Ningyô – Chapter Four

The Princes’ Sanctuary

 

It was the sort of house that brought the words “quaint” and “charming” to the lips of those who set their eyes upon it.

            It was certainly traditional, right up to the little teahouse in the middle of the pretty little garden that was planted over with sweetly fragrant old-fashioned roses by the wife of a former occupant.  Wood and paper shoji panels, a little rack for shoes by the front door, a small pond filled with healthy koi – the red or gold-mottled carp that bespoke good fortune – with lily pads floating on top.  It looked so old-fashioned, that an observer half-expected to see a gentle-faced lady in a pretty kimono sweeping out the front yard or a Shinto monk sitting cross-legged on the floor of the elevated porch in silent meditation.  It seemed a typical retreat in the woods.  Until, of course, they figured out that it was right in the middle of the grounds of the Imperial Palace.

            The house was set in the middle of the Fukiage Niwa – the Fukiage Garden.  It had once been as neatly manicured in the shibui – astringent beauty – manner with which the rest of the Palace gardens were maintained.  The Emperor Akihito had commanded his gardeners to let it run riot as a sort of plant and bird sanctuary.  In the first decade of Akihito’s reign, the garden turned into the deep woods of the Palace grounds, a forest where dandelions and Queen Anne’s lace grew on the floor together with the moss while the oaks, pines, birches, cryptomeria, and maples were never pruned and were allowed to grow the way nature meant them to.  The apple, cherry, and plum trees that were once grown only for their blossoms became heavy every harvest season with fruits sweeter and more nourishing than those cultivated for the Imperial table at heavily guarded orchards.  Birds made their nests up in the trees without fear of being hunted and fish thrived in the brooks and rills scattered about the green wood.  In the days when the world was still in danger of being ruined because of the environmental crisis, it became a haven for those who loved nature.  When the world came out of danger, replenished by a global program to clean it up that spanned an entire century, the Fukiage was all but abandoned as Japan’s cities became filled with lush greenery.  This, of course, led to the garden’s becoming another kind of sanctuary: a human one.

           

When the Emperor Osamu had been Crown Prince, he’d been appalled by the almost absolute power the Diet had wielded over Japan and most of Asia and was deeply saddened by the shameful way they were treating his father, Emperor Yukio. 

Being at court depressed him to no end, particularly when he married a foreign woman and was pressured in no uncertain terms by the ministers of the Diet to divorce her since it would mean the tainting of the Yamato bloodline.  As a result, Osamu had a house built in the heart of the Fukiage where he could live a normal life, raise his family properly, and where he and his most trusted advisors could meet about what to do with the corruption that had so nearly led to the nation’s socio-economic downfall.

            Over the passage of time, succeeding generations of Crown Princes occupied the house that had, by the time of Emperor Junichi’s grandfather Emperor Isao, begun to be called the Princes’ Sanctuary.  Emperor Shôtaro had been born there.  The same thing happened with his son, Emperor Isao, and his grandson, Emperor Shûji. 

The last one was one of only two Emperors who had more than one child.  Shûji and his wife, Nagisa, brought up four children - Junichi, Fujiko, Haruko, and Satsuki – before ascending to the throne.  The girls all married foreigners and made their homes abroad.  Junichi married his ningyô and settled comfortably in the Princes’ Sanctuary with their children Kunihiko and Rei.

            Junichi had been an architect before his coronation and probably lived the most normal life of all who had occupied the little house in the woods.  It was in his guise as Junichi Yamato that he had been able to go out and mingle with his people, keeping his eyes and ears open for their problems in order to find ways to help them.  Naoko, herself trained in architecture, had been his partner in the business.  On the outside, they were just another couple working to feed their family – even if there wasn’t really any need to work! – and send their kids to school.

            To Kunihiko, the Princes’ Sanctuary was his real home.  After all, hadn’t he been born there?  When he turned 18, he asked his father if he could have the house in the woods.  At the time, he’d just graduated from animation school and had begun to make a name for himself as a mangaka.  His fans were growing in numbers and many had begun to stalk the fresh-faced youth who now began to fear for his safety and privacy.  Besides, he had told his father, that the Palace was not very conducive to being creative.

