(D3, LE, Dark Corner of the Monastery) Spooky Story Time (OPEN)

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

Date: Day Three of the Sweeping Monk Incident
Location: Circle's End Monastery
Time: Hour of the Boar
Lighting: Dim Candlelight

After the exhaustive trials of the previous hour, some of the candidates (See Appendix 4) had gone back to their preferred sleeping spot to recharge for the coming day. Still, Soshi-san had seemed quite interested in an informal gathering for storytelling, and I was of a mind to oblige her. Having found a dark and secluded corner of the monastery, I waited with a small box of candles, a single one lit. Each participant would only have the one, so the lighting was quite dim, and the atmosphere seemed perfect for scary story telling.

The journal of Kitsuki Kindachi, The Sweeping Monk Incident

And so Kindachi sat next to his unlit box of candles with a single one lit. Given her interest, he expected at least the Soshi to show up and claim a candle, but who else would be bold enough?

[Soshi Naoko]

The Soshi did arrive, but did not claim a candle, shaking one of her own out of her sleeve before pulling another 4 from her scroll satchel. As she kneels to settle into a seat, she pauses, reaches beneath the edge of her black kimono and extracts another from the upper edge of a warm-looking, knee-high stocking."Evening Kitsuki-san!" She says as she pours the extra candles into his box.

For a moment, she holds the candle out to the air while rummaging in her satchel, then shakes her head with a chuckle and leans over to light hers from the Dragon's candle. Tilting it, she drips a small pool of wax to the stone floor before sticking the base of her candle into the puddle to secure it.

"Find anything interesting, like really good bojutsu techniques, so far?"

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

The Soshi did arrive, but did not claim a candle, shaking one of her own out of her sleeve before pulling another 4 from her scroll satchel. As she kneels to settle into a seat, she pauses, reaches beneath the edge of her black kimono and extracts another from the upper edge of a warm-looking, knee-high stocking."Evening Kitsuki-san!" She says as she pours the extra candles into his box.

For a moment, she holds the candle out to the air while rummaging in her satchel, then shakes her head with a chuckle and leans over to light hers from the Dragon's candle. Tilting it, she drips a small pool of wax to the stone floor before sticking the base of her candle into the puddle to secure it.

"Find anything interesting, like really good bojutsu techniques, so far?"

The light doubled...which wasn't saying a lot, but still the fire kami were pleased by those sensitive to such things.

He bowed, ever mindful of where the lit candles were. Lighting either of them on fire would be a horror story, but not the kind they were looking for.

"Hmm...I think the secret to mastering Sensei Wu's teachings may, in fact, lay in the quality of your sandals, Soshi-san." he offered.

After all, while the Kitsuki were excellent investigators, it wouldn't do as a Dragon not to throw the occasional bit of cryptic words out occasionally.

[Soshi Naoko]

Naoko shifts to sit with hip to the ground, knees curled to the side, one hand on the floor to brace against. More comfortable than kneeling on the stone, certainly. No sandals here, despite the stone. After all they're still 'indoors' within the monastery.

She levels a long look at the Dragon, weighing sincerity. "Well I doubt I'll do that well then, but...what do sandals have to do with it, Kitsuki-san?"

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

Naoko shifts to sit with hip to the ground, knees curled to the side, one hand on the floor to brace against. More comfortable than kneeling on the stone, certainly. No sandals here, despite the stone. After all they're still 'indoors' within the monastery.

She levels a long look at the Dragon, weighing sincerity. "Well I doubt I'll do that well then, but...what do sandals have to do with it, Kitsuki-san?"

For his part, Kindachi stayed standing, leaning slightly against the wall, as if keeping watch out for those who might be approaching in the darkness.

"Ah, just that Sensei Wu does not strike me as a man who is content with any ceiling but the sky. I believe he and his students will be departing the monastery once they've been identified and learning their lessons upon the road. Well, perhaps not the actual road, but trekking across the Empire on foot. It would probably be easier to absorb his lessons if you're not thinking about the blisters on your feet from poor sandals." he explains.

