Yatagarasu Series
Volume 5:
Princess Tamayori
Author: Abe Chisato
Epilogue: Coming Home
“Hello. Thank you for all your help,” Mr. Tanimura said to the nurses at the hospital. They knew him now; he visited Shiho frequently.
“I brought a little something for you. Please help yourselves,” he offered, lifting a small bag.
“Honestly, you’re always so thoughtful,” one of the nurses replied, her smile genuine.
“Is Shiho ready to accept visitors?” he asked.
“She seems to be doing well. I heard that she’ll be discharged soon. I’m sure she’d like it if you visited her.”
“Really? That’s wonderful news!” His face lit up with hope.
Despite the uplifting news, the nurses still looked a bit worried.
“She suffered terrible burns, you understand,” one nurse said softly.
“Her body is healing, but we must consider her emotional state,” another added, her brow furrowed.
“She puts on a brave face to keep us from worrying,” a third nurse said.
“And she doesn’t have any family, right?”
The question hung heavily in the air.
Mr. Tanimura addressed the nurses with a radiant smile. “No need to worry. She’s a strong girl. I’ve spoken to my wife. If Shiho agrees, we’d like to invite her to stay with us for a while.”
The suggestion brought a wave of relief to the nurses. “If she’s with you, Mr. Tanimura, we can rest easy.” Their expressions brightened, and when he requested their help to persuade Shiho, they all nodded eagerly.
Mr. Tanimura headed toward the hospital room, waving at the nurses as he went.
***
“Shiho. How are you feeling today?”
“Hi, Mr. Tanimura. I’m doing well.” Shiho slowly lifted herself from where she lay watching television. Her movements were careful, her face marked by unmistakable burn scars.
“Don’t push yourself,” Mr. Tanimura urged gently.
“I’m fine. I feel much better today,” she said, smiling.
Shiho hadn’t been able to sit up for long periods of time until recently. Her recovery was remarkable. The injuries she had endured were profound—her eardrums had ruptured, leaving her initially unresponsive to the voices around her. Her throat, ravaged by burns, had silenced her completely for a time, forcing her into isolation.
Now, with her hearing and speech gradually returning, she often lingered in her own thoughts.
“I heard you held my grandmother’s memorial service at my uncle’s place. Thank you so much.”
Mr. Tanimura beamed with joy at her recovery. He settled into the chair beside her bed. “I wasn’t certain if it was appropriate to proceed with the service while you were away. I hope you can forgive me for taking it upon myself.”
“I’m glad you did it. I was really worried about that.”
“Where would you like her remains interred? Did she make arrangements in Tokyo?” he asked.
“My grandmother’s family home should be nearby, but I’m not entirely sure,” she said, uncertainty evident in her voice.
“Let’s take our time investigating. I know of a temple where we can ask for guidance. Don’t worry about it. But tell me, Shiho, what do you plan to do now?”
She pondered his question. “What do you mean?”
“Hisano took care of the paperwork for a leave of absence for you, but you’re going back to high school, right?”
“Right, school… Even though it hasn’t even been a year, it feels like I left a long, long time ago…” Shiho gazed out the window. Her expression was slightly sleepy, like she’d just awakened from a dream.
Mr. Tanimura didn’t like seeing that expression. He didn’t want to leave her here alone.
“Shiho.”
“Yes?”
Mr. Tanimura decided that he needed to talk about some difficult topics. Shiho deserved to know what had happened, and he wouldn’t feel right leaving her in ignorance.
“I heard from Nazukihiko about what happened between the mountain god and the shrine maiden from a hundred years ago.” Mr. Tanimura shifted in his seat. “I think there was another reason that the mountain god ended up like that.”
“Another reason?”
“Yeah. What happened to Sayo was regrettable, but I think it was an accident. The real reason he changed was something else.”
“What?” Shiho asked, tilting her head.
“The mountain god’s power was waning,” Mr. Tanimura said. “He was used to being a powerful god. People prayed to him for good harvests and prosperity. As the years passed, rice cultivation and harvests became stable even without the mountain god’s power. Faith in agricultural gods faded nationwide as that happened.
“And it’s not just agricultural gods. Many gods who no longer fit the flow of the times fall into obscurity, their names forgotten even by themselves. It didn’t help that there was a Kuisaru among the god’s servants who knew that power could be gained through blood sacrifices.”
The mountain god, who was losing power and influence, had been guided by Ōzaru to act as an evil god that desired sacrifices.
“Mythology is full of stories about evil gods that are vanquished and replaced by savior gods. The monster that became a man-eater is fated to be defeated by a hero who becomes the new god.”
