Dororo: A Novel
Tsuji Masaki
Part Two:
The Tale of Yarokamizu,
the Water Demon
Chapter 4
“Fifteen years ago, my body was sacrificed to demons. Forty-eight pieces of it were stolen by forty-eight different demons. When I was born, I was lacking all those pieces--eyes and ears, hands and feet... I looked more like a bug than a person. I learned later that I was the son of a samurai named Daigo. He abandoned me at birth, setting me adrift in the river.
“A doctor picked me up. He discovered and encouraged a mysterious power within me, and helped it grow. Because of this power, I was able to move and speak.
“The doctor discovered this power when he found me where the food was kept, gorging myself. I had no eyes to see or nose to smell, so how had I found the food? We could communicate as well--not through speech, but mind to mind. I could hear what he thought, and he could hear what I thought. He raised me. More than that, he made every effort to give me a normal body. My eyes, ears, and limbs are all prosthetics that he created.”
“What?” Dororo asked. “He made you eyes and ears and arms and legs? I had no idea you could make those!”
“Yes. They’re made of wood and metal and only look like the real thing.”
“What a surprise... really. I’ve never seen anyone like you before.” Of course Dororo was surprised. Hyakkimaru had just told him that he was some kind of cyborg or something, like from a science fiction story.
“My real father is the doctor, not the samurai. He’s an amazing person. He’s well-educated in everything from medicine to history to martial arts. He put me through a strict and thorough training regimen so that I’d be able to move my limbs freely on my own. I worked hard every day to pass as an ordinary person. I came up with the idea of concealing the swords in my arms, so that I’d be able to protect myself better.”
“Well, you certainly had strong motivation,” Dororo said.
“Those aren’t the only weapons concealed in my body. I’m prepared to face any enemy, and win. But my manufactured body is heavy, and gets heavier with everything I carry. Not just physically, either. I have an awareness of myself as something not quite human. There are times when I feel like a doll. But I want to to be human. I don’t just want to be shaped like one--I want to be one, for real.
“I told my father that. Shortly after, he started hearing rumors--about Daigo, and about the demons. He told me this: ‘You’ve been cursed by demons. It may be that if you kill them, the pieces of your body that they stole might return to you.'”
“So that’s what you’re doing, aniki? 1 Killing demons one-by-one and getting back the parts of your body?”
“Aniki?” Hyakkimaru raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed so familiarly by Dororo.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just what I’ll call you.”
Hyakkimaru offered Dororo a world-weary smile. “Fine, I won’t argue. I’ve been getting my body back, bit by bit. For example...”
Before Hyakkimaru could say another word, he doubled over and started coughing violently.
“Oi! What’s wrong, aniki?”
Hyakkimaru curled into a ball. His right hand came up to his throat and locked around it. Every breath he took caused more painful coughing. Shuddering wracked his spine and shoulders.
Dororo seized his left arm in one hand, then said, “I didn’t know you had asthma, aniki!” And then, without giving it so much as a second thought, Dororo gripped Hyakkimaru’s arm and pulled. The blade concealed inside it gleamed dully as it was revealed.
“Well, that was easy,” Dororo said. “But now what?”
Hyakkimaru finally stopped coughing. He turned toward Dororo and caught him up with his right hand.
Dororo probably should have thought over his plan a bit better. Hyakkimaru’s sword arms were clearly attached to him. It wasn’t enough to expose the swords; he had to figure out a way to remove them from Hyakkimaru somehow. Stealing the arms off a person would be hard for anyone, even the world’s greatest thief.
Before Hyakkimaru could say anything, Dororo gasped.
“Oh, I get it! You killed a demon! You got your voice back, right? I could hear it when you coughed!”
“What?” Hyakkimaru’s voice came out of his own throat. His lips moved and he spoke, just like ordinary people. “You’re right--that pain I felt in my throat was my voice returning to me.”
Hyakkimaru had defeated Yarokamizu, the Water Demon. His victory meant that he would no longer need to rely on telepathy to communicate.
“I was expecting your voice to be, I dunno, like a kid’s. You sound like a man!” Dororo said.
“Uh, thanks?”
“Try laughing.”
“Laughing?” Hyakkimaru tilted his head in confusion. Using his voice to communicate felt a lot different from using telepathy. He didn’t understand what Dororo was asking.
“Uh, how do I laugh?” Hyakkimaru asked.
“You’re hopeless without me, aniki.” Dororo sighed. “Open your mouth, then say ‘ha.’”
“Ha.”
“Then you just say ‘ha’ over and over.”
“Hahaha?”
“It’s not a question! You’re supposed to be happy when you laugh. Try again.”
“Hahaha!”
“No, that’s not it--pull up your voice from your gut. Laughing is louder.”
Dororo crouched down and sat on a stone. He looked up, then said, “Try again!”
Hyakkimaru turned to look at Dororo closely. He hadn’t noticed just how small his clothes were before. His hakama were above his knees and his uwagi 2 didn’t close over his chest.
Hyakkimaru tried to use his chest voice, letting out another laugh: “Hahaha!”
“That’s it! You’ve got it!” Dororo jumped to his feet. “Don’t forget how to do that, now. Ouch!”
Dororo had been wounded during his fight with the other thieves. His injuries made themselves felt when Dororo made sudden movements. He followed after Hyakkimaru, mindful of his bumps and scrapes.
“Hey, aniki! Wait for me!”
Hyakkimaru was climbing uphill along a road that cut through a mountain pass. The sun had long since set.
Dororo hadn’t given up on following Hyakkimaru for even a moment. He gamboled around Hyakkimaru like a dog, running ahead, then dashing behind, moving in circles around him as if he expected praise or a treat.
“I’ve told you everything that I’m going to tell you,” Hyakkimaru said. “You should be on your way.” Hyakkimaru’s tone was stern and cold and would brook no argument.
“I go where you go until I get my hands on those swords,” Dororo said. “Until I do, I’ll follow you through hell and high water, stubborn as a soft-shelled turtle. 3”
“Leave me now. You’ll only get in the way.”
“Of course I am; I’m a thief. Getting in the way is a professional hazard.”
“Do you remember the demon you saw today? I’ve killed ten. That means there are thirty-eight left.”
“Fine by me! If the demons are hunting you, they’ll hunt me, too.”
“You don’t understand anything about this at all! Go home!”
“I have no home.”
“Then go!”
“No!”
Hyakkimaru spoke slowly and distinctly, enunciating each syllable. “Leave, right now, and never come back.”
“I will not.” Dororo matched Hyakkimaru’s deliberateness in his response.
They fought and argued, these two odd children, for hours as they traveled. Demons lay along their road. Hyakkimaru was hunting them... and now, so was Dororo.
1 Aniki is Dororo’s usual way of addressing Hyakkimaru. The term means “older brother.” Dororo doesn’t use oniisan, the more usual Japanese term for “older brother” used to politely address a younger man, related or not. The tone of aniki is stronger than oniisan and implies a stronger relationship.↩
2 Hakama and uwagi: These are historical and traditional Japanese clothing pieces. Hakama correspond roughly to pants, and an uwagi is an over-garment (like a shirt) that is usually tied in the front by a belt. ↩
3 スッポン: Soft-shelled turtle, suppon, is what Dororo compares himself to. There is no similar idiom in English. It is possible that Dororo chose this comparison because most species of soft-shell turtles have incredibly powerful jaws, capable of amputating a human finger in one bite and severing larger limbs with a bit more effort. ↩
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