[Soshi Naoko]

She looks up at him a moment before laughing, giggles high-pitched and a bit unsettling. "Here I thought monks toughened their soles to walk barefoot! Is that related to the question you picked from that odd list to answer? I wonder how long he's been coming up with those...or if he just did them all the night before?"

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

She looks up at him a moment before laughing, giggles high-pitched and a bit unsettling. "Here I thought monks toughened their soles to walk barefoot! Is that related to the question you picked from that odd list to answer? I wonder how long he's been coming up with those...or if he just did them all the night before?"

Kindachi shook his head.

"Ah, no. In truth, I wanted to talk about something related to the sea to honor my namesake ancestor. Thus I started with an answer, then compared it to the list of questions until I found one that somewhat fit." he admitted.

He considered the second question as he watched a drop of wax fall from his candle.

"Hm, I would surmise that they are borne from his long travels. Either as queries to put to unsuspecting travelers to further his understanding of the art of bojutsu, or just random thoughts he had when he was alone."

He shrugged a bit.

"Were the list random and done last night, I would have expected a less coherent theme. Something more along the lines of 'If you balance a tack hammer on your head, will you hit your enemies with a balanced attack?'"

[Soshi Naoko]

"hmm...more like, "how do you hit your enemies with a balanced attack when all you have is a tack hammer and chisel?" She nods, satisfied with the question's form. "Balancing it on your head is the answer."

She looks out into the darkness. "might need to light a few more candles, or the night will be rather short."

[Doji Riri]

It took a while for the overexcited Doji to calm down after the presentation, even after her breathing was back to normal and the pain from working a bit too hard was already somewhat dulled. When she did, though, she remembered something she had heard around the monastery.

Did she remember any ghost stories? She kept drawing a blank... but sure others would have theirs, yeah? Or she could try and...

...thr criticism of some of her sensei resounded in her mind. But she just shook her head and grinned as she made her way to where the meeting would be. They would apparently be snowed in for tonight, and the meeting should make for a fun occasion to meet and get to know some of the others better.

"Kitsuki-san! Scorpion-san", she greeted the two who were talking as she came around, bowing respectfully although her voice carried a lighthearted tone.

[Soshi Naoko]

Naoko's head pops up, the mask's ears perpetually alert, and she scrambles to her feet with a wince for her bruised ribs. She offers a bow and, "Doji-san, right? Saw you doing a decent impression of one of the Sensei's students today...pretty memorable. Grab a candle!" Her own robes sway closer to her candle's flame than is entirely wise.

Settling to her knees beside the candle, which has not set her on fire yet, she stops suddenly, looking up at the Crane. "Oh..sorry...Soshi Naoko. Since I think you were kind of occupied catching your breath by the time I went up."

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

"You see, Soshi-san? Doji-san must have sensed the need for more candle bearers." he offered, with a smile to the Scorpion and a bow to the Doji.

"Good evening, Doji-san, here have a candle." he said, taking one from the box, touching it to his own lit candle and handing it to the Crane.

He glanced towards the shadows. "Perhaps we should start the exchanging of tales. Others may emerge from the shadows, or perhaps not. I am no great story teller, but perhaps I can draw upon what I have studided." he suggests before starting:

PERHAPS there are not many in rokugan who have heard of the 'Yuki Onna'. It is little spoken of except in the higher mountains, which are continually snowclad in the winter. Those who have read Doji Haro'ss books will remember a story of the Yuki Onna, made much of on account of its beautiful telling, but in reality not better than the following.

Up in the northern provinces, snow falls heavily. Sometimes there is as much as twenty feet of it on the ground, and many are the people who have been buried in the snows and never found until the spring. Not many years ago three companies of soldiers, with the exception of three or four men, were destroyed in the mountains; and it was many weeks before they were dug out, dead of course.

