Gyakkyou - Chapter One: Naivety (Patreon)

Two years later.

“Wake up, beanpole.”

Gyakkyou blinked away the haze in his vision, his breath still heavy with sleep. The morning light filtered through the pall walls of his thatched home, creating a soft glow that danced across the room. The light cast a shadow over his face, a tall, looming silhouette that made him scowl even before his eyes fully focused.

Only one person could stand over him like that and ruin his peace before the day even started.

“Get off me, Whiskers,” Gyakkyou grumbled, his voice raspy with sleep. His scowl deepened as Ishimaru’s face came into view, the older boy’s familiar, whiskered grin already spreading across his features.

Ishimaru’s eyes narrowed, a glint of mischief dancing in their depths. “What did you call me?” he asked, his tone dropping to that dangerous low that meant trouble was brewing. It was a voice Gyakkyou knew all too well, but he was undeterred by the implied threat

Raising his chin defiantly, Gyakkyou prepared to repeat the nickname that so often got him into trouble. “Whisk—gah! Stop!” The words dissolved into a high-pitched yelp as Ishimaru’s fingers found their mark, tickling mercilessly at his sides.

Gyakkyou scrambled away, his laughter echoing through the small room as he fought to escape. “Growing bold, are we?” Ishimaru taunted as he lunged after the younger boy. “This will teach you to disrespect your elders!”

Gyakkyou darted around the room, laughing and dodging, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ishimaru as possible. Just as he was about to make a dash for the door, he spotted Takumi, the eldest of the trio, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“You two cannot go a day without making a fuzz, can you?” Takumi asked, his face a mask of exasperation. Gyakkyou ignored the scolding as he darted behind the older boy; a futile attempt given Gyakkyou was a mere head shorter than his supposed saviour despite being nine years the junior. 

“Maru started it!” Gyakkyou accused, peeking around Takumi’s broad shoulders. 

“No, I didn’t!” Ishimaru shot back

Takumi merely shook his head, already done with their antics for the morning. He turned to leave the room, his voice calm but commanding. “Gyakkyou, dress up and meet us outside. Breakfast is ready.”

With the sanctity of the room restored in Ishimaru’s absence, Gyakkyou could finally turn his attention to his appearance. The garment he chose to wear that morning was the same one he wore yesterday; a rough cotton kimono. Though plain, the dress bore the faint stains of earth and the scent of pine.

Gyakkyou emerged from the room he shared with Ishimaru to the smell of steaming rice and miso soup. As he approached the shokudō where breakfast was being hosted, he saw their grandmother, her frail hands moving deftly despite her age, as she poured tea into small, earthen cups. Her back was slightly hunched, but her eyes—sharp and knowing—caught Gyakkyou’s as he entered the room. A gentle smile creased her weathered face, and she motioned for him to sit beside her.

“Come, Gyakkyou,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “We mustn’t let the food grow cold.”

Gyakkyou nodded, his usual energy tempered in the presence of the elderly woman. He settled on a woven mat, tucking his legs neatly beneath him as he accepted the bowl she handed him. Across the table, Takumi sat with his pregnant wife, Sakura, their heads bowed in a quick prayer of thanks.

Ishimaru, on the other hand, was already halfway through his meal, shovelling rice into his mouth with a speed that made Gyakkyou stifle a laugh. The glutton caught his eye, narrowing his gaze as if daring Gyakkyou to express disapproval. Knowing it would be futile, Gyakkyou simply ignored him, offered his own prayers, and then turned his attention to his meal.

They ate in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the gentle clatter of chopsticks against bowls and the occasional slurp of soup. When they finished, the boys went together to the shrine by the entrance, offering rice and salt to the kami of the forest before setting out with bows and quivers slung over their shoulders, bamboo spears in hand, and large knives tucked into their belts.

Outside, the village was beginning to stir. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from the rooftops as fires were lit, and in the peaks above, the first call of the mountain birds echoed. The streets were still barren as only a few had emerged from their huts.

