Hyakkimaru's Birth
Book 1 of the Dororo Novel Series
Toriumi Jinzō
Part 2 - Enlightenment
Snow thawed and melted on Kurama's summit at the beginning of spring. Pale white blossoms budded and bloomed on the peach trees in the forest, filling the air with their sweet scent.
Oniwakamaru would be nine years old soon. His body grew by slow degrees. His artificial eyes, nose and ears used to be too large for his face, but now, both the nose and ears fit him perfectly. His adult face was beginning to take shape. Jukai found its character fierce and brave.
I wonder if his father really was a warrior. Jukai often thought this when he looked at Oniwakamaru these days. He'd guessed that Oniwakamaru had been sent downstream from one of the samurai estates on the mountain. The boy's courage, constitution and ingenuity suggested that he descended from a warrior clan of some distinction. His bravery had shown itself plainly when he and Sakuzō had encountered the militant monks at Kurama Temple. Jukai felt that bold and reckless energy in him almost all the time now.
Oniwakamaru also started asking questions that were difficult to answer. Sakuzō was rendered speechless by many of their verbal exchanges. Oniwakamaru still had some trouble speaking, but his meaning and intent were always clear and precise. Sakuzō usually laughed and joked to deflect his more difficult questions; if that didn't work, he changed the topic of conversation entirely. But that strategy wouldn't work forever.
Jukai was genuinely worried about Oniwakamaru's future. The Imperial Court and rival samurai clans near the capital were constantly feuding. They might soon be openly at war.
I don't care who Oniwakamaru's birth parents are. They can't have him back. He is my child, and I'll raise him as I see fit.
***
One day not long after that, Jukai sat down next to Oniwakamaru and asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Oniwakamaru answered without a scrap of hesitation: "I want to be a great doctor, just like you."
Jukai gaped in shock. He'd expected Oniwakamaru to say something along the lines of, "I want to be a great warrior, like Yoshitsune."
"But..." Oniwakamaru trailed off. There was something like sadness in his eyes. Jukai knew that they were artificial and couldn't truly display his emotions, but he looked at Oniwakamaru's face and saw genuine sorrow there.
I should never have asked him this question, he thought. A boy without eyes or limbs can't be a warrior or a doctor. Forgive me, Oniwakamaru. His heart swelled with emotion, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.
"All I really want is to stay with you and uncle Sakuzō, dad," Oniwakamaru said brightly. "As long as I can do that, I'll be fine."
"Oniwakamaru..." Jukai held his face tenderly in both hands. He looked him straight in the eyes and said, "We'll always be with you. Always."
Oniwakamaru nodded. Jukai thought that his eyes shone with a different emotion now: happiness.
That was when Jukai started to consider the idea that Oniwakamaru's eyes might be more functional than they appeared. Maybe it was more accurate to say that he wanted them to be more functional than they looked.
A few nights later, Jukai finished his dinner, then went to find Sakuzō, who was working outside. "I want Oniwakamaru to be able to see," Jukai said.
"Eh?" Sakuzō had no idea what Jukai meant at all.
"I want his eyes to be functional. I want him to see."
Sakuzō scratched his head. "You're joking, right? Artificial eyes can't actually see." Who would ever believe that glass eyes could be made to see like real ones?
"His hearing returned even though he lacks real ears. He learned to speak with patience and effort. I have to believe that there's a way to help him see. He was protected by the god of Iwakura Shrine for reasons that we still don't understand. Tamon-ten protects this mountain; you've prayed to him every day for years, Sakuzō."
Jukai wasn't the sort of man to rely on gods, but he was also not an atheist. "There are things in this world that humans can't explain," Jukai said. "What we can explain represents only a small piece of what we claim to know. Some mystery is at work here. Oniwakamaru shouldn't be able to hear without ears, but he can."
"I don't understand such complicated things," Sakuzō said. "Are you saying that Oniwakamaru has some kind of capability or power that we can't explain?"
"Yes. I think he can produce tears; to me, that's a sign that his eyes should work...maybe...."
"If you're right, who or what gave him this capability? Do you know?"
"I think...we might have done it."