Shiho closed her eyes. “So Tsubaki is dead?”
“I’m sorry. Tsubaki and Ōzaru were defeated by the hero,” Mr. Tanimura said softly.
“I see…”
“But, Shiho… It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. The mountain god would have either faded away from lack of worship, or he would have become a monster. There were no other choices.”
“No other choices…” Shiho looked at her hands.
Mr. Tanimura nodded firmly. “He didn’t die a monster. You should know that. I think he redeemed himself.”
“How?”
“He had you. He cared about you, so he let himself die so that he’d never harm you or others again.” He smiled slightly. “Do you understand? Shiho, you made him recover his sense of self as a god. He didn’t die in his monstrous form, angry and hated. His final moments were truly splendid. He faced his death bravely. You couldn’t have given him any more than that.”
Mr. Tanimura looked into Shiho’s eyes. “Tsubaki was grateful to you. He must have wished for you to return to the human world so that you could be happy.”
Shiho looked up at Mr. Tanimura.
“Tsubaki, and your grandmother too—the people who love you, everyone wants that. Everyone wants you to be happy.”
“Mr. Tanimura…” Her eyes were clear.
“You don’t need to worry about tuition or living expenses. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. Let your friends take care of you now.”
Shiho’s only blood relative was her uncle, but as soon as he was able to move, he’d transferred to another hospital. Mr. Tanimura thought it might be better to squeeze a little money out of him, but Shiho had no intention of doing that.
In the end, not a single person had died because of the lightning storm. The villagers’ houses had burned, so most of them had decided to leave Sannai Village. There was a lot of land up for sale. The sacred rites to the mountain god could no longer be conducted.
Mr. Tanimura felt like it was the end of an era for the villagers, the Yatagarasu, and the Kuisaru. He was already making plans with his fellow Tengu to swindle Shiho’s uncle and the other villagers out of their money. There were any number of ways to do it.
“I can’t take advantage of you like that,” Shiho said.
“If you don’t, it’ll be a problem for me. You don’t need to worry about anything from now on.”
Shiho smiled faintly. “Please let me think about it a little before I decide.”
“Of course. Take your time and think, okay?” He stood up. “I’m going to the cafe. Is there anything you want to eat? I’ll treat you to anything,” he added.
Shiho grinned. “Thank you. Actually, I’ve been craving mandarin orange jelly this whole time.”
“Okay, I’ll go buy it.”
“I’m sorry to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Mr. Tanimura left the hospital room and let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like Shiho would be fine, in time. He hadn’t told her the full truth about everything, but she still needed to rest and heal. He hoped that Shiho would be able to live her life as an ordinary person from now on.
Mr. Tanimura bought mandarin orange jelly and then returned to the hospital. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said as he opened the door to Shiho’s room.
The window was slightly open; the curtain fluttered in the breeze.
Shiho was gone.
***
“Miss, are you okay?” the taxi driver asked Shiho.
Shiho was rummaging through her grandmother’s wallet. She’d been given it because she was her grandmother’s next-of-kin.
“The forecast says it’s going to snow, so shall I take you right to the front of your house?”
Shiho thought she’d hidden the burns with her hood, but it seemed he’d noticed them. Shiho paid the taxi fare with exact change and smiled brightly.
“I’m fine—my house is right there.”
“All right. Be careful, miss.”
Shiho waved at the taxi as it drove off.
She remembered the first time she’d come here, during the start of Golden Week months ago. Rice paddies that had once been filled with water were pitch-black, burned before the harvest. The houses that had lined both sides of the road were in ruins. The air smelled scorched. She didn’t see a single person anywhere around.
Shiho followed the road carefully so that she wouldn’t trip on rubble. The bridge leading into the Dragon Marsh was mostly intact. Shiho crossed it, traveling step by step to the shrine gate that marked the edge of the mountain god’s realm.
She took a deep breath and called out, “You’re there, aren’t you?”
“You’re still injured. You came here alone?” a silver-haired young man asked reproachfully. His hair had changed, but his face was exactly like Tsubaki’s.
Shiho didn’t move. She recognized Tsubaki’s face, but his eyes were different. Unfamiliar.
“I’m sorry for what I had to do, Shiho.” He shook his head. “I killed your son.”
Shiho stared back at the young man. She remembered Tsubaki’s anguished eyes, dark and hollow and empty. The young man’s eyes blazed with light and confidence. There was nothing of Tsubaki in them at all.
“So you’re the hero who says you killed Tsubaki.”
“Yeah, that’s right. The mountain god surrendered to me.” A large beast appeared out of nowhere. It looked like an overgrown dog at first glance, but it had a mane and was far larger than any ordinary dog. A lion?
