist temples and monasteries to learn their teachings. Though I went to other ones as well, I spent some time with Islamists for about a year and two with the Sikhs up in the North-west frontier. I cannot encourage you enough to travel there. Beauty beyond dreams…” Collier trailed off wistfully, staring out ahead of him as he walked, holding his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at the traveller with a stunned expression. “As for Shintoism,” he brusquely resumed, “I came here to Japan a while ago, just after your war with Russia. I mostly stayed in Hokkaido and southern Karafuto[1] hunting with the Ainu, but I also learnt a bit about the Shinto faith from a temple further north. Though I should add that I learn most of Japanese before the trip, just enough to get by,” he added flippantly taking a long stride to get past a small stream that had cut across the path, its source likely having flooded due to the rain. Cherry looked at Collier with a bewildered expression as the hunter outpaced him, leaving the monk to watch the back of his head, or more aptly his hat.
He was strange. That was what Cherry decided, influenced by his sour disposition against the man. He followed on nonetheless, he saw no reason to put much effort in avoiding the man. The journey was not long now, and having traveling companion with loose purse strings could be helpful. Especially considering how the monk was nearly always skint. The sky was grey for a while, exhausted rainclouds lingering in the sky like a now silent orchestra. When the sky broke out into sun, around quarter to eleven, the forest glowed with beauty. Though, it had been so before as well.
Collier’s eyes would dance between flowers and trees glittering from the dew like a child in a sweetshop, grinning as he saw animals busy past. He stopped every so often to pull out a book to jot something down or sketch as he observed some odd bit of flora or fauna. Cherry would begrudgingly wait nearby, taking a moment to pray, occasionally hearing the other man mumble to himself in English as he worked, along with one or two other languages he couldn’t identify. Other times he would walk while he jotted down shorthand notes, not that Cherry could read them.
He spoke in long, drawn out tangents about various animals or other things, denoting how he had seen them when he was out hunting or had gone out specifically for them. He rambled about this that and otherwise while the monk occasionally chimed in, mostly tuning the man out when he spoke. And yet, so much of the journey was silent, the golden atmosphere shining under the summer sun. It was in this silence that Cherry noticed another thing about Collier, how he seemed a presence near you. Distinct and clear. Yet, he walked silently, indeed none of his equipment rattled or made a distinct noise, bar from the swish of fabric or his deliberate steps, somehow light despite his heavy boots and height. He had the presence of a hunter, even as he stood by you smiling like you were a decades old companion, he felt like a hare watched by a kitsune.[2]
They walked for a long while until they came close to the town, encountering a pair of young men with nets draped over their shoulders, one walking barefoot while the other wore sandals. Both wore plain yukata’s the one who wore sandals having his much more finely adjusted.
“Good morning my dear sirs,” Cherry declared, bowing to them as he offered a prayer to them, Collier smiling at them as he tipped his hat to the two men, who bowed in response, the barefooted man ducking out of it before the other and staring at Collier curiously. “I am currently traveling in hope to bring aid and enlightenment to myself and any I may meet. I am looking for Aisuge, am I correct in assuming it is this way?” gesturing with his staff as he smiled at the men, a wide Cheshire cat grin once again fixed on his face.
The man in sandals nodded, pointing down the path before he spoke, “yes, if you just follow this path, you will find it shortly,” he instructed, his words stilted as if he had trouble talking, though his face seemed quite intelligent.
“Thank you for your kindness, may the Buddha bless your endeavours,” Cherry bade them, a grace like that of a priest surrounding him as he did, bowing as he offered them a prayer. He spun and continued down the path determinedly while Collier stopped to talk to the, as he discovered, fisherman. Cherry walked on while Collier chatted to the two men about fishing spots, and what they recommended as certain baits for the area or where waterfowl tended to be. The town was much larger than the last one, the streets being paved and a few western style buildings rising out of construction sites, though not many. He smiled and waived at a few people as he passed, offering brusque but sincere prayers to them as he dashed to the post office, near single minded in his search.
He found it after a while, a rather small building made of wood constructed in a western style, comparatively new compared to the buildings that pressed against it on either side. A post man was walking out of the entrance as Cherry approached, tipping his hat to greet the Monk, rushing off to his deliveries. He pushed open the door and walked in, the clerk looking up from the newspaper he was reading with a surprised expression. He was a young man dressed in a postman’s uniform, a dark blue hakama with white kanji characters on it denoting his job, a white scarf pattered with flowers at the tips wrapped around his neck seemingly his own personal touch. His hair was done in a bowl-cut but with a trimmed back fringe, pitch black like ink. “Good afternoon,” he muttered weakly, offering a nervous smile to Cherry.
“Good afternoon,” Cherry replied kindly, smiling at the man with a look of zen on his face, “do you have any mail for a Nekomata Sakuranbou?”[3] He leaned over the man as he asked, a pensive smile pulled over his features.
The clerk seemed to settle down, and nodded jerkily, “yes, I do believe we have some mail for that name. I was wondering why the address was so strange,” he replied, rifling through a assortment of letters then picking one out, “but I suppose a wandering monk wouldn’t have one would he…?” he trailed off weakly, smiling at his own joke. His voice was frail, thin, seemingly straining just to be audible though he smiled at Cherry. His face then shifted into a harder expressions he pulled the letter away, almost shielding it with his person, “you are Nekomata-san? Aren’t you?” he questioned sternly squinting at the monk.
Cherry smiled at him still, rolling his eyes underneath his eyelids, “yes, I am, why else would I ask for that name?” Cherry responded, forcing his words to sound sweet, cocking his head at the man while he gripped his hands together, balancing his staff in the crook of his arm.          
“You could want to know his information so that you could rob him,” the clerk offered innocently, Cherry cursing that the man didn’t get that the question was rhetorical, “or you could be trying to steal his identity, or wanting to curse him for despoiling the shrine you work at… Or you could be a yokai!” the young man cried excitedly, smiling giddily.
“I am not a yokai! I am a monk!” Cherry snapped indignantly, waiving his staff at the young man, who flinched back in response.
“A tanuki then? Though you being a Nekomata would be more obvious…” he again muttered weakly, still recoiled like a frightened cat, his arms splayed ahead of him.
“No!” Cherry again snapped, then calming down and sighing, “I’m just here for my mail please, I’m not a yokai, I am the Nekomata the letter is mean for,” he droned exhaustedly, wanting to move past the charade quickly.
The young man blinked then relaxed, “oh, yeah sure,” holding the letter out for the monk who quickly snatched it from his hands and tore it open, pouring over it quickly, panic in his eyes. Then he saw a specific line on the letter and visible slackened, his face relaxing significantly as he read on at a more leisurely pace. When he finished the letter he lowered it, a relived expression on his face as he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.
“They’re alright,” he muttered serenely, smiling to himself as he turned back around to the clerk, now back by his desk. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper? I need to send a reply,” Cherry asked levelly, smiling slightly at the man.
The clerk flustered for a moment, “oh, yes, sure,” he babbled quickly, sifting through shelves to grab a piece of writing paper and an envelope before shoving the former towards the holy man.
“Thank you,” Cherry replied dignifiedly, drawing the piece of paper closer while he pulled out a yatate[4] from his belt, a beautiful piece made of shakudō[5], the metal having darkened into a deep black-indigo colour. He opened it and withdrew the brush from it, the smoking-pipe shaped piece holding it in its neck, and snapped open the lid of the ink box with his little finger before he pressed the brush’s bristles into the oil-damp cotton that was sat inside it. He pulled the genkō yōshi[6] paper under his pen and began writing.Cherry’s witing was somewhat scruffy, often taking liberties in how he would form kanji or katanaka where he assumed the letters recipient would know what he meant. His prose, however, was not lacking. The words he wrote were quite eloquent, though he flip-flopped between formality and closeness depending on who he mentioned in the letter. He finished after a moment, washing and drying the brush before slotting it back into its compartment and snapping shut the ink box before hiding it back around his belt.
“Please may you deliver this,” pressing the paper towards the clerk who was ready with an envelope, “to Nekomata ­­__ , they live at the Buddhist ­temple near Yamagata. If you can’t find it, give the letter to Akisei Makoto, he’ll get it to her,” he instructed dully, seemingly used to giving these orders.
The clerk flashed a cheeky smile at his customer, “a letter to a fiancé or wife?” he asked slyly, but received a look of horror and disgust from the monk in response.
“It’s for my Onee-san[7],” he responded insulted, seeming to cringe away from the clerk.
“Ah, sorry,” the clerk blurted out flustered, looking somewhat hurt at his won joke reception regardless. He sealed the letter in an envelope and pulled stamp from a drawer in his desk, “Alright, that’ll be six yen,” the clerk declared, moving the stamp and letter towards Cherry, though keeping his hands on both. The skint monk looked at him silently for a moment, before shifting his staff to his other hand.