"Not me," Sakuzō said. "I don't have any sort of special power or anything."
"We're going to try something," Jukai said. "I need you to follow my instructions exactly."
Sakuzō nodded.
"Go light a candle and bring it back here."
Sakuzō lit a candle inside the house, then brought it outside with faltering steps. He carried the candle to the barn where he'd left Jukai and placed it on a rough wooden table.
"Won't the wind blow it out?" Sakuzō asked.
"I've closed all the windows and doors," Jukai said. "Now, let's get to work."
Jukai lit more candles. He placed one in each corner of the barn. The flames of the candles didn't flicker in the slightest: they burned bright and clear. After all the candles were placed, Jukai stood in front of the candle that Sakuzō had lit, then pressed his hands together and closed his eyes, assuming an attitude of prayer.
Sakuzō fretted in a corner, unsure of what was happening or what to expect. It was completely silent for what felt like a long time.
Suddenly, all the candles in the barn flickered and went out. Thin trails of smoke swirled around the barn and rose to the ceiling. Sakuzō gasped in surprise. He hadn't felt any wind.
Jukai came out of his posture of prayer and stood up.
Sakuzō gaped at him in shock. "Did you learn magic like that in China?" he asked.
"That wasn't magic," Jukai said with a little smile. "All it takes is a bit of mental effort. You can avoid being struck by lightning if you just run fast enough."
"You can run away from lightning?"
Jukai remembered the day he'd found Oniwakamaru at the river. He shrugged. "It's like I said before. There are things that humans can't explain. You're certainly capable of more than you think you are. The will itself grants a person power, in a way. A strong will and a purpose to direct it toward are the foundations for gaining almost anything: strength, power, freedom..."
Jukai had learned secret arts from his master, Yōda, that allowed him to repel the lightning that had tried to strike him and Oniwakamaru. These arts were very effective against demons, monsters, and evil spirits. Collectively, they were known as Hamara Genyōhiken: spirit and monster exorcism.
Jukai explained the basic concepts of these arts to a very bewildered Sakuzō for the first time. Then he went into the estate's main storage area and made sure all the shutters were firmly closed. He asked Sakuzō to bring Oniwakamaru to him.
The storage room was shrouded in gloom. Jukai crossed it, then opened a large, empty wooden box. He spread out a clean cloth on the bottom and waited.
When Sakuzō returned with Oniwakamaru, Jukai took the boy and stood him up inside the large box.
Oniwakamaru looked puzzled. "Where am I? What are you doing?" he asked.
This was the first time Oniwakamaru had been inside the storage room. It smelled different from the house or the clean mountain air outside, though it was hard to say how he could tell that, seeing as his nose wasn't functional. The storage room was still dark—as dark as the world that Oniwakamaru had lived in since he was born.
"Find the light, Oniwakamaru," Jukai said. "If you can find the light, you'll be able to see."
"See?" Oniwakamaru asked. "Will I see your face and uncle Sakuzō's?"
"Yes," Jukai said. "Just find the light, and you'll see us."
"Light? What is that? What should I be searching for?"
"Look within yourself," Jukai said. "Darkness is all around you, but within you, there should be a small spark of light. Light is the opposite of darkness. That's what you're searching for."
On Jukai's signal, Sakuzō brought in a newly lit candle. He passed it to Jukai. Jukai held the candle close to Oniwakamaru's face.
"Can you see light?" Jukai asked.
"I don't know," Oniwakamaru said.
Jukai moved the candle to his left side. "What about now? Can you see anything?"
"There's no change," he said. "I can't see anything."
"Focus," Jukai said. "There should be something different in the darkness. Try to find that, and only that."
"I still can't see anything."
"You're my son," Jukai said, "and I know you can do it. Keep trying."
"I will."
Oniwakamaru didn't see anything at all that first night. Jukai ordered Sakuzō to train with Oniwakamaru in the same way every day after that. Sakuzō held a candle and moved it slowly from side to side, encouraging Oniwakamaru to find the light. Jukai tried enhancing Oniwakamaru's motor and sensory nerve response using acupuncture, placing needles directly above his eyes, in the middle of his forehead, and behind his ears.