            Unfortunately, the Princes’ Sanctuary wasn’t as homey as it would’ve been if a woman’s hand were there to manage things.  The slender prince was no housekeeper and an even worse cook – even the kitten his best friend Mamoru Fujiwara had given him wouldn’t eat anything that came out of his kitchen!  Invariably, the poor creature went off to hunt the small rodents that infested the forest floor: rabbits, dormice, and the like.  He did so behind Kunihiko’s back, though; Kunihiko began muttering curses underbreath whenever Odin – for that was the cat’s name – came into the house with fresh kill.

            That was until Murasaki came home. 

 

Immediately after her investiture, the sixteen-year-old ningyô moved into the Princes’ Sanctuary to keep a keen eye on her master whose life was in more danger than he was aware of.

            Sora Ang had a lot to say about that: something about the impiety of cohabitation with someone you weren’t married to.  (Maruka lived in a separate apartment from that of her master’s family.)  But that was how Sora was: all talk and no action.

            Kunihiko himself had balked at having such a beauty at close quarters 24-7-365.  He feared that the temptation would be too great.  Murasaki, however, simply looked him straight in the eye and said, “Choose: live with me or leave your ass unprotected.  There’s a whole army of chumps after you, y’know.”  Then again, Kunihiko thought having her around wouldn’t be so bad after all.

           

“Good morning, master.” 

It was a couple of weeks since the investiture ceremony.  Murasaki had settled in most comfortably and the Princes’ Sanctuary had been redecorated in a more up-to-date manner.  The kitchen had also become redolent with scents that reminded the Crown Prince of how it smelled like cookies and cake when he was much younger.  Right now, there was the smell of fresh buttermilk pancakes coming from the kitchen mixed with that of crisp bacon and tea just freshly brewed. 

“Best that you get out of bed now lest your breakfast gets cold”, she said cheerfully as she slid the windows open.

            Alas, the blanket-covered lump in the middle of the bed did not stir.  With a sigh, Murasaki entered the room and shook him by the shoulders.

            “Your Highness”, she pleaded.  “Please get up.”

            But he did not stir all the same.  Finally, after about five minutes of coaxing and cajoling and getting Odin and Freya to tickle his feet with their furry tails, Murasaki got fed up and drew something out of her childhood: the tone and manner she’d heard her own mother and the Empress use so often in the morning:

            “Kunihiko, if you don’t get out of bed this instant, I’LL BEAT THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF YOU!!!  With that, she pulled off the blanket, exposing her pink-pajama-clad master to the chill autumn morning air.

            “Eeeek!”  The Crown Prince promptly sat up, shivering from the sudden blast of cold.  “What the hell was that for, Murasaki!”, he exclaimed in protest.

            “It’s six-thirty in the morning, master”, Murasaki told him primly after checking her watch.  “You have your usual morning audience with your father at seven-thirty before getting to the office at eight-thirty.  At nine sharp, you’re meeting with the guy from the New York office.  Ten, we’ll be previewing the next six episodes of Silence is the Name of the Game.  You’re having lunch with your parents and the members of the Imperial Advisory Council at noon.  Up to five-thirty, you have to meet with the brainstorming team about the new series we’re doing for spring 2137.”  She tossed him his towel and bathrobe.  “I’ve drawn your bath; get to it before it gets too cold.  Now: scoot.”

            Kunihiko frowned as he got out of bed.  His ningyô could be so heartless at times, a woman with the soul of a Marine boot camp drill sergeant.  When he just stood there without picking up either towel or bathrobe, she threw him a withering glance that would’ve reduced a lesser man to a puddle of melted butter.

            “Don’t just stand there, Kuni-sama!”  With her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes dangerously.  “Did you honestly think I’d bathe you myself?”

            “Maybe…”  Slyly, Kunihiko planted a quick kiss on her cheek as he passed her.  Murasaki glowered as she watched his retreating back, but the blush that was streaking across her face spoke volumes.

            “Meow…”  Freya looked up at her mistress inquiringly with a soft meow, obviously asking to be rubbed.