Mysterious disappearances naturally give rise to fancies in a fanciful people, and from time immemorial the Snow Ghost has been one with the people of the North; while those of the South say that those of the North take so much saké that they see snow-covered trees as women.

Be that as it may, I must explain what a farmer called Kyuzaemon saw.

In the village of Hoi, which consisted only of eleven houses, very poor ones at that, lived Kyuzaemon. He was poor, and doubly unfortunate in having lost both his son and his wife. He led a lonely life.

One afternoon, a tremendous snowstorm came on. Kyuzaemon closed the shutters, and made himself as comfortable as he could. Towards the hour of the Rat he was awakened by a rapping at his door; it was a peculiar rap, and came at regular intervals. Kyuzaemon sat up in his futon, looked towards the door, and did not know what to think of this. The rapping came again, and with it the gentle voice of a girl. Thinking that it might be one of his neighbor's children wanting help, Kyuzaemon jumped up from his futon; but when he got to the door he feared to open it. Voice and rapping coming again just as he reached it, he sprang back with a cry: 'Who are you? What do you want?'

'Open the door! Open the door!' came the voice from outside.

'Open the door! Is that likely until I know who you are and what you are doing out so late and on such a night?'

'But you must let me in. How can I proceed farther in this deep snow? I do not ask for food, but only for shelter.'

'I am very sorry; but I have no quilts or bedding. I can't possibly let you stay in my house.'

'I don't want quilts or bedding,—only shelter,' pleaded the voice.

'I can't let you in, anyway,' shouted Kyuzaemon. 'It is too late and against the rules and the law.'

Saying which, Kyuzaemon rebarred his door with a strong piece of wood, never once having ventured to open a crack in the shutters to see who his visitor might be. As he turned towards his bed, with a shudder he beheld the figure of a woman standing beside it, clad in white, with her hair down her back. She had not the appearance of a ghost; her face was pretty, and she seemed to be about twenty-five years of age. Kyuzaemon, taken by surprise and very much alarmed, called out:

'Who and what are you, and how did you get in? Where did you leave your geta.'

'I can come in anywhere when I choose,' said the figure, 'and I am the woman you would not let in. I require no geta; for I whirl along over the snow, sometimes even flying through the air. I am on my way to visit the next village; but the wind is against me. That is why I wanted you to let me rest here. If you will do so I shall start as soon as the wind goes down; in any case I shall be gone by the morning.'

'I should not so much mind letting you rest if you were an ordinary woman. I should, in fact, be glad; but I fear spirits greatly, as my forefathers have done,' said Kyuzaemon.

'Be not afraid. You have a family shrine said the figure.

'Yes: I have a family shrine,' said Kyuzaemon; 'but what can you want to do with that?'

'You say you are afraid of the spirits, of the effect that I may have upon you. I wish to pay my respects to your ancestors' tablets and assure their spirits that no ill shall befall you through me. Will you light some incense?'

'Yes,' said Kyuzaemon, with fear and trembling: 'I will light the incense. Please pray for me as well, for I am an unfortunate and unlucky man; but you must tell me in return who and what spirit you are.'

'You want to know much; but I will tell you,' said the spirit. 'I believe you are a good man. My name was Oyasu. I am the daughter of Yazaemon, who lives in the next village. My father, as perhaps you may have heard, is a farmer, and he adopted into his family, and as a husband for his daughter, Isaburo. Isaburo is a good man; but on the death of his wife, last year, he forsook his father-in—law and went back to his old home. It is principally for that reason that I am about to seek and remonstrate with him now.'

'Am I to understand,' said Kyuzaemon, 'that the daughter who was married to Isaburo was the one who perished in the snow last year? If so, you must be the spirit of Oyasu or Isaburo's wife?'

'Yes: that is right,' said the spirit. 'I was Oyasu, the wife of Isaburo, who perished now a year ago in the great snowstorm, of which to-morrow will be the anniversary.'