Sakuzō gave Oniwakamaru a special medicine made from nandina, a type of bamboo, which he drank himself when he suffered from eyestrain. Jukai didn't think that this medicine would help much, but he permitted Sakuzō to give it to Oniwakamaru all the same. Sakuzō also became obsessed with feeding Oniwakamaru eyes or things that looked like eyes: fish eyes, mostly, but almost everything Oniwakamaru ate at this time was shaped or cut into a round shape and then boiled.
Jukai was a bit bewildered at this behavior, but it did no harm, so he allowed it. He drew a hard line when it came to feeding Oniwakamaru owl and cat eyes, though.
***
A year passed, and Oniwakamaru still couldn't see. Sakuzō continued to pray to Tamon-ten and Kannon at Kurama Temple.
One morning at the beginning of spring, Sakuzō was moving the candle back and forth in front of Oniwakamaru's yes when he heard the boy gasp.
"What is it?" Sakuzō asked. He called out to Jukai, who rushed into the storage room.
"What happened?" Jukai asked.
"Oniwakamaru reacted to the light," Sakuzō said.
Jukai faced Oniwakamaru and looked closely at his eyes. "Oniwakamaru," he said, "this is very important. Try to describe exactly what you saw."
"Uh..."
Oniwakamaru didn't say anything for a while. He groaned as if he was in pain. Jukai held him up with a strong grip and waited.
Sakuzō tugged at Jukai's sleeve. "Don't be so hard on him, taifu," he said. "He's trying his best." Sakuzō's eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"Don't talk down to me, uncle Sakuzō," Oniwakamaru said sulkily.
Jukai put his hands on Oniwakamaru's cheeks and kept staring at his eyes. Tears streaked down Oniwakamaru's cheeks onto Jukai's fingers. They were warm.
Jukai stood frozen in place for a full minute. Sakuzō was equally stunned when he saw the tears overflowing from Oniwakamaru's eyes.
"Oniwakamaru, you're...crying! Crying for the first time..."
Sakuzō was crying as well, but they were tears of joy.
Jukai wiped Oniwakamaru's tears gently away. "You're doing so well," he said, pulling Oniwakamaru into a hug. "Just keep trying for a little longer, and I'm certain you'll be able to see. Sakuzō is right; I've been pushing you too hard. I'm sorry."
Oniwakamaru smiled. "I only cried because you scolded me. Crying is...warm water? It feels nice."
More changes came swiftly after that night. When Sakuzō or Jukai moved the candle back and forth before his face, Oniwakamaru’s artificial eyes tracked the candle's movement.
"Can you see?" Jukai asked.
"Not anything for sure," Oniwakamaru said. "I sense something blurry moving in front of me."
Oniwakamaru was finally beginning to perceive the difference between light and darkness.
***
It was the middle of spring. In the mountains near the capital, the weather became cool and refreshing. Jukai was so encouraged after seeing Oniwakamaru's tears that he started to really believe that he could learn how to see. Sakuzō stood in front of him day and night with the candle, searching Oniwakamaru's face intently.
"Sakuzō, start standing in different places with the candle," Jukai said. "If we keep going back and forth in a predictable pattern, it'll be harder to track his progress."
Sakuzō moved silently, candle in hand, to various places in the room. Oniwakamaru frowned and searched for where the light had gone.
One night after Jukai arrived home after making his rounds in the village, Sakuzō came out to meet him.
"Taifu," he said. "Oniwakamaru started to talk when he made friends with the monkeys in the forest. I think we should do sight training with him in the woods, at night."
"It's always night to Oniwakamaru," Jukai said.
"But the storage room and the forest are different," Sakuzō said.
Jukai froze. Sakuzō was right. Kurama teemed with life. Jukai had taken Oniwakamaru outside so much as an infant because he'd believed in nature's power to help heal him. If Sakuzō was right, then Oniwakamaru's restored hearing might also have something to do with him being out in nature.
Jukai clasped Sakuzō's shoulder. "We'll do it. Take Oniwakamaru out into the woods tonight."