“My dear sir,” he began darkly bowing his back to he was closer to eye-level with the man, “I have neglected to inform you until now, but I believe you may be possessed by a spirit,” he fabricated, though the other man seemed to twitch at that, his scarf fluttering from the movement longer than it should’ve, though Cherry decided to put it aside for the moment. “But, I am more than willing and qualified to aid you. I simply need six yen to begin the exorcism,” he finished grandly, again his eyes being caught by the scarf around the clerk’s neck, now seemingly tighter than before. The clerk tugged at the scarf with one finger nervously while he smiled at Cherry, and uneasy smile on his face.
“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, stammering slightly.
“Are you sure?” Cherry replied in slight surprise. Though how much of it was a show was anyone’s guess.
“Yes! I’m quite fine, but I don’t mind paying for your stamp! It’ll be delivered as soon as the postman comes back,” he babbled out nervously, squirming in his own clothes under the monk’s gaze. Cherry looked slightly perturbed in response, narrowing his eyes at the man to study him further.
“Very well… But, I must insist that you call for me if you need help with spirits or if you simply wish to talk,” the monk offered sincerely, a stern faced look on his face.
“Thank you for the offer, Nekomata-san,” he called back nervously as the monk moved to leave, chuckling slightly, “I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”
“Thank you…” Cherry began to say as he left, trailing off as he came to the unknown of the clerks name.
“Okade,” the clerk blurted out, trying to rush out the monk.
“Okade-san, again I am more than willing to help. May you find great fortune,” he called as he spun to leave, waving to Okade with one hand as he gave his blessing. Okade stared out after the Buddhist as he left, placing a shaking hand on his scarf which shifted under his touch.
Cherry strode calmly out of the post office, glancing down at a cluster of young children who were playing near the patio’s edge. When the first one spotted him his face twisted into the shock horror of a student seeing their teacher outside of class, turning tale and running before he even considered telling his friends. A few other boys looked up, taking on similar looks and dashing away like petty thieves who spotted a policeman. They abandoned the rest.
“Children seem to take after sparrows”, Cherry muttered to himself, sauntering over to the remaining boys, along with one girl who had not been warned. He loomed over them watching what game they were playing. Marbles, it seemed. They had quite a few, ranging from dull clay to beautiful pattered glass. After a moment, the girl seemed to notice the shadow that now hung over them and looked up at Cherry, the other boys looking up as well. They all again stiffened, worried they would be told off or cursed.
“Who’s winning?” Cherry asked simply, a deadpan expression on his face, bar a slight smile at the corner of his lips. They looked perplexed at first but seemed to brighten up once they realized he was not there to scold them.
“I am!” the girl piped up in a boisterous tone, smiling a widely, revealing a pair of missing teeth, one on the left of her top jaw, the other on the right of her bottom jaw. One of the other boys, this one with shirt cropped hair, turned to her with an irate expression.
“That’s because you’re cheating! I’m winning really!” the boy accused her, looking up confidently as he finished his retort.
“No I am not!” the girl snapped shoving her face into the boys with a snarling expression.
“Yes you are!” the boy disputed. They continued on returning shots to each other as if passing a ball while the other boys looked at them boredly, likely having seen the performance multiple times before.                                 
[1] Japanese name for Sakhalin, an island to the North of the Japanese Island of Hokkaido and to the East of the Russian region of Siberia around Vladivostok. Fully controlled by Russia after the Second World War.
[2] Kitsune, a type of Japanese Yokai (Spirit or monster), that looks like a fox. Some may have multiple tails.
[3] Cherry’s full name. Sakuranbou, his given name, means Cherry, which he prefers to be called. But, in Kanji it literally means ‘a deranged monk’. Nekomata, his family name, means ‘Cat Spirit’.
[4] A portable Japanese writing implement
[5]
[6]
[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to ones older sister, or a female friend you are friendly with, with their permission.
@thewormsheep @ninety-s-kid @mimigoey @https-true-egoist @httpghostface @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @sleepy-gry
@shax-lied @shandzii @shark-smuggler
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karabuki-san · 7 years
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Pani Poni Dash, ep17
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thenameiskomifu · 3 years
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Cherry Is Sweet But You - PROGENY CLAIM
KomiFu
Teaser
Sakuranbou is a new student in the Star Primary School (SPS). She got really much things to bear under her hand. The Mystery moved her to solve all the case, but nothing she can help in front of the court. Who knows Cherry never be sweet without sour? The same taste will came out of their heart as a sadness, but she knows. That The Sweetness will prove the true happiness.
Ready in wattpad jan2021
(This is my achievement for my hobby^^)
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travelosakatour · 6 years
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., Haru Ichigo cocktail and Sakura Sakuranbou cocktail : 141JPY... The both cocktails are Spring limited edition... . see my blog for more information!!! . ↓       ↓      ↓       ↓ blog:https://osakatraveler.net Instagram IG : osaka_traveler_ facebook : Travel Osaka Lover If you have any inquiries about loacal tour to us, plese feel free to send your message to DM(only tour) we look forward to joining you to our tour #OSAKA #오사카 #world #worldtravel  #worldtrip #Kyoto #KOBE #NARA #여행스타그램 #hkig #hongkonger #vacation #Japan #travel #traveler #trip #holiday #travelling #tourism #instagood #旅行 #Travelgram #Instajapan #Instagramers #jpig #旅 #Nippon #twig #krig #osaka_traveler_
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gifgifk · 1 year
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anicastes · 1 year
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He brought a whole manual about the best ways to propose to a woman with him!
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madmarchhare · 8 months
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The Monk and the Traveller. [Final Snippet]
This is discontinuous to the rest of the previous snippets I have posted of this story. It comes at near the very end and therefore contains spoilers as a result. For this I apologize for those who wish to read the whole story, which I intend to publish.
The story remains set in 1908, now in the area around the city of Yamagata, in Yamagata prefecture. I am not native to Japan nor have I ever visited, so please do forgive and correct me if I have made errors in description. I hope you all enjoy.
Eventually, they broke through the tree-line of the forest, coming out in the wee hours of the mourning before the sun had risen. The city was close in view, just down a road that the trio followed to enter the city. As they came up to its outskirts the beginnings of dawn lit up around them, young beams of light scattering against the city’s buildings like breakwaters, leaving long shadows that striped and pockmarked the street. They walked down the street, alone bar from a few early risers and tired policemen, glancing half-heartedly at the trio, flinching at the weapons both Collier and Yamato wore, though only the latter seemed concerned with these looks. They followed Cherry, Collier checking street signs as he attempted to place himself, while Cherry had long memorised the streets, repeatedly having been sent out to collect things for his father, or indeed the man himself. When they came to a particular junction, Collier turned to Cherry.
“I’ll see you off here for now, I want to drop off the bear before it begins to rot, and to drop of my guns,” he explained, Yamato shifting to stand closer to Collier, Cherry nodding, not all that concerned over it. “I’ll meet you at the post office or around there,” he added, Cherry slightly confused as to why he was coming back to see him when he remembered Yamato, and how he was going to have to take him.
He nodded dismissively to the pair, not that bothered by their departure, more agitated by the idea of them coming back, “yes, yes, see you soon,” he called back, already walking away to his own destination as he made his snappish farewell. He found the post office quickly, weaving through the back alleys and not-quite paths that littered the city, warming up under the awakening sun as people began to emerge form their houses, sliding open fusama[1] to step out into the new day. It seemed the post office itself was just awakening, a man changing the signs around it to show it was open and departing inside. He had just sat down inside, preparing himself for a busy day of work when Cherry slammed open the door, making the man’s heart leap out of his chest from fright. “I’m here for a delivery!” Cherry roared, the older clerk staring at him with a breathless expression as he clutched at his breast in fear.
He panted, attempting to steady his heart as tried to force words from his mouth, wheezing from his suddenly overworked lungs, “N-n-na-ame, please?” he eventually wheezed out, crumpled in his chair.
“Nekomata Sakuranbou,” Cherry answered sternly, leering over the clerk, who looked up at the priests robes nervously considering on some terms whether a spirit had come to take him beyond the Sanzu river[2]. The clerk nodded, asking to be given a moment as he rifled through the deliveries, half afraid he’d find the name in a list of obituaries.
He found it after a moment, letting out a small call of success, lifting up a weighty looking letter, “found it, it just came in… Oh, Nekomata, I remember now you’re Touzen’s son!” the clerk attested, smiling up at Cherry with squinted, watercolour eyes. Cherry himself flinched at the recognition, freezing for a moment before he pulled a pained smile onto his face, no that the clerk seemed to notice that detail.