            “He’s a playful sort”, Murasaki murmured, her face finally softening into a gentle smile as she stroked her cat’s furry back.  “But that’s why I fell for him.”

            Odin hopped off the bed and rubbed against her ankles, purring very loudly as he did.  “He’s a lucky guy”, he said in plain human speech with a lazy-sounding feline drawl.  “I guess I’m lucky, too.  At least I’m not going hungry anymore.”

            Murasaki did not seem the least bit surprised at hearing the cat talk.  Freya spoke, too.  Both cats were products of her father’s espionage equipment development facility back home in Nara.  They were called surveillance cats: genetically engineered felines who were fitted with the highest possible form of artificial intelligence in the womb as well as microscopic observation and recording implants.  They were created to provide round-the-clock non-intrusive roving security for the Imperial Family.  Since their intellectual capacity was practically human, these cats also became companions, even confidantes.  There were currently nine active surveillance cats and new ones being born and trained every year.  There were also two that lived with the Emperor and Empress – Zeus and Hera, the latter of whom had been Naoko’s little surveillance cat.  The current active cats were Kunihiko’s Odin, Murasaki’s Freya, Rei’s Idun, Midori’s Frigga (Freya’s twin), Maria’s Thor, Aoi’s Baldur, Yoshiyuki’s personal pet Ymir and his mate Mimir, and Maruka’s Loki.  The last one was a kitty that deserved a better mistress because Maruka’s master did not like cats very much and was very cruel to the little creature.  Alas, Maruka followed his example and treated her feline companion harshly.

            “I’ll bet you’re hungry”, Murasaki grinned at Odin.  “I suppose you two will want pancakes?”

            “I’ll pass on the pancakes”, Odin mewed.  “But bacon would be very nice.”

            “And cheese”, Freya purred.  “Big chunks of cheese!”

            “No problem.”  Murasaki picked her up and left the room with Odin scampering at her heels.  “Come along, Odin.”

            “By the way”, Freya added as they went down the hall.  “I picked up something in the southern quadrant of our jurisdiction last night while I was on prowl.  It isn’t an animal; I’d have known if it was.”

            “And there was something in the western quadrant, as well”, Odin was quick to say.  “There are prowlers the Palace guards failed to see.”

            The news bothered Murasaki.  Other than the contingent of Palace guards set to secure the perimeter of the Fukiage Garden, there were at least 100 booby traps set around the Princes’ Sanctuary.  Empress Naoko had planted 50 there when she was younger; the other 50 were of Murasaki’s installation.  How could a prowler – two prowlers, as a matter of fact – have gotten past all that?

            “Are you two very hungry?”, she asked the cats.

            “Not really”, Freya replied and Odin meowed in assent.  “Why?”

            “Let’s head for the lab first before breakfast.”  Best to get this over and done with! Murasaki thought worriedly.  I wouldn’t want the master to worry; this is his home!  He feels safest here, yet…  “I’d like to check out what you guys saw last night.”

 

“Ohayo, Fujiwara-sama”, the digital avatar greeted Murasaki as she entered her command center in a large room of the Princes’ Sanctuary.

            DNA sensors activated the system in her personal workplace, an elaborate technological set-up done by her eldest brother Mamoru who was a whiz at such things.  The heat sensors were built in such a way that they only responded to four specific individuals – Kunihiko, Murasaki, and the two cats - unless they manually deactivated the system to allow guests in.  Anyone else would be electrocuted to unconsciousness and an alarm would be activated in the Palace proper. 

The lab was in the same room that Empress Naoko had used when she was still an ordinary ningyô.  The Empress had been suitably impressed when Murasaki toured her around the lab and was more than satisfied.  Nothing would get past Murasaki in there.

            “Ohayo, DG-Hina”, Murasaki acknowledged the holographic avatar who looked just like her.  She set each cat into a small cushioned console and switched on the viewer.  She set a small helmet-like device on Odin’s head.  “Let’s run the monitor through Odin first.”