"Huh?" Sakuzō asked loudly. He hadn't expected Jukai to agree so readily. Oniwakamaru had never been out on the mountain at night before. It was also somewhat dangerous for Sakuzō to push the cart around at night because of his leg. But taking Oniwakamaru out on the mountain at night to train his eyes was Sakuzō's idea; he wasn't about to refuse.
It had been a year since Oniwakamaru
started learning how to see, and there had been little change. Jukai and Sakuzō chose to risk taking Oniwakamaru outside at night in the hopes that
he would finally learn to see.
***
A month later, on a night with a full moon, Oniwakamaru went out into the woods with Sakuzō. Sakuzō pushed the cart over a rocky area, then stopped for rest. The moon was so bright and clear that he had no trouble finding his way. He looked around himself and realized that he'd gone deeper into the trees than he'd intended; he couldn't see the path anymore.
Oniwakamaru was silent. His eyes flashed in the silvery moonlight, but he couldn't see moon or the stars overhead or the boulders littering the forest floor.
"Uncle Sakuzō," Oniwakamaru said sharply. "Be careful. I hear something."
An owl darted out of the trees in front of them with a loud screech. Sakuzō stood bolt upright when he caught sight of six shadowy figures in front of him, looming and huge."
"Bears!" Sakuzō squeaked out in terror.
Oniwakamaru relaxed. "Oh! You mean like in the story with Kintarō?"1
Kintarō was a retainer of Minamoto no Yorimitsu, part of the same clan as Yoshitsune. Like Oniwakamaru, he was raised on a mountain where he befriended many animals. Oniwakamaru had heard about him in Jukai's stories.
Sakuzō panicked. He had to get away from this place. He tried to turn the cart around, but he was too slow; the bears were rapidly closing the distance. Most of the time, bears preferred to hunt sickly or easy prey and didn't attack people, but these bears seemed to realize that the cart was stuck and that Sakuzō wouldn't abandon it. They surrounded the cart on all sides.
Oniwakamaru used his weight to tip the cart over. He rolled down a hill into a bamboo grove. One of the bears growled and rushed after him. Sakuzō was frozen to the spot; he couldn't move. Oniwakamaru didn't scream or cry out.
The bear was just about to enter the bamboo grove when Sakuzō snapped into motion. Oniwakamaru's safety was far more important than his own. He didn't know how to save Oniwakamaru or himself: he had a bad leg and found it difficult to climb, and bears could climb trees, anyway. He'd heard stories of people playing dead to get bears to leave them alone, but doing that ran the risk of getting ripped to shreds.
Sakuzō was just about to charge at the bear when he heard Oniwakamaru's high-pitched laughter coming from the bamboo grove. Sakuzō dashed past the bear recklessly and pushed his way into the bamboo grove, where another bear was standing over Oniwakamaru.
It was licking him. Oniwakamaru was still laughing.
"He really is like Kintarō," Sakuzō muttered.
The bear stopped licking Oniwakamaru, then left the bamboo grove. Sakuzō ran over to Oniwakamaru and gathered him up in his arms. "Thank goodness you're safe! Don't go rolling off alone like that again."
Oniwakamaru did seem to have an unusual connection to the animals on the mountain, but Sakuzō had never even suspected that he could tame bears.
Oniwakamaru pointed his face straight up at the sky. Sakuzō looked up as well, but he didn't see anything strange. "What is it?" he asked.
"Uncle Sakuzō...is that the moon?" Oniwakamaru asked.
"What?!" Sakuzō's voice sounded too loud in his own ears; shock punched the question out of him.
Oniwakamaru's eyes caught and held the moonlight. Sakuzō turned his face a little away from the night sky, but Oniwakamaru just looked up again. "It...it's a white circle."
"You can see it?" Sakuzō asked. "That's it." He pointed. "The white circle...is the moon." By the time he was finished speaking, his voice was thick with strong emotion.
Oniwakamaru had learned to describe shapes and colors from Jukai and Sakuzō; they'd drawn common shapes on his skin and explained things like volume and depth so that he would have at least a conceptual understanding of what the physical world looked like.