Kyuzaemon, with trembling hands, lit the incense, mumbling his prayers with a fervor which he had never felt before. When this was done he saw the figure of the Yuki Onna advance; but there was no sound of footsteps as she glided to the shrine.

Kyuzaemon retired to his futon, where he promptly fell asleep; but shortly afterwards he was disturbed by the voice of the woman bidding him farewell. Before he had time to sit up she disappeared, leaving no sign; the incense still burning.

Kyuzaemon got up at daybreak, and went to the next village to see Isaburo, whom he found living with his father-in-law, Yazaemon.

'Yes,' said Isaburo: 'it was wrong of me to leave my late wife's father when she died, and I am not surprised that on cold nights when it snows I have been visited continually by my wife's spirit as a reproof. Early this morning I saw her again, and I resolved to return. I have only been here two hours as it is.'

On comparing notes Kyuzaemon and Isaburo found that directly the spirit of Oyasu had left the house of Kyuzaemon she appeared to Isaburo, at about half-an-hour after the Hour of the Rat, and stayed with him until he had promised to return to her father's house and help him to live in his old age.

That is roughly my story of the Yuki Onna. All those who die by the snow and cold become spirits of snow, appearing when there is snow; just as the spirits of those who are drowned in the sea only appear in stormy seas.

Even to the present day, in the north, priests say prayers to appease the spirits of those who have died by snow, and to prevent them from haunting people who are connected with them."

He bowed again as he had completed the tale.

[Soshi Naoko]

"I see we're starting with the children's version," Naoko says with a good-humored grin. "A frightening start to catch the attention, useful information, filial piety, and a pleasant ending."

She thinks a moment. "I suppose a bit of a moral makes sense for tales in a monastery."

"So...there was a young man whose name doesn't matter for the moral so we won't worry about making one up. The important part is that he found a crane, wounded by hunters, and instead of counting the good fortune of a free meal, he felt pity for the bird and nursed it back to health. The fishing must have been exceptional that year to pass up such an opportunity and feed a convalescent besides, no?"

The young Soshi's cadence was well-designed to draw in a listener, but then it was no surprise that she could hold an audience after seeing her presentation earlier in the day.

"Well the crane got better, or the tale would be shorter, and flew off one day. A few days later, there was a new girl in town with a peasants clothing but a noblewoman's pale skin, shining black hair, and clever enough in conversation that it wasn't until a good while after a chat that one might realize she'd never really answered anything about where she'd come from or where she was living." Naoko shakes her head. "In the mountains, folks are more suspicious, but I think the living at the coasts must be easier for everyone to just shrug and think mysterious, beautiful women were nothing to be cautious of."

"But...back to our young man, who has been as enthralled as any by this woman. And as in so many tales, of course they fall in love, and they are married, and at least the answer of where she is staying is answered. By and by they have twins, and a suspicious litter of eggshells in the birthing room where his young bride labored alone, for she refused to have anyone in the room." Naoko taps her nose knowingly.

"Very charming, right? Surely...nothing. could. go. wrong..."

"By and by the ocean is not as friendly. I guess even the fish crop fails sometimes, somehow. I know nothing of the ocean, so I just tell this as it was told to me. And this woman closes herself away in a room again--a peasant's hut with many rooms? Just accept that it's so, perhaps they build more grand by the sea."

"So she comes out with a good length of fine silk brocade and bids her husband sell it and buy food for them all. He's amazed surely and asks if she'll make more. Well, if he will promise never ever to look at her as she weaves, she supposes she can. And of course he promises! Silk is going to keep them fed better than fishing, for sure!"

A sigh straightens Naoko's shoulders. "But, but, but... there are no mulberry trees, no silkworms, no...loom? This young fisherman has _questions_. But he promised, and so he sees the lanternlight night after night from the door and sells length after length of shimmering silk. He still fishes...he's not lazy, you know? Their fortunes improve steadily, and their children...two more come along by and by...are happy and well-fed. But that light...under the door."