            “Wakarimashita, Fujiwara-sama.”  The viewer shimmered on.  The cat had an infrared view option implant he used to scan through the darkness.  There was nothing suspicious in the northern quadrant of the Fukiage.  “North Quadrant clear.”  However, there was a person groping through the darkness in the western quadrant.  At least he was groping until he activated one of the booby traps and was skewered by bamboo stakes onto a huge oak trunk. 

“Intruder located within West Quadrant jurisdiction; zooming in.” 

Murasaki grimly noted that the prowler was wearing the same black Saracen-like garment worn by the would-be-abductors at Narita.

            “At least that’s one less anti-Yamato groupie to worry about”, she muttered fiercely.   

            “The poor sucker never even got a chance to cry out”, Odin agreed as Murasaki removed the helmet-scanner.

            “More’s the pity, then.”  Murasaki set the scanner onto Freya’s head.  “Okay, Freya: your turn.  DG-Hina, begin retrieval.”

          “Wakarimashita.” 

Freya’s nocturnal run through the eastern quadrant was unremarkable though the cat did pause to snack on a couple of lizards that were in her way.

            “Hey!”, Odin protested upon seeing that.  “No fair!”

            “You were too far for me to call”, Freya purred.

            Then, she focused on something up in a tree – someone, rather. 

“Intruder located within South Quadrant jurisdiction; zooming in”, DG-Hina announced. 

Whoever it was, he tried to lean across the branch he’d been sitting on.  With a loud crack, the branch broke and the prowler fell.  He moaned in agony; something about being unable to get out from where he was.  Murasaki figured that he’d fallen into one of the ditches she’d dug around the Princes’ Sanctuary to keep people out.  It was a quarter to seven and the Palace guards would be inspecting the grounds now.  They were bound to come across him.

            “You set good traps”, Freya complimented her mistress as she and Odin were released from their consoles.

            “Thank you.”  But Murasaki, not one to rest on her laurels, did not smile.  “Quit Feline Surveillance Retrieval, DG-Hina”, she commanded the avatar.  

            “Quitting FSR System”, the avatar intoned as the image flickered out.  “Done.”

            Murasaki looked over her desk, a flat-surfaced high-resolution affair covered with touch-sensitive iconics.  The call signal began to blink in one corner of the screen: she had an incoming video call from her chief secretary in Nara.  Lightly, Murasaki thumbed the icon and the viewscreen showing the cheerful face of Ayame Himura came on.

            “Ohayo, Murasaki-sama”, Ayame greeted her with a polite nod.

            “Ayame”, Murasaki acknowledged her.  “Ohayo.  What’s up?”

            Ayame dimpled playfully.  “Just thought I’d check on you”, she laughed.  “We sort of miss you here at the manor.”

            The young ningyô waved her off with an airy laugh.  “You guys probably don’t miss me that much!”, she exclaimed.  However, she turned serious.  “You got any news for me today?”

            “Hai, Murasaki-sama.”  Ayame held up a sheaf of reports.  “Our resident historian dug up something that smacks of meaning – in Nikko.”

            “Nikko?”  Something clicked in Murasaki’s mind; it made some sense, of course.  “Nikko near Osaka?  The temple city?”

            “Hai, Murasaki-sama.”

            It really made sense.  Historically, Nikko had always been a city that showed no loyalty to the sovereignty of the Yamato Clan over Japan.  During the feudal period, the Buddhist clerical community had sided with the Tokugawa shogunate.  At the time of the Meiji Restoration, they had fought tooth and claw to keep the Yamato from reclaiming the Chrysanthemum Throne.  After the Second World War, they had also sided with the faction that had called for the development of a constitutional monarchy that left the Yamato virtually powerless.  They would probably be the first who would side with anyone who tried to overthrow the government.

            “But why would you guys single out Nikko?”, Murasaki now asked.  “Sure it’s always been a hotbed, but they’ve been quiet for more than a century.”

            “Remember the medallion you picked up in the dungeon?”  Ayame held up the ziplocked piece of evidence.  “The cherry blossom insignia on it resembles the one used as a seal by one of the former abbots of Jinjaodo Temple.”