Meeting the bears was a fortuitous chance, but Sakuzō didn't think it was an accident. Every time Oniwakamaru gained one of his senses, the animals on the mountain had something to do with it. Sakuzō found himself wondering if it was the bears or Jukai's long training that had finally given Oniwakamaru a sense of sight. He tended to think that all treatment was good treatment and that everything contributed to Oniwakamaru's development, even drinking the eye medicine made from special bamboo and eating lots of fish eyes.
Oniwakamaru's sense of sight continued to develop over time. The muscles around his eyes spasmed and contracted; he was able to blink if he focused on making the motion with his eyelids. At the end of a year, he could keep his eyelids closed while he slept. His artificial eyes moved freely in their sockets, back and forth and up and down.
The second year after Oniwakamaru gained his sense of sight, his eyes started to reflect his thoughts and emotions to a startling degree. Like Sakuzō, all of his feelings showed plainly on his face. He could see the kanji letters that Jukai drew and learned to write by placing a brush between his teeth and painting letters and shapes over and over again.
He could also distinguish the shapes of plants and animals from a fair distance away, and tell Jukai and Sakuzō apart from across the room. He also started to see certain colors when he was out in nature. Kurama's varied scenery became comfortable and familiar to his eyes. He looked at flowers in the moonlight while streams and rivers flowed past him. The more he looked, he more he wanted to, as if he was under a powerful enchantment.
Oniwakamaru could hear and see. As both senses developed, a whole new world opened to him. His excursions with Sakuzō in the forest changed; the mountain monkeys, his first friends, often came out to meet him—and he could see them now.
At twelve, Oniwakamaru looked like any other child while sitting still. His clothing concealed his missing limbs. Jukai thought that he looked more and more like a samurai's son as the years passed. He'd never planned to raise Oniwakamaru as a samurai, but he couldn't help seeing a certain resemblance to men he'd known in the capital.
Oniwakamaru was growing up. It was possible that he would want to go out into the world and meet more people. Jukai and Sakuzō became concerned about what might happen if he left the mountain. They didn't want anyone to look down on him or treat him badly.
In the spring of the year that Oniwakamaru turned thirteen, many people traveled through Kurama and up the mountain to visit temples and shrines. The path was relatively safe; women sometimes walked it alone, but Sakuzō always stayed off the common shrine and temple roads. Oniwakamaru had been attacked by militant monks almost six years ago now, but it never hurt to be too cautious.
One day a little before noon, Sakuzō was pushing the cart down a narrow mountain path. Tall trees grew to either side of the path, their thick branches entwining overhead. Sunlight dappled the ground and crossed over Oniwakamaru's face. A bush warbler sang in the trees.
"Ah, there it is," Sakuzō said, pointing to the bird. "It's singing so prettily, too."
Oniwakamaru took a deep breath of the damp spring air. Birds and small animals rustled through the flowers and tall grass to either side of the path. Sakuzō loved the spring more than any other season. Oniwakamaru had grown to love it, too, by experiencing it with him.
"The violets are all blooming near the village now," Sakuzō said. "I'd love to show them to you, but..."
"Why can't you?" Oniwakamaru asked. "Aren't there kids my age in the village?"
"Yes, but we don't know them," Sakuzō said. "They're strangers." He sounded lonely and somewhat sad. He'd been hiding in the mountains with Jukai when his fifth child was born. He'd never seen their face and didn't know their name. He didn't even know if the child was a boy or a girl.
"We should go to your village, uncle Sakuzō," Oniwakamaru said. "Your kids are there, so they're not strangers. I want meet them." He sounded almost as lonely as Sakuzō, but also strangely determined.
Oniwakamaru had never set eyes on his birth parents. Sakuzō had never seen his youngest child. Sakuzō had become Oniwakamaru's parent, and Oniwakamaru had wholly accepted him as such.
There was a flurry of activity up ahead: wild monkeys screeched to one another and scattered into the trees all around. A woman screamed for help somewhere nearby.
