Dororo: A Novel
Tsuji Masaki
Part Five
The Tale of Hakumenfudō,
the Demon Without a Face
Chapter 1
“Aniki, those look like some tasty persimmons. We should get some!”
Dororo had been trying to get Hyakkimaru’s attention all day, but Hyakkimaru didn’t spare Dororo so much as a second glance. He stared straight ahead and kept walking.
Dororo waved his hands overhead, still trying to distract Hyakkimaru. Scowling, he threw a rock into the higher reaches of the persimmon tree, dislodging a few fruits that fell. Hyakkimaru didn’t pick up any of the fruits and left Dororo to gather them himself.
Picking up a likely-looking large persimmon, Dororo bit in, then almost immediately spat it out. “Yikes! These are sour!” The persimmon he’d eaten was far from ripe, and his face contorted into a variety of weird expressions.
Any other person on the road would have noticed Dororo’s antics and perhaps been amused by them, but not Hyakkimaru. He kept walking.
“Aren’t you gonna say something, aniki?” Dororo asked. “You look like you just came from a funeral or somethin’. It makes me not want to steal your sword arms anymore.”
“Then don’t,” Hyakkimaru said with more force than was strictly necessary.
“Don’t?” Dororo snorted. “You think that’s an option, aniki? No, I’ll just take care of you until you feel better. That’s when I’ll make my move.”
“Who asked you to take care of me?” Hyakkimaru asked.
“No one has to ask!” Dororo answered cheerfully. “Friends take care of each other, aniki, even without asking.”
“Who says we’re friends?”
“Uh, Miss Mio seemed to think we were...”
“Go away,” Hyakkimaru said. “Don’t remind me of what happened. Not ever.” He whirled on Dororo, towering over him. Dororo had never seen Hyakkimaru look so terrifying before.
“I mean it,” Hyakkimaru said after a long pause. “You should leave. Leave, and don’t come back.”
Dororo waited for Hyakkimaru to say more. When he didn’t, Dororo’s mouth dropped open. “Eh?”
“I’m saying that we shouldn’t travel together anymore,” Hyakkimaru said. He was thinking about the future--a dark and dangerous future, now that Mio and the children were gone. If he and Dororo stuck together, Hyakkimaru would be constantly reminded of the day when the temple had burned. He would probably never forget that day, but Dororo’s presence would do nothing to help him now.
“You said I should leave?” Dororo asked.
Hyakkimaru was thinking about Dororo’s safety as well as everything he’d lost, but Dororo didn’t interpret his words that way. He felt like Hyakkimaru had poured cold water in his ear while he was sleeping.
Dororo shook his head. “You’re just in a bad mood. It’ll pass. We’re bound to each other now, aniki, and I’m not about to let go.” Dororo blew air into his cheeks and put on his best smile. “Let’s go! We’re wasting time.”
Hyakkimaru removed his prosthetic right arm, revealing the blade beneath.
“Whoa, aniki,” Dororo said, stepping back. Hyakkimaru was obviously angrier than he’d thought. “There’s no need to wave that sword around! Keep doing that, and I might get scared!”
Turnabout was fair play. Hyakkimaru had ignored Dororo, and Dororo had ignored his command to leave. Dororo still thought that Hyakkimaru threatening him with a sword was overkill.
“So you really wanna ditch me that bad, huh,” Dororo said, putting more space between him and Hyakkimaru. “You gotta be more clear. Sometimes I, uh, just don’t get it...” Dororo started spouting nonsense. It was a defense mechanism. He often did that when he was upset or angry, and it was easier and less wounding to his pride than begging Hyakkimaru to let him stay.
“If you want the sword, take it,” Hyakkimaru said.
Dororo stood dumbstruck in the road. “Take it? Are you stupid? That’s not how this works! I can’t steal it from you if you give it to me, ya moron.”
At this point, Hyakkimaru should have realized that Dororo would stick by him through everything. Perhaps he did realize it, but didn’t want to admit it.
“You never understand me at all, aniki. I’m so tired of it,” Dororo said. He’d known Hyakkimaru for all of a month, but he was sure that he’d never forget him. Tears streamed down his face that he brushed hastily away.
Dororo laughed, still crying, though he was trying to pull himself together. “Hehehe!”
“Little boy, why are you crying?”
Dororo looked behind him and saw a woman standing in the road. The woman blinked rapidly, looking at Dororo with an expression of bewilderment.
“Uh... who are you, lady?” Dororo asked.
“I’m just passing by.” She smiled.
“Well, I wasn’t crying. Get your eyes checked,” Dororo said. He looked more closely at the woman. She reminded him of someone. Indeed, the woman was the spitting image of his own mother.
When Dororo thought to look for Hyakkimaru again, he was gone, but that bothered him less now. The woman that looked like his mother had his full attention.
“My home isn’t far. Why don’t you rest there for a while before you go chasing after your friend again?”
Her voice was so kind. Dororo agreed to her idea and followed her down the road. As they walked, Dororo kept sneaking glances at the woman.
“Hm? Is there something on my face?” the woman asked. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“It’s nothing,” Dororo said. “You just look like my mom, is all.”
“I see.” The woman seemed amused. Dororo didn’t know why.
They reached the house. The woman made tea and poured it for both of them. Then she asked, “What was your mother like?”
“Uh... what do you mean?” Dororo asked.
“What I said.”
“Most people are surprised when I tell them about my mom.”
“Why?”
“’Cuz she was a thief,” Dororo said. “And a bandit.”
The woman’s eyes widened. Dororo rarely spoke of his past to anyone. Even Hyakkimaru didn’t know about Dororo’s parents.
The truth was that both of Dororo’s parents had been world-famous thieves.
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