“Yes,” Cherry confirmed in a formal tone, disguising his discomfort and impatience as he reached for the delivery, the clerk not noticing.
“You haven’t been around in an age! I suppose you’re back to help out at the temple, Touzen told me about the trouble, it’s good of you to help out,” the clerk commented warmly, a smile on his face as he handed the item to Cherry who took it quickly, but paused.
He leered at the man, his eyes veiled as he asked, “when did he tell you?” his voice low as he spoke. The clerk seemed to notice the shift in tone, but disregarded it, smiling widely at the younger man.
“Oh, we were both down in the pleasure district, he was telling me and Sasaki-San,” the clerk informed, carelessly outing the father of his conversation partner.
“I see…” Cherry replied, his voice and smile strained as anger boiled within him, unfortunately not surprised that the man would be pouring money into the pocket of a geisha while bemoaning the waning funds of his temple. “Well, thank you, I wish you well, namusan,” Cherry bid farewell, taking the package and tucking it into his robe, feeling the weight of the money rest heavily on his heart, in both senses. He swept backwards, not lingering as the clerk called a warm goodbye.
“Thank you, good luck with your temple!” Cherry offered an unenthused wave as the last of his form disappeared past the threshold of the office out into the street. He grit his teeth in a snarl, his anger boiling over onto his face at the man’s irresponsibility, though he was used to it in some sense it did not agitate him any less. His teeth shifted over each other, the monk attempting to quench his anger, like a blacksmith forging steel. It was fine, this is why he was back, to help out at the temple and curb some of his father’s excesses, though more aptly to circumnavigate around him. He just had to get to the temple. He assured himself of this, that he’d just have to go, and he kept resolving himself with this internal declaration… But he was still stood where he was, he stared ahead, a nervous smile flickering on his lips as he fussed over the idea, his body refusing to move outright. His vison swirled slightly, blurring at the edges like oil in stagnant water. He felt his beath fall short of his lungs and weight tug at his shoulders as if he was chained by the neck to the street underfoot. He bowed his head slightly, his mouth flopping open as a disbelieving, nervous smile crept onto his features, placing his staff ahead of himself to lean on, gripping with both, somewhat shaking hands his eyes shakily watching the packed dirt below him to attempt to steady himself and move on.
“Ah, there you are Cherry!” Collier called out, his voice making Cherry flinch, snapping to stand up straight, his hat bumping on his staff to lay cocked on his head. He looked back at the approaching pair, Yamato following after the taller man. Collier had changed from his hunting costume, wearing his white suit he had worn at the Surogasu’s inn, now with a white-grey striped shirt with an eyelet collar and French cuffs, the same tiger-tooth cufflinks as before. He had a paisley pattern tie, a mixture of light blues, silvers contrasted by accents of soft greens, rested under a whiteish waistcoat with blue thread on its top edge and brown horn buttons. Though, the outfit seemed dashed by the pair of hiking boots and scruffy spats he had on. Yamato still wore much the same, glancing around nervously around the street as they walked. “Sorry we took so long, a few things cropped up that caused some delay…” he apologized as he approached the monk before falling silent, a look of concern on his face, “are you alright?” he asked, hunching over slightly as he inspected the monk’s face, the latter becoming immediately flustered.
“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, I’m… I’m fine,” Cherry assured, speaking far too quickly at first before he correct himself, assuring Collier that he was fine, using the distraction to actually try and make his statement truer. Collier regarded Cherry cooly, easily parsing through the badly hidden anxiety on the monks face, Yamato seeing the same. But, both men let it lay, knowing it wasn’t their place to pry. They let the monk collect himself, “well, I suppose if you insist on following me, me might as well set off,” Cherry remarked, an unsettled expression on his face even as he attempted to brush past the affair.
“Of course,” Collier agreed, walking after the monk, Yamato nodding in agreement. Cherry lead them forward, through the increasingly crowded streets, the sound of workers, awakening children and the general clamour of life coming as a uniquely human crescendo. Cherry led the pair west, over a number of bridges that mounted various streams and estuaries of the main river that cut through the area. The three men all walked quickly, though for Cherry there was some sense of urgency to his pace, which the other two felt only polite to replicate, getting a few curious stars from people that only become more common as they approached the cities outskirts. And, it was as they did that an authoritative voice called out for them to stop.
“Stop right there!” the three of them turned to the voice, Yamato the wariest at the order, with likely good reason as a policeman approached, his gaze focusing on the young Samurai the most. He was dressed in a well maintained uniform, neatly worn and ironed, as unmarked and spotless as he face, square-jawed, without the blue shadow of stubble, and hard cheeks with unscrupulous, uncompromising eyes. The uniform itself fit perfectly, as if the man was made for it rather than the other way around, made of a deep black fabric, with brass buttons polished so they shone along with similar coloured shoulder bars. The peak of a clean white shirt collar poked up from the fastened collar of the jacket, a black peaked cap with a solid black vison on his head.
He leered down at Yamato, a look of displeasure evident on his face, as if he was looking at a pile of scum dropped at his feet. “The carrying of swords had long been illegal, I am going to have to ask you to come with me to the station,” he ordered, his voice having a dry and uncompromising tenor. Yamato shifted, seemingly preparing to run or to fight his way out of the situation, but Collier intervened before he could.
“I apologize keisatsukan-San[3],” he began steeping in between the two, his voice genial, “this young man is with me, I hired him for the week, I’m sure you can overlook this for now,” he finished, placing a hand on Yamato’s shoulder, the younger man twitching slightly from the contact. But, the officer sneered back in response.
“You don’t get to order me around, foreigner,” he spat back in a sour tone, snubbing the Englishman’s attempt at cordiality. Though, the addresser likely had his reasons.
“It was not an attempt at an order,” Collier apologized, seeming to brush off the policeman’s intended rudeness.
“Then I was simply giving you appropriate warning,” the man declared in monotone arrogance, glaring at Collier and Yamato, though seeming to pay no mind to Cherry. “In any case, I will need documentation from both of you, as you are his employer,” he ordered, attempting to toss Collier earlier assertion at the man in rebuttal. Collier looked at the officer with a disinterred expression more than anything.
“Of course,” he replied, reaching into his jacket and handing the man a small collection of papers, including a smaller one bearing the mark of the city. The officer went through them quickly, stiffening slightly when he got to the last two. “By the way, I was stopped by some other officers earlier and obtained permission, they felt it came under some of my other licences I was already qualified for, among other things,” Collier explained, smiling warmly at the officer, who glared back up at him.
“…Everything seems to be in order,” the man huffed out after a moment, handing Collier back his documents, bottling up his anger as he resumed his well practiced professionalism, “please enjoy your stay,” he bade farewell as he spun on his heel and marched away.
“Thank you keisatsukan-San, have a splendid day yourself!” Collier called kindly, though the man he addressed felt as if he was being mocked. Yamato regarded his temporary employer with interest, though it was seemingly the second time Collier had done this. Cherry looked at him with his usual soured expression, though he was in truth happy for the distraction, and that he didn’t see further delay.
They reached the liminal fringes of the city shortly after that, the feathered edge of urbanisation bleeding into open fields, transient no-man’s lands that soon were consumed by the forest threshold, early morning dew sparkling under the morning light, like ill times star-shells. They passed into forest soon again, the wooded area surrounding the path to Cherry’s shrine. It was the beautiful nature itself that was partly to blame for the temple poor notoriety, the path to it, bar from the well kept and maintained sandō, was overgrown and rocky, despite some attempts to make the path more manageable which were all mostly fruitless. But, one could not deny it was a sight of unrestricted beauty, matched by its unruly wildness. But, not one in the trio found it of great difficulty. Cherry because it was a path that was ingrained into his soul, to the point that shifting soil was memorised. For the other two, it lied in a general mastery of the wild, though the younger Samurai stumbled somewhat still green despite his skill. Birds flitted about overhead, chirping in sing-song gossip as they dived for awakening insects and damp summer berries. As they began to approach what formed the sandō, a well kempt and cleaned paved road of whitish stone that began a good way from the temple as compared to other sites, a flood of flowers surrounded it. Planted by various members of the temple, they were encouraged as a way to calm yourself, as well as improving the appeal of the shrine. Numbers of chrysanthemums in myriad colours, azaleas, hydrangeas in full bloom while others lay past their season, such as iris and some wisteria. Blooming trees, such as cherry blossom, konara[4], Japanese Snowbell and various other non-flowering trees along, mostly evergreens, with messes of Japanese holly. It was a tidy but free assemblage, spread out over the long beauteous path to the sacred. For Collier and Yamato, it was serene, both feeling the typical calm one feels when surrounded by lush trees and blooming flowers.