"Weeeelllll," Her hands lift, palms up, into the air, "You all know how this goes. One night, the door is open...just a crack. The light spilling out into the hut all golden with the shadows of movement fluttering along the floor, and it's just. too. much. He creeps along the wall and just peeks one eye into the room...surely one can't hurt! It's not really looking if you lack depth perception!" Her hands move enough for a slight breeze of her sleeves to flutter the candle to mimic the tales' shadows.

"And there, of course, is the crane he saved, and a loom made only of spirit-stuff. She would pluck a feather from her wings and feed it into the loom, whisper-quiet and the brocade spooled out as she went feather by feather until her wings were nearly bare, all pinpricked with blood where they'd been pulled." She pauses a moment to let that image linger.

"Surely he gasped at the sight, and that's what caught her attention. That elegant, long-beaked head reared back with a sharp hiss, like an angry goose that's gotten all courtly and now knows how to slice ribbons out of you with just that hiss. But she didn't leave it at that, and darted forward, quick as you please to poke out that eye peeking through the door." Naoko's hand flew to cover one eyehole of the mask, her head flung back in mimic to the pain that faithless fisherman must have felt."

"Without another human word, she made a high crane call that drew the children from their bed in an instant. Throwing the newmade brocade around herself as a shawl, she gathered them all in, like a hen with chicks, and in an instant it was one big crane and four little ones that all flew from the hut to never return, leaving the fellow everyone just knew as One-eye Koji to fish and survive in his empty house for the rest of his days."

Sitting back, Naoko grins. "There...a moral with a little more blood."

[Doji Riri]

Naoko's head pops up, the mask's ears perpetually alert, and she scrambles to her feet with a wince for her bruised ribs. She offers a bow and, "Doji-san, right? Saw you doing a decent impression of one of the Sensei's students today...pretty memorable. Grab a candle!" Her own robes sway closer to her candle's flame than is entirely wise.

Settling to her knees beside the candle, which has not set her on fire yet, she stops suddenly, looking up at the Crane. "Oh..sorry...Soshi Naoko. Since I think you were kind of occupied catching your breath by the time I went up."

A soft smile kept on the girl's lips after receiving the compliment, although some creases around her eyes seemed to show some uncertainty about it. She wouldn't want to interrupt with an answer, though, so she moved to take a candle from Kindaichi and sat down to hear their stories.

She hears the first one nodding, widening her eyes and gasping at appropriate points.

Then the second one.

And the second one gets even more of her attention... for a few reasons.

In the end she nods again, seemingly thoughtful, her fingers drumming energically on her legs.

"Hm! Those are quite interesting stories, Kitsuki-san, Soshi-san! The Yuki no Onna I think I've heard mentioned once or twice. But the Crane lady... is it a family story, Soshi-san?", she asks, her head slightly tilted as her eyes set on the Scorpion's.

"I almost feel there's more than one moral there! Or... lesson? Message? Hm!..."

The drumming kept going.

(OOC: Sorry, took me some time to properly read the stories!)

[Soshi Naoko]

With only a few candles for light, everyone is a bit indistinct, a bit other, but the Soshi's mask definitely highlights the effect, eyes occasionally reflecting flame from within the dark eyes. She considers a moment before answering Riri's questions.

"The story of the crane-wife I've heard with a heron before, and even egret, but crane spirits are more elegant as humans, honestly. Your lady Doji-kami chose them as an emblem for a reason. Swan-wives are just all muscle. Nobody would think of breaking a promise to them because they'd expect to get tied in a knot and hung off the eaves as a warning." She pauses, lips pursed a bit..."ah, but maybe I should've gone with an egret with a crane in the audience. Maybe that's a bit of blunder in a court, though we're in a cavern instead, but...well. Apologies if it was a poor choice."