            “Jinjaodo…”  Murasaki’s mind ran over the history lessons she’d had as a child.  The Jinjaodo was Nikko’s main temple as well as the oldest.  It had been there since the Heian Period – roughly about the same time as the days of Fujiwara supremacy in the Imperial Court.  There had never been any love lost between her clan and the succeeding generations of abbots who led the community at that temple.  Strangely though, she’d been told that the current abbot was an old school friend of her father’s.  That was more than just odd.  Obviously, some investigations had to be done.

            “Ohayo, ôjisama”, DG-Hina greeted Kunihiko as he entered, still toweling off his damp hair.

            “Ohayo”, the Crown Prince replied.  Affectionately, he planted a kiss on Murasaki’s forehead and picked up Odin who was meowing noisily off the floor.  “Ayame”, he acknowledged the girl in the viewscreen.

            “Your Highness.”  Ayame bowed deeply from where she was.

            “The court historian of Nara has traced the possible origin of the medallion, master”, Murasaki informed him.  “It seems that we may have to send a party to Nikko to investigate.”

            “Why send a party when we can go there ourselves?”, Kunihiko noted with one eyebrow raised.

            “Your Highness!”  Ayame was clearly shocked.  “That just isn’t done!”

            “Why not?  It is my responsibility as the one next in line to the throne to examine all matters regarding national security.”

            “Yes, but…”

            “These are dangerous times, master”, Murasaki reminded Kunihiko.  “Much as we do appreciate your volunteering for the job, you would put yourself in gravest danger even with me watching your back.  You know your father won’t let you go.”

            Kunihiko pressed a finger to her lips to silence her; Murasaki raised both eyebrows in consternation.  “I will persuade His Majesty to allow me to take the lead on this.”  The tone he used meant that he would brook no nonsense or protest; he took his responsibilities very seriously.  “You are to go with me and we shall choose other members of the Four Clans to accompany us.”

            “Your Highness!”  In the doorway, three Imperial Guardsmen stood.  Two of them held a struggling prisoner; Murasaki recognized him as the one who’d fallen into a ditch.  The third dropped to one knee before the Crown Prince.  “A prowler fell into one of the trenches of the Fukiage Perimeter last night.”

            “Throw him into a maximum security holding cell.”  Murasaki did not want the incident that happened on the day of her investiture to be repeated.  “I will ask one of my brothers to question him at once.”

            “Milords Mitsuru and Masami are at the Palace, Milady”, the spokesman-guard advised her.  “Milord Masami will be staying as he is to look over His Majesty’s entry to the poetry festival in honor of the Malaysian president.”

            “Ask Masami to stop by the holding cell should he have the time to do so.”  Murasaki looked grim at the struggling prisoner who’d been bound and gagged.  “If anyone can wring answers from this vermin you’ve caught, it would have to be Masami.”

 

“You’re going to Nikko?”

            The Emperor stopped browsing through his bookshelves at his son’s announcement that he and his ningyô would conduct an investigation in Nikko.  It wasn’t that he would go against the young man’s decision; in fact, it impressed the Emperor to no end that his son always took an active interest in affairs of the government.  However, his parental instincts were going haywire.  Why wouldn’t they when the boy already had one close call?  It was but right for Junichi to worry about his son’s safety.

            “You needn’t worry about me, Father”, Kunihiko was quick to assure his father.  “It isn’t like I’m going alone; Murasaki will be with me – and she’s enough to beat a small to middling army!”

            “And we’re choosing others to come along as well, your Majesty”, Murasaki chimed in.  “Trained experts in the martial arts for the most who are also capable of making a valid investigation.”

            Junichi sighed as he regarded the two youngsters sitting across his desk.  His son’s face said quite clearly that he would not take no for an answer.  The young ningyô on the other hand was earnest and would keep her master on the right track.  Junichi was fairly sure that she’d beat him up if need be to keep him from straying!

            “I don’t seem to have much of a choice”, he now murmured ruefully.  He leaned forward intently.  “But this seems rather sudden: what’s going on, you two?”

            “Our court historian has pinpointed Nikko as a possible nest of insurgents, sire”, Murasaki informed him.  But, “Not that I should jump to conclusions because Nikko’s always been an insurgents’ haven, yet Dad’s always said that the current abbot – Daigoro Sakurazaki – was a mutual school friend of yours.”