Unfortunately, this feeling of ease did not reach Cherry. The sight, rather than be a source of calm, only remined him of where and what he was walking into. This was made only more obvious as the temple itself came into sight. It was a grand place, resting on the slope of the mountain that it wrapped around like and inverse crescent. The main building, five stories tall, but stepped backwards, as if the building was leaning back onto the mountainside. The temple had two other building either side of it, spread like the wings of crane, almost embracing those who entered the site. Those buildings were only two stories, with irirmoya[5] roofs, turning into kirizuma[6] at outcroppings that interrupted the engawa[7] that ringed the faces of the buildings. The main parts of all the buildings were painted a holy red, a more recent attempt to align more with local Shinto shrines to gain popularity, with black kawara[8] tiles, painted with light coloured patterns near the edges, done by local children from times long past. The grounds themselves were neat, kept clean with very little growth bar from what could be controlled, but, recently becoming untended as it seemed more important matters cropped up. The entrance itself was protected by a large set of rōmon[9] gates, styled like torii gates, but retaining some aspects of their origin, fused so one large in the centre had smaller ones linked to it on either side.
The trio stepped through the gates, Cherry brushing through the gates like someone enters their own home, which, in all truth, was perfectly appropriate.
A few people were out tending the garden, their robes hiked up at their elbows and above their knees as they trimmed and pruned, but, it was clear there were far too few staff for the size of the place. A few looked up with curious expressions as they saw the foreigner and the small Samurai, worried by the weapons, until they saw Cherry himself. Cherry for his own part didn’t pay them much mind, instead walking forward towards a gable roofed structure with open sides. It was set almost in a dip, the sound of flowing water lightly coming from it as Cherry approached, taking up a ladle and scooping up some fresh water from inside the stone walled vessel and washing his face and hands. Both of his companions also followed the temizuya[10] ritual as their guide, watched by a pair of komainu[11]. As they all finished, they were approached by one of the monks, a man slightly older than Cherry with a shaved head, a trio of moles just above his left brow, dressed in a white kimono and light blue hakama, signalling he was a lower rank monk within the temple[12]. He had a disbelieving, but also rather relieved expression on his face as he approached Cherry.
“Ah… Cherry-dono, is that you?” the man asked in a somewhat quavering voice, an uncertain smile tugging at the sides of his lips, as he hunched over slightly to stay at eye level with the higher ranking monk.
“Yes, it is,”  Cherry answered matter-of-factly, his shortness of the man seeming to make him more confident of Cherry’s assertion of identity. The monk’s face lit up, but he quickly restrained the expression, attempting to act formal.
“It is good that you’ve returned! Given the circumstances…” the monk replied, falling silent as he glanced at the pair of strangers flanking his superior, not sure if he could mention the dirty secrets of his temple quite freely. Cherry himself waived a hand in dismissal, readjusting his staff so that it rested on his shoulder as he tucked his hands into the opposite sleeves.
“I know, but, first could you please tell my sister I’ve arrived? I want to speak to her before I go and see chich- ahem, the Jūji[13],” Cherry instructed, correcting himself with his father’s title as he spoke, speaking in a dignified tone, though not one that was overly forced.
“Yes, of course, I’ll take you to her,” the monk agreed, deftly excusing himself of work while he did, “it’ll be much easier with both you and your sister here! We should be able to work out enough funds soon enough,” the man asserted with a pensive but still pleased tone of voice as he smiled back at his superior and his companions as he led them to the eastern wing of the temple.
“Oh, I’ve already resolved that. I have all the money we could need with me,” Cherry explained, shifting under his robes slightly as he felt the weighty letter rest heavily on his breast. The monk in question turned back to Cherry with an incredulous expression.
“How did you manage that so soon?” he babbled out, unable to imagine the answer.
“Thanks to a generous donation from, Sakai Nanase-Sama,” Cherry answered simply, not even attempting to claim any work to his own merit. “… We should make sure to do something to commemorate her kindness,” he added, giving a sideways glance to the lower ranking monk, who made a series of jerking nods, making a metal note of the order.
“Yes, Oshō-Ue[14],” the man agreed knowing, despite lacking the specifics of the amount, that Sakai had donated a rather considerable sum. They reached the engawa when the monk turned to look at Collier and Yamato with an inquisitive and wary expression. “May I ask why you both are here?”
“Oh, I am here simply to visit your temple,” Collier answered warmly, seeming to disentangle himself from the issue, before putting his hands on Yamato’s shoulders and pressing him forward, “this one however, is here for a position at your temple,” he declared, a wide but somewhat mischievous smile on his face.
“Pardon?” the monk asked, Cherry mostly ignoring the assertion, only further flustering his subordinate. “But, what would we need a Ronin for?” the man babbled out in question, Yamato glaring up at him, about to bark out a correction. He was a Samurai, not a ronin. But, Collier quickly intervened for him.
“I’m sure he can be useful if you ever find yourself in danger, he is quite skilled. Do Buddhist temples not have some equivalent of Knights Templar[15] or suchlike?” Collier insisted, getting a confused look from the monk in return. Seeing that his angle of persuasion was not working, and that he had likely confused his opposite, he changed tracks, “if not, I’m sure he would be of use as a factotum,” he commented, his voice having a unassuming finality that he did not allow the monk time to question, striding forward as Cherry stepped onto the veranda, both men removing their shoes as they did. The monk reluctantly pushed the matter aside, seeing the conversation had briskly moved on, and removed his own geta, Yamato removing his kôgake[16] though keeping his swords and armour on, the monk glancing  at them nervously. They were led past a number of shōji screens until they came to one that was left open, which the monk led them through, a woman dressed as a Miko[17] taking their shoes as they entered. Cherry glanced over to her and gave a quick nod as she bowed her head.
One of his fathers’ attempts to ‘Shinto-ise’  the temple had been to employ women in roles similar to Shinto Miko for women. Though, in truth, this changed very little for the women of Cherry’s family. Mainly due of course to the fact that they had always had a hand in how the temple was run, but simply from the shadows.
They were taken to the left-side wing of the building, the back end of which faced the main building, taken through an open corridor flanked by fusama on either side with wooden lintels overhead. Very shortly they were taken to a sliding door, decorated with painted flowers that covered the fringes of the door, along with general decoration. Cherry stood before the door, flanked on either side by Yamato and Collier, while the monk stood to the side of the door and called out in a level and formal tone, “Nekomata-Ue, your brother is here to meet with you, along with some guests who are accompanying him.” There was silence in response as both Cherry and the monk wore tense expressions as they waited through it, like artillerists waiting for a hang-fire.  
“Very well, send him in,” a voice instructed from behind the door. It was dignified, with clear diction in the words, a voice that always made you want to sit up slightly straighter. The monk returned a quick yes before pulling the sliding door to the side, bowing his head as he did before ushering Cherry and the other two inside, standing by the door as the trio entered. The room was rather large, with tatami matted floors that were comfortable underfoot, the rear of the room lined with shōji screens separating the room from the engawa outside it. The room smelled of incense, a pair of pewter burners either side of the room on small but elegant tables covered with documents and objects important to the temple, either side of them a pair of kicho[18] bearing depictions of the Buddha or kami. At the rear of the room there was a large Buddha statue on a wide pedestal, and sat in front of it, as if its guardian, was Cherry’s sister.
She was sat on her knees before a near-black wooden table, the legs of which made a shape like a trapezoid, or like a cat spreading all its legs. It was covered with stacks of documents, charms and suchlike along with an inkstone case she was using tow fill in the documents with a fine brush. The woman herself was beautiful, more like a goddess herself than a temple assistant. She was tall, with fair skin and black hair that almost shone purple under the sunlight, falling just below her shoulders on her back while the front was cut into a straight fringe bar from two clumps either side of her head that fell to just below her chin. Her eyes were the colour of cast-iron, hard and unscrupulous but still with a subdued warmness hidden in them. Her hands were lithe, but not fragile, the woman seeming to move with an air of calculated strength, a worn but cared for O-Juzo on her left wrist. She wore a white kimono, perfectly fitted over her form, well built with a modest chest, and red hakama. The only thing that someone could call a flaw was a scar that split across the bridge of her nose, ending just underneath the iris of each eye. But, in truth, it only served to magnify her beauty.   
Cherry sat on his knees a metre or so from the table, offering a deep bow to his sister as both Collier and Yamato sat down as well, offering less severe bows of respect, more akin to the monk who had led them there, bowing as he stood by the door, than the brother that kowtowed to her. “Thank you for receiving me, ane-ue[19],”Cherry thanked, his head still bowed to the floor, “I hope you have been well since our last letter,” he added, his voice strained as he fussed over formality.