"I guess it can have more than one moral. Kindness begetting fortune and breaking promises ruining that fortune and all." She nods toward Kindaichi, "Hadn't heard that version of the snow maiden's tale before, just the ones about women fleeing to the snow and finding themselves changed, or others finding themselves the victims of one."

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

Kindachi nods in the faint candle light.

"Hmm, I find Soshi-san's initial assessment of my story to be quite fair. Apologies that it was not up to the same level of quality as Soshi-san's. I'm really more of a reader, than a storyteller. While I've read the crane wife before, the myriad of little flourishes Soshi-san added to the telling made it fascinating to hear all over again....though I will admit, now I want to hear a version with a swan-wife where the well muscled maiden ties the poor husband to the rafters for his indiscretion." he admitted honestly.

He looked over to the Crane maiden in their midst.

"I believe we have time for one more story before we really should turn in for the night, Doji-san." he suggested.

[Doji Riri]

With only a few candles for light, everyone is a bit indistinct, a bit other, but the Soshi's mask definitely highlights the effect, eyes occasionally reflecting flame from within the dark eyes. She considers a moment before answering Riri's questions.

"The story of the crane-wife I've heard with a heron before, and even egret, but crane spirits are more elegant as humans, honestly. Your lady Doji-kami chose them as an emblem for a reason. Swan-wives are just all muscle. Nobody would think of breaking a promise to them because they'd expect to get tied in a knot and hung off the eaves as a warning." She pauses, lips pursed a bit..."ah, but maybe I should've gone with an egret with a crane in the audience. Maybe that's a bit of blunder in a court, though we're in a cavern instead, but...well. Apologies if it was a poor choice."

"I guess it can have more than one moral. Kindness begetting fortune and breaking promises ruining that fortune and all." She nods toward Kindaichi, "Hadn't heard that version of the snow maiden's tale before, just the ones about women fleeing to the snow and finding themselves changed, or others finding themselves the victims of one."

"Oh, not a poor choice at all, Soshi-san!", the Doji answered with a friendly smile, fingers still drumming, a different song, or rhythm, or whatever it was this time. "Fortune in kindness, ruin in betraying one's trust? Hardly hurtful lessons to put in one's mouth, ne?" A nod, the smile still there. "One reason I asked if this was a family tale. I guess I'll ask my friend Shosuro-san about it when I get back home, though, she might have heard other versions!"

(...)
"I believe we have time for one more story before we really should turn in for the night, Doji-san." he suggested.

"I do want to hear a version with a swan now as well! Although... they can be similar at times, especially at a distance", she comments more quietly, eyes down for a moment "Who knows..." The candle is then brought to the front, suddenly illuminating her face fully. " Some Cranes could turn out to be Swans!"

A grin and a half-hidden laugh, then she brings the candle down again.

"Um. I'm not particularly good with remembering stories, I think... but since Kitsuki-san said, let me try.

It is said that, on a peaceful riverside village not far from a temple to Benten, a monk and a famous military strategist spent months, then years, the important samurai coming and going, thankfully free of the burden of real war. The village was a place of repose he could come back to, and a place of reflection for the monk, and together, in the deep connection they built, they could find rest and contemplate even more than they could each on their own.

One day, however, the samurai told the monk he would have to return home and spend a longer time there. The monk waited for him, first for weeks, then months, then a year, then seven years and seven days.

The next day, the sun rose, travelled along the sky shining down on fruit-laden trees and falling leaves, and set, and again there was no sign of the monk's cherished companion. As the monk walked through the now dark riverside, however, he heard a familiar voice.

"Dear friend and companion!", the voice greeted him, first disembodied, from above the river, then finding the shape of the samurai, if not the substance or the age he should have had. "I am so sorry I took so long."

The samurai's voice then told the monk the reason for his long absence - a cousin who had long been envious of his achievements had heard of his joy and closeness with the monk, and unable to accept both glory and happiness that he didn't have, threatened to destroy his reputation.