Sakuzō pushed the cart forward hastily and saw three women at the foot of the mountain path, all in various states of panic. It seemed that they'd lost their way en route to a temple or a shrine and stumbled into a group of frolicking monkeys. The monkeys didn't intend the women any harm, of course, but these women were from the capital, so they were unfamiliar with how animals on the mountain behaved.
Oniwakamaru's eyes filled with tears. "Uncle Sakuzō, we have to get down there, quick!" he shouted.
"Huh? Why?" Sakuzō asked. He stopped the cart; he had no reason to approach the women.
"They might have men with them, even samurai. They don't need our help." Sakuzō wanted to avoid making contact with anyone from the capital.
Oniwakamaru used his weight to shift the cart slightly forward. "We have to go help them! Please, uncle Sakuzō!"
He would topple the cart and roll down there on his own if Sakuzō didn't decide to accompany him. Sakuzō sighed and pushed the cart into motion.
"Too slow," Oniwakamaru called out. "Hurry up!"
"All right..." Sakuzō pushed the cart as fast as he could go. He halted only a little way away from the women.
Oniwakamaru looked up at the wild monkeys scampering in the trees. "Stop it," he said sternly. "You're scaring them!"
The monkeys quieted. They looked at Oniwakamaru with a curious expression, then climbed high up into the trees until they were lost from view.
Now that they were so close, Sakuzō could tell that the three women were all girls not much older than twelve or thirteen years old. They wore straw hats to shield their faces from the sun. One wore a veil that completely concealed her features. From their clothes alone, it was easy to tell that they were wealthy. Sakuzō guessed that this was a lady from the city accompanied by her attendants.
"Are any of you hurt?" Oniwakamaru asked. "The monkeys apologized for startling you, but..."
Oniwakamaru spoke politely enough, but apologizing on behalf of the monkeys sounded a little strange, even to Sakuzō.
Oniwakamaru and Sakuzō had seen old men and women come from Shizuhara to the mountain to gather herbs and medicinal plants before, though they'd always kept their distance. This was the first time that Oniwakamaru had ever seen people from the imperial capital of Kyōto. Their elaborate kimono and intricate hairstyles dazzled the eyes; even Sakuzō found it difficult to look at them for too long. It was like they were creatures from another world and would soon vanish.
Two girls bowed their heads to Sakuzō and Oniwakamaru.
"Thank you for saving us," one girl said.
"I don't know what we would have done without your help," said the other.
Judging by their speech, they must have mistaken Oniwakamaru for the son of a samurai or a lord. One girl approached the girl wearing a veil, then bowed. "I thank you both on behalf of our princess."
The veiled girl seemed to snap out of her fear when her title was spoken. She approached the cart, then threw back her veil. "Forgive me for being late to thank you," she said. "You truly have saved us, and I am genuinely grateful."
Oniwakamaru's eyes widened in shock. The princess was beautiful. Her face was a perfect oval. Her dark eyes sparkled in the bright sun. Her lips were painted a deep red that Oniwakamaru had never seen before. A faint blush tickled her white-painted cheeks. Like the other girls, she was young; Oniwakamaru's age or only slightly older.
Oniwakamaru gasped. "It's prettier than a picture book..." He spoke without realizing it, as if he was in a trance.
"Don't be disrespectful, Oniwakamaru," Sakuzō said. He tugged at the boy's sleeve.
The princess laughed. "How funny, comparing me to a picture book! I'm glad I'm prettier."
Oniwakamaru had never been a coward. He was also innocent of the ways of the world. It was fortunate that the princess had mistaken him for someone of high status. She'd noticed his missing limbs, but she hadn't reacted poorly or said anything about them. She really was being polite.
Oniwakamaru blushed and looked away. He tried to say something, but no words came out.
The princess gave Oniwakamaru a sly smile. "Are the monkeys on this mountain your friends?" she asked. He tone was light and friendly, which put Oniwakamaru more at ease.
"Yes," he said. "They are my friends—more like my brothers, really. Sometimes they tease people and make trouble, but usually they're very nice."
"It sounds like fun to have monkeys as such good friends," the princess said. "I'm a little jealous."
"Princess, we should return soon," one of her attendants said. "We've inconvenienced these gentlemen enough."