“As well as could be expected, considering current circumstances,” she replied flatly, looking down at the documents on her desk as she filled them in. Cherry twitched slightly at her comment, slinking further into his bow as he agreed with a weak ‘yes’. She finally placed down her brush as she glanced up at the hunter and the samurai, “and who are you both?” she inquired, a disinterested look on her face.
Collier sat up and smiled warmly at her, “Elisah Collier, but please call me Collier, a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted, offering a quick bow to her as he did, “I am an acquaintance of your brother, I was hoping to see around your temple so I accompanied him here,” he explained, the woman regarding him the same.
“I see, well, Sakuranbou did mention you in his letters,” she responded, Cherry stiffening up both at the use of his proper name but also about his mentions of Collier. They weren’t always the most flattering of comments. “In any case, what about him?” she led, gesturing to Yamato. Collier and Cherry expected the boy to pipe up with a grand introduction but he was silent.
Collier leant down to check on the boy, and saw him with a nervous expression, a red flush across his cheeks as he glanced everywhere around the room besides the woman. Collier smirked to himself with a knowing look in his eyes before straightening himself up and clearing his throat. “This young man here is Yamato Takatoki-San, he is here about a position at your temple. He is a very skilled fighter and survivalist, and can be highly useful in many other ways,” Collier introduced, talking up the boy as he saved him from his social embarrassment. Yamato glanced up at the man with an appreciative expression, and received a warm but cheeky smile in return.
The sister regarded both cooly for a moment before letting out a soft exhale and putting a hand up as she gave an instruction to the hereto unnamed monk, “Saikan-San, you may leave I have important matters to discuss with Sakuranbou, please take our guests with you and have them fed. They must be hungry,” her voice crisp and clear-cut as she spoke. Saikan bowed again before giving a respectful agreement and gesturing for Collier and Yamato to follow him out. Both rose to their feet and left through the door, Saikan lingering in the frame as he slid the door closed, the sound of three steps of footfalls retreating from the room coming muffled through the walls. The pair waited in silence for a moment, Cherry having sheepishly raised his head, looking around the room. “Have they left?” his sister asked, Cherry standing up to check, removing his hat before pressing an ear against the wall.
The space outside the room was silent, the only disturbance being the dull brush of wind that slipped into the building. “Yes, ane-ue,” Cherry answered, glancing back to his sister.
“That’s good,” she replied, beckoning him back over as she stood up, deftly stepping over the table as they approached each other, meeting just ahead of the squat table. She regarded him with a serious expression for a moment, her brother having to look up slightly as he was shorter than his sister. Then, quite suddenly, she scooped him up unto a massive hug, easily lifting him off the ground as she did. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Nekoshou[20]!” Cherry wheezed at the sudden embrace, but couldn’t help a smile from infiltrating his face as he rested his head on her shoulder, relaxing in the embrace.
Nekomata Umemori is the eldest of four siblings, including herself, a few years older than Cherry, the second youngest. Besides her, Cherry has two other siblings, namely a younger sister Takeshou and an older sister who married a local boy, Akisei Makoto, and took his family name Akisei Mutsuchou. But, out of all them, the most responsible and the one whom Cherry was closest to was Umemori. She was a very responsible and intelligent woman, who, while not wasting time on fools was not outwardly cruel to those she disliked. Someone who preferred tact rather than an attack… not that she could not perform both quite skilfully.
After a warm moment, Umemori lowered her brother back to the ground, gently placing him down as she semi-reluctantly released him from her embrace. “… I’m glad you’re well,” she continued, moving to sit behind her table, speaking in a far more relaxed tone of voice. “We appreciate the money you have been sending us, it helps, but you being here will help a good bit more,” she said a warm smile coming onto her face. Cherry’s face split into a Cheshire cat smile from the complement before he forced his expression into a more neutral look.
“About that,” Cherry began, reaching into his robes and pulling out Sakai’s letter, Umemori regarding it with a curious expression, “I’ve already obtained the funds needed to pay off all out debts,” he finished, presenting the letter to Umemori who stared back stunned. She was silent, looking slowly between her brother and his letter before taking it gently from his hands, taking a worn looking letter opener to slash open the letter. She dumped out the contents onto her desk, a pile of bundled notes falling to the table with a sound like the rushing of leaves, the room fell into silence, to the point that one could hear the burning of incense.
“…How did you get all this?” Umemori asked, her voice flat and severe, but not accusatory as she looked up at her brother with a level gaze.
“A bit of charity,” he replied, sheepishly placing a hand to the back of his neck as he answered, the truth sounding ridiculous despite itself.
“From Collier-San?” she asked, still looking at her brother as she rested her hands in her lap, sitting bolt straight as she continued her interrogation.
“What? No! no, though I suppose he helped,” he answered, his vagueness not resolving the matter for his sister as he sat under he piercing gaze, aware she wouldn’t let it go until she was given a proper answer. “He brought me along to an event where I found a few people willing to make donations,” he begrudgingly explained, glancing away out of embarrassment. “A woman who was attending, Sakai Nanase, deciding to donate as she wanted to do a good deed,” he finished, still with a somewhat embarrassed look on his face.
His sister regarded him with a clearly disbelieving expression, turning up her nose at him as she leaded an elbow on the table, her chin in her hand, “Oh really now?” she drawled out, baring her teeth in a displeased grimace.
“I know it sounds ridiculous but it’s the truth!” Cherry insisted, his voice going up a pitch as he blushed from embarrassment. His sister relaxed her expression, still reclining her head on her arm as she looked at her brother, loosening up slightly but still managing a dignified air.
“Then why were you so embarrassed to tell me, I thought you’d become a bandit with that Yamato-Kun,” she inquired, serious in her question, but loving concern poking through the austere veneer. Cherry stayed silent for a while, staring at his knuckles, clenched over knees of his purple hakama. Umemori watched, waiting for an answer, but didn’t receive one. She moved to stand and go over to Cherry, but was interrupted when he, quietly, finally gave his answer.
“Because I was supposed to do it by myself,” he began speaking in a soft, almost ashamed voice, not daring to look up at his sister, staring at his hands clenched on his knees as he bowed his shoulders and hung his head. “I was supposed to find a way to help you all and to help the temple, and do it on my own… and instead, it ended up borrowing strength from a tiger… like I always do,” he finished in a heartbroken voice, quavering as it entered the still air, slowly cradling his face in his hands, “I should be able to help people myself.”    
 Umemori then swiftly pulled him into a deep, unexpected embrace, entangling herself in her sobbing brothers arms as he stared ahead with a bewildered expression. “I know you,” she began with a firm but caring voice, “I know that the first thing that you would do when I told you would be to work too hard. To try everything you could think off to help, no matter how hard or gruelling or how much you had to debase yourself to help us till you pushed yourself too far,” she continued, pulling her brother into a deeper embrace as she did, “you have nothing to apologize for, I know how hard you worked, and how far you did and would go to help us and anyone. And I am so sorry that I had to make you go through that just to tidy up the messes of this family and this place,” she finished, tears falling from her face, landed hotly on Cherry’s shoulder as the monk in question began to shed tears as well, slowly returning the hug, embracing with the love one holds for those who raised you, and feeling a flood of relief and serenity as he let himself sink into the hug.
He lingered in the warmth of the affection for a while, savouring it before slowly disentangling himself from it as Umemori did the same. Cherry blinked away his transient tears, attempting to composing himself as he sniffed slightly. He looked at his sister still with some embarrassment, though much less than a moment ago, and attempted to work up the nerve to ask a question he only partially wanted to know the answer to.
“So, the debt was it really…?” he began in a half-sure tone, stumbling somewhat when it came to bringing up his father.
“Yes, it was our great fool of a father,” Umemori answered plainly, sighing as she seemed to hold back a more severe insult than the one she had used. Cherry joined her in her sigh, his shoulders slumping as a disappointed, but not surprised expression fell onto his face. “He’s embarked on another project of his, though, for the amount he has likely funnelled into his own interests, he likely could have started three,” she added, hanging her head in a hand as she shook it disapprovingly. Cherry grimaced to himself, not at all surprised, but that did him no good.
                “I’m going to meet with chichi-Ue after this. We need to have a discussion,” he declared, getting a slightly surprised look from his sister.
“You haven’t seen him yet?” she asked, somewhat bewildered.
“No, I wanted to see you first,” Cherry replied, his sister allowing a small smile to break her stern façade for a moment. She nodded and rose to her feet.
“I’ll get him to meet you in the hondo[21], he’d likely summon you soon enough anyway… But it’s better to be the one to call him up as you know,” she stated, Cherry giving an agreeing nod as he raised himself to his feet, using his staff as a prop.