Snapping back to the present, Gyakkyou hurried after his brothers as he fastened the strap of his quiver, which hung awkwardly from his slender frame. On his left shoulder was a short bow, one Takumi had fashioned for him from the wood of a sakaki tree merely a year ago.

The trio set off on a winding path that led them into the dense woods that bordered the village. The great mountains loomed above them, their peaks shrouded in mist. Today, like many days before, Gyakkyou would learn from his brothers by watching, by doing.

They reached a small clearing where the forest floor was thick with moss. Gyakkyou knelt, examining tracks left by a deer that had passed through not long before whilst his brothers looked on. Alas, they were not hunting docile game today. Tomorrow would be Ishimaru’s fifteenth nameday, meaning a coming of age celebration would held by the village to congratulate him. And as tradition would have it, for a boy to transition into manhood he must be fed a serving of Kuma no kotsudama—stewed bear testicles. 

Normally, Ishimaru’s father would have been present to supervise the hunt as was tradition. But given they were all orphans they had to make do with Takuma’s supervision alone. Thankfully, their older brother was rather competent. 

As the morning wore on, the sun climbed higher, and the mist began to lift from the mountains, revealing the rugged beauty of the peaks. They searched for hours, until finally, they caught sight of it—a lone boar, its coat a rich brown, its shoulders stocky like the limbs of a tree.

The beast could likely kill a man with a single swing of its massive paws. 

Takuma motioned for Ishimaru to ready his bow whilst Gyakkyou watched silently. The boy’s hands shook slightly as he nocked an arrow, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He drew the bowstring back, just as their older brother had taught them, focusing on the bear, feeling the tension in his muscles, the stillness in the air.

“Breathe,” Gyakkyou whispered from behind.

Ishimaru exhaled slowly and released the arrow. It flew true, striking the boar cleanly through the eye. The animal stumbled, then fell, its life ebbing away as the forest returned to its quiet hum. For all his faults, the glutton had always been the best shot of them all. None in the village could even come close to rivalling him

“You have done well, Ishimaru,” Takuma commended, his pride glaringly obvious. “Today, you have proven yourself a man.”

Gyakkyou giggled as he smacked the blushing fool in the back of the head. A mistake perhaps given how quickly Ishimaru’s embarrassment turned into ire. 

Regardless, today was a wonderful day and nothing could ever possibly change that.

***

The screams were horrid.

“Gyakkyou. Ishimaru. Both of you, stay here,” Takuma ordered even as he never took his eyes off the carnage unfolding in their home below. Gyakkyou turned wet, confused eyes to his older brother.

Why was the village on fire? Why were there strange men chasing people through the streets? No one seemed to have the answers to Gyakkyou’s questions. It frightened him terribly.

“I am coming with you,” Ishimaru hissed, nocking an arrow as he made to race down the mountain towards the village. Takuma however preempted him, blocking his path. 

“No!” the oldest said. “I cannot let you throw your life away like this.” 

“Why can you and not me?” Ishimaru snarled in response. Tears were now streaming down his face. Fear. Anger. Rage.

“You are too young, Maru! Let me go get Baa-chan and Sakura. I will be back as soon as I can. You watch over our brother.”

“I am going with you!”

“No, you are too—”

“You said it yourself! I am a man now! Look!” Ishimaru took the raw testicles from his pouch and stuffed them in his mouth, swallowing in a single gulp. “See! Now, let me pass!”

“I cannot—”

“Please!” Ishimaru was sobbing now. The two stared at each other for a long moment before Takuma gave a small, pained nod. 

“Fine!” he said before turning his unrelenting gaze to Gyakkyou. “Stay here! Don’t you dare move! We will be back soon.”

Gyakkyou waited. And waited. And waited. Until the sun rose and began to set again. He never moved from his post lest he drew Takuma’s ire. 

Alas, it seemed all for nought.

His brothers never returned.