The monk was understanding, but visibly sad. "You chose glory and your family's honour, of course."

"I chose the truth. And if my cousin couldn't accept glory and happiness, much less could he accept that. He had me arrested... and my heart could not bear as much as my honour. Eventually I did what I could to find my way here"

The monk held back as a river inside him threatened to overflow, his hands gently touching the spirit samurai's, letting the shifting waters nurture his soul. The monk and the spirit spent the night talking and reminiscing on their many lessons and many days together, and when the sun rose again, where the spirit was, the monk saw a road.

The samurai's cousin went missing one week after that, and he was found for the next seven weeks and seven days.

One piece at a time.

The monk was never seen again, his name and that of the samurai forgotten - although a cherry tree in front of a shrine to Benten by the River of the Blind Monk is said to have been grown in their honour."

[Soshi Naoko]

As the Crane told her tale, another set of eyes reflected candlelight from the darkness, low to the ground and flickering with the wavering firelight. They approach steadily, resolving into the form of a rather large and floofy cat who settled well away from all the flames to watch this last tale.

Naoko is still as the tale progresses, jaw tight in what might be anger, but is hard to read when her mask hides the rest of the expression. The final sentences though, bring out a fierce grin. "Weeks instead of years are wise with finite lives. No reason to waste years tending to someone just so you can take them apart that slow. I appreciate the monk's pragmatism in making his point." It's certainly not the most polite detail of the tale to discuss, but there's an easy sincerity and vicious approval to the Scorpion's words.

"The darkest of tonight's tales, Doji-san...if we were making awards for it."

[Kitsuki Kindaichi]

The Kitsuki was fairly still as the Doji told her tale of terror. He had no physical mask to hind behind, but the dark and his On was fairly hard to interpret.

"Hm. Well." he says.

He looked to the cat, then back to the Crane.

"The darkest, most certainly, for many reasons." he agreed with the Scorpion.

He shook his head.

"Ah, my apologies, Doji-san. I suppose it is as Mother Tokiko says, I cannot put aside my training to live in the now. It's a well told story, filled with emotion.....but I'm more interested in the details that are not relevant to the story. What sort of charges was the man falsely arrested on? Who sullied their honor to make the charges stick? How did a blind monk dismember a healthy and important samurai? Such questions distract me from your skill as a storyteller."

[Doji Riri]

"Weeks instead of years are wise with finite lives. No reason to waste years tending to someone just so you can take them apart that slow. I appreciate the monk's pragmatism in making his point.

"The darkest of tonight's tales, Doji-san...if we were making awards for it."

The Crane's cheerful smile is a comic contrast to the mood of the tale, not that she seems to notice.

"Well, the story never says it was the monk's doing! Not in this version, anyway", she says. "One could put it down to Karma, I suppose", she adds, thoughtful.

"Ah, my apologies, Doji-san. I suppose it is as Mother Tokiko says, I cannot put aside my training to live in the now. It's a well told story, filled with emotion.....but I'm more interested in the details that are not relevant to the story. What sort of charges was the man falsely arrested on? Who sullied their honor to make the charges stick? How did a blind monk dismember a healthy and important samurai? Such questions distract me from your skill as a storyteller."

The Kitsuki's questions make her face twist further into thoughtfulness, her hand even touching her chin.

"Hm! I suppose I never stopped to think about most of that, Kitsuki-san! I would suppose the one who sullied the man's honour would be the cousin himself? Or important acquaintances. You know, the kind of tale about less than candid diplomacy and bureaucracy?"

The thoughtful face then turns into a soft laugh. "Oh, but the monk? I don't think he was blind himself! The tale of the Blind Monk is tied to a river close to home, it's just the retellings of this story I've heard place the village near the riverside as well!"

She then suddenly furrows her brown. "Although... now you make me wonder. Could the Blind Monk from the river be the same person? The samurai's spirit do show up above the river in this retelling... Hm!"