“Thank you,” he replied, his voice sincere as she gave a nod in return.
“I’ll find somewhere that Yamato-Kun can work as well, I’m sure he can be useful, but, what about Collier? Do you want me to send him away?” she asked, beginning to sort the money before going to hide it away in various parts of the temple.
“No, have him sit in the meeting with me and chichi-Ue,” Cherry answered after a moment, Umemori glancing up at him with a mildly surprised expression, “if someone else is there, he’ll act more carefully. He can get away with it with everyone else,” Cherry concluded, sighing slightly as his mentioned his fathers behaviour. Umemori smiled at her brother, pride evident in her features before she quickly covered the money and called out for once of the miko. One arrived after a moment, a shorter woman with a plump face from lingering puppy fat, evidently new at her job. Umemori sent her off to collect Collier from the jiki-dō[22] while she put away the money, sending Cherry to the hondo to wait while she summoned their father. Cherry once again thanked his sister before leaving the room and finding a way to the veranda outside. As he stood on the veranda he felt the chill air, the sun of the early day now pockmarked by cloud cover that suggested an evening rain, though the sky still seemed undecided. As he watched the sky for a moment he glanced at the central hondo again. The building was the grandest of the temple, each floor stepped back as if to lean on the mountain behind it, each layer, bar the top, featured hogyo[23] style roofs, the kawara tiles glistening with a beautiful lustre, small veranda’s sat on the second and third floors that overlooked high into the forest below. At the highest floor, the hogyo roof ended in a point on which a high metal point was hung, the sōrin[24], made of interwoven layers that glittered under the sunlight.
He lowered his eyes, as if he were bowing to the temple itself before again mustering his courage and striding forward. He strode to the kairō[25] and walked through, the open corridor cool with the slow rush of wind that flitted through the carved banister at its edges, the same deep red as the rest of the temple. As he came close to the main building, the first floor being reserved as a hattō[26], he noticed a newer addition, the outside of the engawa was walled with mullioned garasu-do[27] pannels. He supposed this was one of his fathers recent expenditures. He clicked his tongue at them slightly but quickly moved on. He slid open a side door that led into the hattō, the room half lit as a pair of monks tied up the hall, likely having been conscripted into the service after the previous lecture had ended. One of them, seemingly having taken a moment to rest on his broom, turned to see who had entered and blanched when he saw Cherry, immediately becoming flustered and resuming sweeping at a radical pace. Cherry watched him with a unamused expression, glancing an eye around the room. The room was a grand, vaulted hall with tatami mat flooring, long hexagon shaped lanterns hung from the rafters only a few illuminated by the candles inside. The walls were covered by painted fusama, covered with beautiful patterns and stories. Above them on the lower half of the hall, the wood still an aged brown before the area around the ceiling transitioned to a red that matched the outside. Thankfully the large black and silver mural on the ceiling depicting numbers of dragons, yokai. Finally, at the rear of the hall was where the lectures themselves were delivered. The walls behind were covered by cobalt blue noren curtains hanging from the lintel behind, bearing white chrysanthemums on their centre, a raised platform ahead of them being where the scripture was read, a podium near its front and a statue of Buddha sat at the foot of its rear, flanked either side by the noren.
Cherry turned away, the two workers still busy cleaning, though the one who had been more diligent still continued at their usual pace while his partner rushed about while he could be seen. He moved to the rear of the room, at the side near one of the hanging curtains and pushed open the to-fusama[28]set into it and stepped through. It brought him into a small lobby a few steps away from a set of worn black stairs surrounded by panelled wood while he faced a door than would take him to a hollow space in the temple used as a store room for less important documents and tools. The second floor was split between a few roles, namely a few shoin[29] that doubled as regular offices for higher ranking priests in the temples, though Cherry and his siblings also used the building Umemori did as well, as well as a hokke-dō[30] though that had become somewhat disused, the temple having taken in some non Tendai followers in the last few centuries as faith shifted, though Cherry had always tried to attend with his grandfather. Cherry continued up past this floor to the third, the entirety of it left as the honbō[31] while the fourth floor was left a rooms for his family, namely Cherry and his siblings as well as being half a kyōzō[32], the remainder of the store occupying the highest floor of the tower.
When he reached the third floor he breathed in its familiar smell, of ink and incense mixed with kizami tobacco and the perfume of geishas, a microcosm of the floors’ resident. The floor was divided into a number of rooms, his fathers’ chambers furthest from the stairs while not being at the front of the floor either. The place was clean, spotless where eyes would pry, the posts and lintels that made the corridor that Cherry walked through lacquered and covered in intricate carvings of the Buddha as simple but well done patterns of flowers and trees lined the base of fusama panels.
Cherry traced a path he had long memorized through the corridors until he came up to a pair of grand doors, red in colour with brass lining the base and top of the doorframe. He stood before the door a moment, steeling himself as he took a breath, straightening his shoulders and arranging his hair. He busied himself with his delaying for a moment before he stopped and stared ahead, slowly lowering his head a snarl twisting his lips as he got angry at his own cowardice. He snorted, gripping his staff firmly in his hand as he formed a fist with the other and rapped on the door, his knuckles sending a low solid sound out from both sides of the door. He waited at attention for a moment, hearing a light rustling of cloth come from inside before the door was pulled open, the light of the room falling at Cherry’s feet.
The room was a large open space, with tatami mat floors either side of which were a set of sixteen, eight on each side, high ranking monks sat on maroon coloured pillows before small indigo coloured tables. The all wore Hō[33] robes over purple hakama kanmuri[34] on their heads, monks of second rank closest to the door in red Hō while those of the first rank were sat closer to the jūjishoku wearing black. A pair of lower ranking priests stood by the door, bowing their head to Cherry as he entered, both wore samune[35], the working dress used to indicate they were separate players in the meeting. As Cherry stepped into the room he felt the watchful gaze of the assembled monks be levied at him. They were a varied assemblage of people, some thin some plump or fat, many with shaved heads. They looked at him with varied expressions, mostly stern and stoic, but generally pleased at the young monks return in the temple’s time of need. Collier himself was sat close to the door, at the end of the line of lower-ranking priests sat cross-legged on a white pillow. He nodded to Cherry as they saw each other but kept quiet after that.
Cherry strode forward into the room, staring straight ahead out of the opposite end of the hall lined with shōji screens. The room was built from unpainted sugi[36] wood, blackish in colour, covered with various decorations from hanging noren to various brass accoutrements. Cherry came to the centre of it, a purple-red pillow placed there which Cherry sat on, his legs tucked underneath him as he sat up straight, one of the monks who had opened the door coming over to take Cherry’s staff which he allowed. After a moment of waiting, a few impatient whispers began to bubble up from the assembled monks, until a quartet of miko walked through the rear entrance at the opposite end of the room, one of them being Umemori. They all wore formal attire, as if preparing for a service, being led by Umemori the room falling into organized silence as they saw her. She stood on one side of a raised platform which lay at the other end of the room, mostly panelled in wood bar from a square of two tatami mats where the head monk was intended to be sat. She spun on her heel to face those assembled as another woman stood on the other side of the square as well, the two remaining standing further back behind the square.
“A thousand apologies for the delay,” she declared in a clear but humble tone, bowing her head to the assembled monks, “we now present the Jūjishoku of Monjusan temple, Nekomata Touzen,” she heralded, both her and her opposite falling back just ahead of the other two miko. The man himself then walked in from a side door, in a wide almost arrogant gait, but still. He got to his seat and spun on his heel before sitting down quickly, not standing on ceremony. He was a tall man, more comparable to Collier than to his son, with a large squarish face half covered in a white-black beard that left the corners of his mouth clear, the moustache and beard almost layered onto the other, sticking out from the man���s face in a downward sloping pyramid, almost imitating the hogyo roof of the temple, though the centre was somewhat stained by the taint of tobacco. The rest of his hair stuck out in a myriad of small arches at the side of his head covering his ears. He didn’t wear a kanmuri, as if stating he was above his own reforms. He wore Hō robes and purple hakama, not circumventing that new rule, but also wore a kesa like a stole over neck. His face was hard and stern with a heavy brow and small eyebrows, a number of moles on his brow and above his right eye.
He seemed to inspect the crowd before him with a level expression, his gaze lingering slightly on the foreigner in his court. He let out a slight exhale before beginning, “welcome back, my son,” Touzen delivered in a sombre, though seemingly joyful, voice.
“Thank you, Jūjishoku,” Cherry replied in a respectful tone, bowing to his father as he held down his transient agitation for the moment.