The princess shrugged helplessly, laughed a little, then bowed her head. "Please excuse us," she said. "And thank you again."
The two attendants bowed as well. The girls regained their bearings and started heading up the mountain path.
Oniwakamaru watched them go. He seemed reluctant to let them leave.
When Sakuzō told Jukai about their encounter that night, Jukai realized that Oniwakamaru was nearing the end of his childhood. He'd shown signs of nervousness and self-consciousness around the girls: emotions that he'd never really felt before. Today was probably the first time he'd ever looked at a girl in the same way that men looked at women.
Oniwakamaru's confidence in himself was a hard-won thing. He'd spent long nights in the storage room and in the woods, training his eyes to see. Even if he did have some kind of power or blessing from the god of Iwakura Shrine, he'd still been forced to work for everything he'd gained in life, step by slow step. Sakuzō gave partial credit to Tamon-ten and Kannon. Jukai knew that at least some of his medical treatments had been effective. Oniwakamaru had grown and developed as far as he could. The time had finally come to apply some of Yōda's knowledge.
Yōda was Jukai's old master and teacher. He was a gifted surgeon with a specialization in prosthetics. Jukai had learned much from him that would be useful now that Oniwakamaru was grown.
One night, soon after Oniwakamaru's encounter with the princess, Jukai woke Sakuzō in the middle of the night.
"I want to do another surgery," Jukai said.
Sakuzō rubbed sleep out of his eyes. "Another surgery?"
"Yes. A serious one—more difficult than any surgery I've ever attempted before."
Sakuzō searched Jukai's face as if he were looking for secrets and hidden meanings. "He can hear, see, and speak—what else is there to do surgery on?" he asked.
"His arms and legs," Jukai said.
Sakuzō grinned hugely. "I see. So you'll be giving him fake legs, like mine?"
"Yes. And arms and hands, too," Jukai said.
"But why? Won't they just get in the way? It's not like he'll be able to move them."
"Yes, he will."
"What? He'll actually be able to move?" Sakuzō's expression was serious, but there was laughter in his eyes. "Impossible. I've still got half a leg left, so you were able to attach the fake leg to that, but there's no place to attach arms and legs to Oniwakamaru anywhere."
"That's why I need to do surgery on him," Jukai said.
Sakuzō frowned. "I remember how badly his eyes hurt...won't a surgery like that hurt a whole lot worse?"
"Yes," Jukai said. "I'll have to graft certain materials onto his bones, so—"
Sakuzō didn't let Jukai finish. He shook his head violently and glared at Jukai. He'd agreed to having his leg cut off to save his own life, not knowing how Jukai intended to make him walk again. His recovery had been long and arduous, even as an adult. He didn't want to put Oniwakamaru through something even worse.
But Jukai believed, and believed completely, in Yōda's arts when it came to restoring the functionality of lost limbs. Jukai used great patience and care to explain what he was planning.
"Surgery is always a careful and meticulous process," Jukai said. "Tools and medicines need to be selected and prepared. The timing of the surgery is also important. Oniwakamaru will be fourteen soon—an adult, under the law. He may not have his full adult growth yet, but he's had several growth spurts and I suspect that he's about as tall as he'll ever be. It's time to restore everything he's still lacking."
Sakuzō still didn't agree to the surgery. "It's too dangerous, taifu. What if you kill him? He has his senses back and he can speak; isn't that enough? It's more than we ever thought he would have. I've been Oniwakamaru's arms and legs for his whole life. He doesn't need them as long as he has me."
Jukai sighed. "I understand how you feel. All surgery has risks." He paused. "Sakuzō... I think that I should tell you why I became a doctor..."
The sounds of the mountain and forest enfolded them in a cocoon of soothing night sounds as Jukai spoke. Sakuzō wept openly as he listened to Jukai's story.
1 Kintarō is a folk hero from Japanese folklore. A
child of superhuman strength, he was raised on Mount Ashigara, where he
became friendly with the animals of the mountain. Kintarō is
supposedly based on a real person, Sakata Kintoki, who lived during the
Heian period and probably came from what is now the city of
Minamiashigara, Kanagawa.↩
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