            Junichi smiled.  “That he is, indeed”, he nodded in agreement.  “Yes, Daigoro would be the exception to the rule – and it would be rather strange that an uprising would begin in Nikko at a time when the current abbot is both your father’s friend and mine.”  In a more subdued manner, he added that Nikko had been silent for quite some time.  “Almost a century now, as a matter of fact”, he noted, pushing a filled-to-the-brim candy dish before them.

            “It kinda makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”  Kunihiko reached for the candy eagerly, but Murasaki smartly slapped his hand away.  “Ouch!  What was that for?”

            “It’s only eight AM, master”, she said primly.  “Don’t you think that’s too early for chocolate bonbons?”

            Junichi stifled a laugh at that; it reminded him of how his own wife had been when she first became his ningyô.

            “Anyway”, he broke in before the two could set to squabbling, “when are you kids leaving?”

            “Friday”, came the chorused reply.  “I’ve made arrangements with several of my agents, sire”, Murasaki added.  “We’re staying at a ryokan run by one of the covert ops.”

            “What’s this?”  They all looked up to see the Empress entering the room with Zeus and Hera at her heels.  Upon seeing Odin on Kunihiko’s lap, Hera began meowing until the former leapt onto the floor.  The plump mother cat promptly began grooming her first born.

            “Aw, Ma!”  Odin seemed mortified: fancy being groomed by your mother in front of your mate!  Freya was grinning widely at the sight.  “I just had a bath this morning!”

            “Your fur’s sticking out in tufts!”, Hera meowed while rubbing furiously.

            “Hi, Mamma.”  Kunihiko rose and dutifully kissed his mother’s cheek as Murasaki bowed.

            “Good morning, your Majesty”, Murasaki greeted her.

            “For heaven’s sake, Murasaki!”, Naoko chuckled in her rich throaty way with a fond smoothing-over of the girl’s hair.  “What have I told you about calling me ‘your Majesty’?”

            “Oh, but I haven’t even married into the Clan yet!”, Murasaki protested, her eyes innocently wide.

            Kunihiko said nothing but promptly grabbed a handful of his father’s chocolate-coated almonds and stuffed them into his mouth before either his mother or ningyô could protest.  He firmly subscribed to the belief that sugar – in any edible form – was a great panacea for shocks.

            “I thought I overheard someone say something about a trip to Nikko”, Naoko said as she sat down on a nearby couch with Zeus on her lap.  “In which case, I ought to be perfectly motherly and beg you not to go, Kuni-chan.”

            “I kinda expected that”, Kunihiko murmured to no one in particular; he did not look very happy about it, though.       

            “Nevertheless”, his mother went on, “I have also been told that there’s a hired thug down in the Palace dungeon who’s under heavy guard.  If Nikko gives us an advantage against whoever’s behind all these attacks, then you may certainly go.”  She conferred with her husband by way of a look; he shook his head firmly.  “You do understand that we cannot spare Rei for you, don’t you?”
            Kunihiko smiled.  At least, that was one problem out of the way.  “I don’t want any pests on my back, Mamma”, he chuckled.  “Least of all any pesky kid sisters!”

            “Kunihiko!”

            “I was just kidding, Mamma.”  More seriously, he turned to his father.  “We’re aware that the network surveillance team’s been rather busy of late, but could you spare us your two best crackerjacks for the Nikko trip?”

            Junichi sat back and considered the request.

            “Mamo-niisan is an expert in historical relations, sire”, Murasaki chimed in.  “And Maria-senpai would play surety.”

            “Surety?”

            “Yes.  Just in case anything happens to me…”

            “God forbid!”, Kunihiko muttered worriedly.

            “…we’d have another ningyô on duty.”  Murasaki dimpled girlishly.  “She  is a ningyô after all, right?”

            “Absolutely.”  Junichi grinned and sat up.  “Very well, then: you can go.”

 

Chapter Five:  Nikko

 

Chapter Three:  Investiture

 

Chapter Two:  Speculations

 

Chapter One:  Murasaki’s Homecoming

 

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