“Of course, I am glad you have decided to end your asceitic journey and help here at the temple, you have a duty to do after all,” Touzen declared utterly unbothered by the hypocrisy of his statement as Cherry flinched from the mention of his own duty. “But, that can be left for another time…” the man continued, sweeping the conversation along as he usually did, “you called me here as you had something to discuss. Speak your mind,” he declared flippantly, with the air of someone who was unlikely to care about what would next be said while the other monks glanced at Cherry to see what he would say, many hoping he would speak their minds for them.
“… It was about the matter of your recent, projects,” Cherry began, Touzen’s amicable expression falling from his face in a moment as he watched his son with a scrutinising gaze, sitting straight as he did. “Your recent expenditures have been taken their toll on the temple’s finances while doing little for our situation with donations and attendance,” Cherry continued, feeling the gaze of all those gathered, most pressingly the now disdainful leer of his father. “To recuperate this, I would insist you put a hold to this, along with any other activities,” he finished, a note of disdain of his own breaking through his restrained tone, the possibly imagined scent of perfume from geisha not helping.
“A ‘tightening of the belt’, then?” Touzen inquired, cocking his head as he rested it in his hand, Cherry flinching at his darkened tone. “As far as I understand it, you yourself have acquired enough to resolve our debts,” the abbot declared, Cherry snapping his head up to look at him then to Umemori, incredulous as to why she broke her promise and told him, but she was just as incredulous along with a number of other monks now watching Cherry. “Of course I am left to wonder how you acquired so much money so quickly,” Touzen continued Cherry feeling a flush of dread chill his body, though he couldn’t exactly place why, “but I doubt it was through any unjust means. You always lacked nerve for anything such as that.”
Cherry winced at what he knew to be an insult, “No, I…” he began before Touzen struck down his attempt to speak with his own accusation.
“Though why you did not inform me of the donations yourself is worrisome. You did not intend to keep it for yourself did you?” his voice cruel as he spoke, knowing that his son intended to hide it from him not the temple, but, not shying from using the situation.
Cherry felt the gaze of the other monks, now tinged by a look of disrespect and distaste, “…No, of course not,” Cherry finally replied in a defeated tone, hiding his head in his bow.
“O-tōsan[37] I think that is enou…” Umemori began, attempting to step in for her brother, but was again cut off.
“Be quiet Umemori, your brother and I are having a chat,” he replied flatly not bother to turn to her has he waived a dismissive hand in her direction. She grimaced at the instruction, looking at her brother with a concerned expression but remaining where she was only just holding herself back from striking her father. Touzen looked down at Cherry, the white elephant of a man having gained the reigns of the meeting from his son. “In any case, though I fail to understand what ‘other activities’ you mean, it is no less my duty to lead this temple and improve the lives of our faithful. We must give, even if we only have a little,” the man declared in a magnanimous display as a coral O-juzo rattled on his wrist, thou successfully conning a number of the monks with his pretence. “I have done all I could to improve this temple and to protect our believers and all those under our care,” he continued in disregard to the speckled makeup on his collar, a mark of his frequent visits to the pleasure district, “so it is of course inevitable that our finances are wounded as such…” Cherry grimaced hard, staring at the ground while he sat in his bow, his rancour shouting in his heart attempting to raise a standard and fight back against his fathers words… But he couldn’t. He couldn’t summon the courage to talk back and refute his false claims, the foundations of himself crumbling before his fathers words. Like always.
Touzen saw he had snuffed out his opposition and let a cruel, arrogant smile fall on his face, disguised as benevolent mercy to his watchers. “Well, that is likely enough of that matter,” the father relented, knowing he had already crushed his son’s spirit for the while, “we should instead congratulate you on your return! Its good that you decided to stop with your charade of a journey, Buddha knows what kind of activities you could have gotten into that might disgrace this temple!” Touzen finished, looking scornfully down his nose at his disobedient son, attempting to crush what little remained of his reputation. Umemori glared with fury at her father, her gaze white hot with hatred, while Cherry hid his face, tears beading in his eyes from fury and sadness, still unable to make a single noise in protest or contradiction.
Just before Cherry himself broke into tears or Umemori went to punch her father, a different voice interputed.
“I believe that is rather too cruel, Jūjishoku,” Touzen and the other monks turned to the new voice while Cherry froze, already knowing who had spoken. Collier sat, one hand raised in protest, calling attention to himself as he looked at Touzen with a sombre, almost upset countenance. He received strange, sometimes insulted looks from the assembled monks for his interruption, the most notable being Touzen’s look of baffled disdain.
“And who are you to interrupt?” Touzen demanded, fully acknowledging the presence of the foreign element in his court. Umemori glanced at Collier nervously, though thankful someone had spoken up for her brother.
“I travelled here with your son, and wished to see his home,” Collier replied eloquently, meeting the other man’s gaze firmly, “I can assert quite strongly that your son has done nothing of any sort that could damage the reputation of this, his, temple nay it could only advance it.” Collier’s assertion ruffled the court, most distinctly Touzen himself. His frown bared teeth for a moment before settling back to a more serene look of arrogant displeasure.
“You still yet fail to answer my question of your identity, and why my son brought you here. He is a rather, prickly, person,” the man responded, sweeping aside the words Collier had put to Cherry’s defence.
“Elisah Paul Collier, but please call me Collier,” he introduced, giving a small and wordlessly reluctant bow to the Jūji as he did, “as to why he brought me here, I simply expressed an interest,” Collier answered.
“And it was not in return for a decent donation, Collier-San?” Touzen asked regarding Collier sceptically, “I had heard that some form of donation in return for a favour was involved in his acquisition of funds, rather than of any substantial effort on my son’s own part,” Touzen replied, his scathing accusation cutting deeply into his son, gritting his teeth in anger, clenching his fists to smother his feelings.
“Those who expend no effort don’t tend to beg on the streets till half-dead for their families own benefit,” Collier scathingly shot back, a slight rumble of powerful anger and second hand indignation rattling in his voice and shaking the room. The Englishman let his amicable visage fall from his face, looking at Touzen with a disgusted expression, his face almost in a sneer. The other monk’s looked between themselves, pushed into internal reflection with a rejection of Touzen’s statements. The Jūji themselves looked back at Collier, his molten fury hidden from his face at the foreigners questioning of his byzantine authority. In response, he retreated behind the palisades of his previous arguments.
“Be that as it may,” he deviated, regaining the room’s attention with his voice as he attempted to wrestle back the reigns of the conversation as well, “that does not erase the fact that it is our duty to provide to our followers,” continued, reasserting his previous position.
“But it is your faith to not be prodigal, or ostentatious[38],” Collier lectured, causing Touzen to falter slightly.
“…And what do you know of my faith?” Touzen asked, suffocating his anger as he put on a genial show.
“I studied it while I was travelling in India, though it is not my faith,” Collier answered flatly, not breaking eye contact with the man.
“If it is not you faith then I don’t see why you feel you should intrude.”
“I am simply practicing a tenant of all faiths, to offer help to those that need it,” Collier replied, getting agreeing nods from the other assembled monks, but those were quickly shuttered by a fiery glare from Touzen, “’if we fail to look after others when they need help, who will look after us?’[39] to quote.”
Touzen glared at the man, aware of the eyes on him as the two men engaged in a verbal stand-off. “Then why do you criticise me for attempting to help those around me? Calling for me to halt my charity?”
“Cherry’s point wasn’t to criticize your charity, but your distraction with these projects to possibly improve attendance rather than to simply be content and look after those already here,” Collier replied, eloquently voicing the principal of Cherry’s argument, the monk in question looking to Collier with a look of embarrassed appreciation. “Along with a request to you to limit your own activities,” Collier commented looking disdainfully at the Jūjishoku. Touzen glared at the man with fury, a snarl forming on his lips as the other monks whispered in hushed voices, shifting to Cherry’s side.
“By any argument, I believe it would be best to listen to your son on this matter,”
“And who are you to question me?!!” Touzen boomed in a thunderous voice, grabbing a wooden rod rod held in a stand as he left to his feet, brandishing it one-handed like a cane, his face twisted into an abusive snarl, veins popping from his forehead. Collier leapt up as well, suddenly on his feet from a silent movement, both men staring at each other equal in height as Touzen stood on his platform, the monk glaring at Collier with tunnel-vision outrage, discarding all of his peaceable façade. Both men stared down at the other, Collier with calculating but cold power while Tozen bared his fangs in white hot fury. Touzen was the first to take a step forward, Collier about to match it when Umemori put an arm out to stop her father.
“O-tōsan, that’s enough,” she said firmly, not looking him in the eye.
“I told you to stay quiet!” Touzen snapped, ignoring her direction.