The huge lion pressed its muzzle against the new mountain god’s outstretched hand.
“He couldn’t return to being a god, but he didn’t run away. He chose to take responsibility for what he’d done. You should be proud of your son.”
“I am.”
“He was a monster, but thanks to you, he was able to meet his end with dignity,” he said magnanimously. “And I am his successor. You are free now.”
Shiho looked down.
The new mountain god frowned. “I understand that it’s hard to accept, but there’s nothing more you can do. You should return to your own world and live your life.”
“I can’t,” Shiho said.
“What?”
Shiho was smiling. “Not everything Junten told me is true. I know you’re not some hero who came to save me out of nowhere.” She smiled. “I’m home, Tsubaki. I told you I would come back, and I did.”
“What? What are you saying?”
“You can’t trick me. It won’t work.” Shiho giggled. “I’m your mother, remember? And you’re my son, Tsubaki.”
He stood there with his mouth hanging open.
“You won’t admit it?” Shiho asked.
“Admit what? I’m not Tsubaki.”
“You think you’re not.”
“What does that mean?”
Shiho smiled. “Tsubaki said it. Something was missing in him. What was missing wasn’t me—it was you.”
There was a reason that Tsubaki had lost himself in wrath.
“He was only half a god. He had his wild spirit, but not his rational one. You are Tsubaki’s rational half.”
Faith in the mountain god centered around Mt. Ara. The villagers celebrated their festival in spring. The god’s rational half dwelt in the village shrine—near where Shiho had first seen the silver-haired boy. The god’s wild half lived on the mountain. The spring festival’s original intention was to unite these two halves, but people had forgotten that along with the god’s true name. When autumn came and the harvest was over, the wild spirit would return to the mountain and the rational spirit would return to the village shrine. The spring festival was one of renewal and unification—a cycle of rebirth, not for the mountain god’s body, but for his soul.
“Tsubaki forgot the meaning of the festival. He never came down to the village to reunite with you, and you kept growing weaker, cut off from his power, until you were forced to act—to come to him instead of the other way around.
“The reason you always appeared around the Dragon Marsh was that you couldn’t go far from the village shrine. You knew what happened to Sayo because you witnessed it, but you were powerless to intervene. Until you reunited with the wild half, you had no physical body. You were a ghost. You needed someone to acknowledge you as the hero who would slay the man-eating god in order to leave the shrine. That’s why you used Junten, right?”
The mountain god’s face rapidly drained of color. “Y-you… Who are you? You’re not Shiho.”
Shiho gave him a wry grin. “I’m Princess Tamayori.”
“So it’s you,” the new mountain god muttered. “You manipulated Shiho into this. Let her go. This is a farce, and I want no part in it. When did you possess Shiho? If you’d let her run away, she never would have gotten hurt!”
Princess Tamayori kept smiling.
“Are you mocking me?” the new mountain god asked.
“No. I’m happy.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been wishing for Shiho’s happiness all along. You sent her back to the human world on purpose.” She laughed.
The mountain god stood speechless for a while.
“Hey, Tsubaki. If I say it like this, will you understand?” With a light step that showed no trace of her severe injuries, Princess Tamayori approached the mountain god. “I have never been manipulated. I have always been Shiho, and Shiho has always been me.”
The mountain god stared at her as if he were looking at a monster. “What are you saying?”
Princess Tamayori let out an exaggerated sigh.
“When Shiho became the shrine maiden of this mountain, she received my memories. But that was the same for the other girls, too.” She was the mountain god’s staunchest ally. She wanted the new shrine maidens to fulfill their roles as Princess Tamayori as much as possible, and had continued to interfere with them in the form of dreams to the best of her ability. “I never manipulated their choices. I gave them information, and they decided how to use it.” She smiled. “Did you think that I’d been changed by that vengeful spirit? I wasn’t. She and I were not the same thing. Poor Sayo.” She crossed her arms.
“So… you’re Shiho?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying from the start, isn’t it?”
“But… that’s impossible. How can you be Shiho and Princess Tamayori?”
Shiho quirked an eyebrow. “Princess Tamayori doesn’t need a pedigree. I can be any woman, from any background. I’m not like you; I don’t require special rites to be reborn. As long as you are alive, I will be, too. There’s only one thing required to become Princess Tamayori.”
The new mountain god swallowed heavily. “And what’s that?”
“To love the mountain god. That’s all.” She smiled again. “The girls who were devoured had all the same information as Shiho. They just made different choices. Shiho chose to be Princess Tamayori.”