“I said, that’s enough,” Umemori repeated in a chilling voice, looking coldly at her father, making her father flinch slightly, then checking around as he realized what he had done, seeing the assembled gūji[40] and gon-gūji[41] look at him with wary and unsettled glances, many of the younger monks never having seen one of his outbursts before, or at very least, not one that others could vouch had happened. Touzen nervously glanced around, aware that his moral authority had crumbled under him, fretted for his practical authority. He ran it over in his head for a moment, the inertia of his anger tainting him for a moment longer before it disappeared from his pre-tarnished disposition.
He huffed slightly, gesturing for a miko to come forward, “fine,” he grumbled his voice levelling out into an irritated but more passive tone as he shoved the cane in the woman’s hand and stepped back from his daughters outstretched arm, unabashed by her look of disapproval. “I shall take your advice on this, Sakuranbou,” addressing his son by name for the first time, the boy in question looking up at him with a stiff expression having raised his head as his father turned, moving away from his seat, “I’ll halt my projects and place it under your suzerainty for the while,” he called back in a disinterested voice, “but we’ll discuss the intricates another day, I am feeling tired,” his voice dismissive as he declared his retreat, walking to the door he had entered through.
“Thank you, Jūjishoku,” Cherry replied, offering a far shallower bow than before, but still bowing nonetheless. Touzen huffed silently to himself as he opened the door, he looked back a final time, his gaze lingering on Collier longer than the rest.
“You all may go… I apologize for my rudeness Collier-San,” he called back, a blithe instruction and a half-hearted apology being his final remarks before disappearing from sight of the entire assembly. The room was silent for a moment before being broken by the quiet noises of the hall emptying of people, rising form their seats wordlessly before departing though a few came over to Cherry to deliver whispered congratulations or apologies. Cherry offered tributary replies to them, still somewhat shaken by the affair while Umemori took a glance to her father’s exit before rushing over to her brother as the last of the temple’s leaders fled, leaving only the monk’s left to hold the door, both of who fled as they read the situation.
Umemori embraced her brother, feeling him quiver in her embrace from nerves, “well done, I’m sorry you had to do that alone,” she apologized pulling him into a deep hug, feeling the bitter anger at her own inaction.
“No, thank you for being here and for trying,” Cherry thanked, tightening his own grip in the hug, needing the embrace just as much as Umemori. “… And thank you Collier,” Cherry added after a while, peaking his face out of the embrace to look at the man. Collier glanced up, adjusting the wakizashi in his jacket with one hand, one that Cherry was quite unaware of. He wanted to be surprised or snap at him, but he was somewhat relived that he hadn’t brought something worse. Granted not that the monk could complain, his tantō tucked into his kesa.
“Think nothing of it, I was happy to,” he replied adjusting his jacket and steeping closer to the siblings, only now loosening their embrace. “I only hope I didn’t overstep the mark,” he added with a somewhat sheepish chuckle, glancing in the direction Touzen had fled. “It would do no good if I made things worse,” he commented as he stroked his beard a glint of evening sunlight flickering on his face as a bird swept by the shoji at the rear of the room.
“Don’t worry, Cherry and myself will sort things over, we should be able to manage O-tōsan together,” Umemori stated, smiling at Collier warmly, which he reciprocated, warmed by her attempt to put his doubt to rest.
“Then I shall entrust you to your business,” he replied warmly, taking a verbal step back as to allow the pair forward on their own.
“Thank you, Collier,” Cherry said kindly, his voice sincere. Collier smiled back in return and placed a hand behind his back before offering a shallow bow.         
[1] Literally meaning ‘sliding doors’, they are somewhat similar to Shōji, but, unlike them, fusama are made using opaque paper so as to not allow any light to shine through them.
[2] Sanzu-no-Kawa, literally ‘the river of three-crossings’ or simple the Sanzu river, is a mythological river in Japanese style Buddhism similar to the Greek concept of the river Styx or the Chinese concept of the Yellow Springs. 
[3] The Japanese word for a police officer, which can be used with the honorific ‘San’ where the name of said policeman is unknown.
[4] Jolcham Oak.
[5] A type of roof structure in Japan, featuring a hip-and-gable.
[6] A type of roof structure in Japan, featuring a simple gable
[7] Japanese veranda, literally meaning ‘edge side’ are non-tatami matted floors that resemble porches. They are usually made of wood or bamboo.  
[8] Traditional roof tiles in Japan.
[9] A type of two-storied gate used at entrances to Buddhist temples and monasteries, though now also with Shinto shrines, in Japan, the second story is inaccessible.
[10] The temizuya is a structure containing purified water at the entrance to the innermost sanctums of a shrine, it is here that entrants and devotees conduct a purifying ritual before entering further into the shrine. You are supposed to wash both hands and your mouth, and do so with only one use of the dipper, washing the handle with its own water as you finish.
[11] Stone statues depicting shishi [‘Lion-Dogs’] stand at the entrance of Buddhist and Shinto shrine entrances, or at the houses of the wealthy or important buildings. These fierce guardians are intended to protect the shrine/temple from evil.
[12] In Shinto temples, one way in which the rank of priests are shown is that those of lower ranks[3rd and 4th rank] wear hakama[a kind of loose fitting trouser] of a light blue colour, while those of higher rank wear purple, like those Cherry wears. Though this is a Shinto practice, it has been adopted at Cherry’s temple as another measure to fit more with Shinto practices.
[13] A Japanese term for the abbot of a large Buddhist temple/monastery. Other variations include jūjishoku or jūshoku and occasionally jishu.
[14] A Japanese term that can be used either as a title or an honorific referring to a Buddhist priest of high rank
[15] A Roman Catholic military order whose alliance lay with the pope and his office. Also known as ‘Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon’, ‘The Order of Solomon’s Temple’ or simply ‘The Templars’.
[16] A type of armoured shoe worn by Samurai, distinct for having a split between the large toe and the other four. 
[17] Shrine Maidens at Japanese Shinto shrines, usually wearing red hakama trousers and a white kimono. They are not ordained priestesses, but local unmarried women intended to aid things at the shrine. This does not mean however, that women priestesses did not occur.
[18] A T-shaped stand with curtains tied to it’s arms. Used as decoration in Japan, originating from the Hein period, but becoming obsolete by the Edo period.
[19] A highly respectful way of addressing one’s older sister.
[20] ‘Little Cat’, here it is intended as a nickname Cherry’s sister uses only for him. He finds it slightly embarrassing, but is warmed by the affection. He would prefer she called him Cherry, or Sakuranbo if nothing else.
[21] The ‘main building’ of the Buddhist temple, also called a Butuden [Buddha Palace].
[22] A refectory in a Buddhist temple where monks would take their meals together.
[23] A type of roof structure in Japan, square and pyramidal in shape.
[24] A spire reaching up from the centre of the roof, it is constructed in tiers.
[25] A long roof covered passage connecting two buildings in a temple.
[26] Literally the ‘Dharma hall’, it is where the head priest gives lectures on Buddhist scriptures [the hō].
[27] Literally meaning ‘Glass door’, they can be mullioned or single pane and are often used on engawa veranda’s as panels or as sliding doors placed in grooves.
[28] Solid wooden sliding doors used in Japanese architecture. Made from sugi[Japanese redwood].
[29] Originally a study and place for lectures on the sūtra within a temple, it cam to simply mean a study.
[30] Literally meaning “Lotus Sūtra hall”, a hall whose structure allows for meditation while walking around a statue. Typical to Tendai Buddhism.
[31] Residence of the head priest or abbot of a temple.
[32] Literally meaning “scriptures deposit”, it is a place which stores sūtras and books about the temple’s history.
[33] A belted robe used in formal occasions by Shinto priests modelled after robes previously worn by ancient nobility, used in Cherry’s temple as part of his fathers attempts to “Shinto-ise” the temple.
[34] A type of headdress similar to what was worn by a previous office of nobility. They are black and feature a cap with a larger portion that extends from the back.
[35] A simple pair of trousers and top, made from linen or cotton, originally used by zen Buddhist monks as work clothes.
[36] Japanese redwood/Japanese cypress. When referenced as such it usually refers to yakisugi[lit. ‘to heat cypress with fire’] a technique of wood preservation where the surface of the wood is charred without burning the whole piece the wood becomes more water-proof. Sometimes referred to as burnt timber cladding.
[37] An honorific used to address one’s father. Much less formal than chichi-Ue.
[38] Two of Buddhism’s 108 Earthly Desires.
[39] A quote from Buddha.
[40] The term for a first rank of Shinto priest. Used here due to Touzen’s reforms at the temple. Their official positions are different.
[41] The term for a second rank Shinto priest, subservient to the first. The reason for it’s use here is as above.
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