“I see.” The new mountain god staggered backward.
A big dog with soft, fluffy fur ran up to Shiho and barked. The dog had a rounded horn growing from his forehead.
Shiho leaned down and petted Momo’s head. “This is what Shiho chose. She has no regrets.” She looked up at the mountain god. “So admit it already.”
“Admit what?”
“That you’re Tsubaki. You always have been.”
“I’m Tsubaki? No.” The denial had no conviction behind it. “I have none of my former memories. I’m no one—an entirely new god.”
“You’re still Tsubaki, because Princess Tamayori loves you,” she said simply.
The new god rubbed his temples as if he were enduring a particularly painful headache. “You think I am Tsubaki, so you say I am Tsubaki?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Don’t I have a choice?”
“Do you not want to be Tsubaki?”
“No, I absolutely don’t.” He scowled. “I can’t win against you, Mother. I’m sorry.”
Shiho—Princess Tamayori—smiled wider. “Don’t apologize to me. There isn’t any need.” She reached out and pulled him into a hug.
Tsubaki looked like he might burst into tears at any moment. “I wanted Shiho to be happy. I’ve ruined everything.”
“No you haven’t; don’t be stupid. I didn’t do all this for your sake. I did it for myself.” Princess Tamayori rested her cheek against Tsubaki’s shoulder. “Shiho has always acted only for herself, and she thinks about things rationally in her own way. It’s just that her definition of ‘rational’ doesn’t match most people’s. Shiho is happy, because this is what she chose. I promise.”
“She couldn’t live her ordinary life as a human because of me,” Tsubaki said sulkily.
“What’s the problem with that? Not everyone wants an ordinary life.” Princess Tamayori’s expression stilled, and she looked very much like a pensive Shiho in that moment. “Grandma and my parents might be sad that I can’t live an ordinary life, but I had a choice, and that isn’t what I wanted for myself. I’m sure they’ll be happy if I’m happy. That’s the best I can do. I wish I could talk to them so that they would understand.”
Shiho scrunched up her face and laughed. “I’m a terribly unfilial, selfish daughter. Everything I’ve ever done, I did for myself.”
Shiho was ideally suited to become Princess Tamayori. She had no firm ambitions for her own future.
“Tsubaki, I love you. I want to live with you from now on. That’s enough to make me happy. What about you?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I’d like you to stay here, too,” Tsubaki said. “Thank you, Shiho.”
They shared a gentle hug. Shiho patted Tsubaki’s back and then looked up at the sky. Snow was falling: small, gentle flakes that glimmered like tiny diamonds.
“The old rituals are done,” Shiho said. “You and I are the last generation of mountain god and Princess Tamayori. Do you have any regrets?”
“No.” Tsubaki shook his head. “It ended because it was meant to end. I’m glad that I was able to see you again before my final ending. It is enough.”
“All right.”
Tsubaki raised his head, looking up at the mountain peak that towered over them. “I have done so many terrible things. To innocent women, to the Yatagarasu, and to the Kuisaru…”
Princess Tamayori said nothing. She took the mountain god’s hand in hers and squeezed.
The cloudy sky split open, revealing a column of silver moonlight that shone down on the mountain.
“Let’s go home, Tsubaki.”
“All right,” he said. “Let’s.”
Tsubaki and Shiho took each other by the hand. They led the lion and the dog up the path, walking slowly. The mountain loomed over them, glowing faintly in the night like a luminous pearl.
***
Once upon a time, when Kamo no Tamayori was playing in the river in Ishikawa, a red-painted arrow came floating down to her from upstream. She picked it up, set it by the side of her bed, and became pregnant. She gave birth to a boy.
When the boy grew to manhood, his maternal grandfather, Kamo Taketsunumi, built a house, made stout the doors of eight entrances, brewed eight jars of rice wine, gathered people for a banquet, and for seven days and seven nights held a grand festival. Then he spoke with the boy and said, “Make the person you think is your father drink this rice wine.” Thereupon the boy raised the cup of rice wine, intending to present it in worship toward the heavens. He split the roof of the house with the gesture, and ascended into the heavens.
Taking his name from his maternal grandfather, the boy was called Kamo Wakeikazuchi…
Translator's Note
The Chronicles of Japan, Shaku Nihongi, is a 28-volume commentary compiled by Urabe Kanekata between 1274 and 1301 CE. It is a critical, scholarly resource that preserves earlier interpretations, variant readings, and lost fragments of fudoki (ancient provincial gazetteers) and other early Japanese literature. It is not to be confused with the 8th-century Shoku Nihongi, a much older historical text.
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