A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan Chapter 157 - Meditation

"It does not matter how one sits, or where you do it. You could stand on your head on the side of a volcano – it would not change the mind of an experienced monk. Yet in this darkened room, I think you might feel a stronger connection to yourself. Now – breathe. Breathe deeply, and longingly, as though you have just surfaced from the deepest of oceans. Steady your heartbeat, and clear your mind."
Gengyo did as he was told, and imitated Soroko's lotus position, closing his eyes, and taking in a deep breath, rich with oxygen. His heart and mind were calm, as he awaited further instruction.
"Focus on a single word, and repeat it over, and over. The rest – it will take care of itself."
Unbeknownst to Gengyo, after he gave that final instruction, Soroko slipped away, to leave him in silence with the sound of flickering flames.
"His response to the herbs was as expected – his sleep has begun it's restoration." The old monk spoke with his partner in this little endeavour of theirs. "There was something else too, however. Not only did it sharpen his mind, but his senses, and perhaps even his physical abilities. I'm not sure whether it was a coincidence or not, but he seemed able to sense me, even when I hid my chi."
"Hoho… He's quite the little monster." Momochi murmured. "It seems I was right in bringing him back, no? Though our fellow sensei seemed rather against it."
"Indeed. It is terrifying to witness such a thing unfold. He does not even know of the ability that he wields. To think that it was all true – all that was written. They were words that could apply to all men, but he truly embodies them. Do you think one is born like that? Or are they created, Momochi?"
"His darkness is of this world's creation, but the potential had always been there. A mere switch was flicked, lighting his fires. Whoever it was that offended him… Oh, I pity that man. Still, we can only do our duty as men of the Buddist faith, and endow him with what knowledge we are able… And then it will be time to release him once more into the world, and bring about whatever carnage he may."
"I see… you always were more receptive when it came to interpreting the holy word. But all these excuses we had to make in order to bring him in – talk of light and dark. Is that a sign of our decline? That we have to lie to one another in order to bring about something that was always our destiny to reenact?"
"Do not judge yourself too harshly. Kuraka has a different mind to you and I – it would not do to try and beg for his understanding. But nor should he be discluded. Ah. Do you think that would be a suitable test, for his readiness? When he is able to duel our good friend Kuraka, without problem?"
"Ho… That would take years, surely? It seems unwise to keep this tiger caged for too long. It is our honour to have him – but the disorder he will cause amongst the ranks will be immense. For our sake, the quicker we can complete our task, the better."
"That's of no matter. At most, I judge it will take a couple of weeks."
"Is that it!?" Soroko burst out, outraged. Such progress was unfathamonable. "Kuraka is the strongest we have to offer. He's likely the strongest monk in all of Japan! If he can reach that level in a matter of weeks… Is that not too… Unfair?"
"On the contrary. It's a blessing. Japan needs that strength, more than ever. These times are turbulent ones, and the faster a monster is raised the better, for this one will be endowed with the qualities of light."
Soroko shook his head, baffled. He had no idea whether Momochi's words were true, but the mere idea was enough to shake his world to the core.
An hour passed since Gengyo's medition began, and already, there had been some changes within the sea of his consciousness. As he repeated the word "fire" time and time over, it no longer held any meaning. It was as though he had drained all that it signified, and left it as an empty shell. Now, it was barely a marker. A signal that time had passed. Yet despite being a signal, he hardly noticed it was there.
Instead, his mind dared to try and wrestle free, and explore other anvenues of thought, ranging from the mundane, to the philosophical. But he restrained it tightly, and focused merely on that word. Soon time passed in a flow separate to his own, and was largely ignored.
Thoughts came that were not summoned, nor freely controllable by himself. They were fantastical in their imagery, with bright colours, and odd appearances. All sorts of inexplicable occurrences happened, that were not in the least constrained by logic. A yellow rabbit sped away towards a river, where it swiftly melted into the body of a frog, before adopting the appearance of a bright red fish.
The fish sped around, angrily stirring up the waters, giving rise to a huge whirlpool, that threatened to suck him in. Against his will, he was dragged into its vicious flow, and plummeted below the depths of the water.
In this watery world, light rarely penetrated. He knew this, as he swam there, not bothering to wonder why he could breath so freely.
GULP
Unable to move as swiftly as the rest in this thick and heavy liquid, he soon became prey to a large whale, and was thrown into it's poignant belly. No emotion passed him as this event took place. It was merely part of the flow of nature – one that he did not resist.
Still he repeated his words: "fire, fire, fire."
In the darkness of the belly, his chanting gave way to dim light, burning on the end of his finger, like a poorly made candle. From his light was created many shadows, which danced endlessly, as though to serenade him. He watched their performance for a time, before his eyes began to deceive him, and they started to merge.
Soon all that was left were three dark shadowy blobs of mass. And these came ever closer, unafraid of the light springing from his fingertip.
"Are you the one?"
Came a rasping voice, that he instinctively knew to belong to the devil.
"I am."
He replied.
"Of course he is."
A female's bewitching tone rang out.
"Do not tease him so aggressively."
An old man mumbled.
"So you've come seeking answers, have you boy?" The old man asked, taking the lead.
"I have."
"And what will you do once you attain these answers?"
"I will conquer."
"Hehe, the boy knows! We know he knows, for we are him!"
The devil cackled delightedly.
"Do you know why your dreams are plagued with such nightmares? Why your nights are a mere continuation of the day? It is because you allowed him," he pointed to the devil, "into your life, yet now you rejected him, after you allowed him a taste of your spirit."
The old man stepped forward, revealing his long white beard, and long curled white hair. He was the oldest man Gengyo had ever laid eyes upon, and the wisest.
"'Tis true! I'm hungry! Why can't you kill more, eh? Why don't you do as you say, and let chaos loose, eh? This is nothing! Kill your friends! Kill your family! What's the point, anyway? Don't you want to savour that despair, won't there be such sweet joy to be extracted from that?"
"See? He is hungry indeed. And his words are your own. As mine are. Yet despite his twisted nature, you should not reject him. He is everything about you that you hide. Every little insecurity, every bit of anger. Yet he is still you, and in attempting to hide him, you remove bricks from your tower, and slowly plummet to the ground."
"And I am you too, dear. Do not tell me; I already know that I have been missed. For a time, we were well acquainted, were we not? But now you dine with old men, and with devils? Don't you know a woman's charm is part of your tower too?"
The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon stepped forward, drapping her arm around him, as she bathed him in her perfume, and allowed her hair to flow down and tickle his neck.
"She too, is a part of you. Do not repress her either. She is the cement that coats your bricks together. You have a woman that cares for you. Advance with her, so that you can live as men ought to. Do not be driven merely by impulse, but by planning."
The wise old man informed him.
"You and I have always been well acquainted, have we not? You build your life with the tools I give you, for you value intelligence above all else – and make no mistake, I've enjoyed our time together. But it has finally come time for you to reach maturity, and use all of us. There is a place for rationality. There is a place for anger. And there is a place for love. You are a man, Gengyo. Embrace us all, and become a god."
There was no room for words to come out of his mouth – his needs were clear. He embraced the woman as she clung to him, and her b.r.e.a.s.ts pressed against his chest. She kissed him passionately, trying to seduce him, and place him entirely at her mercy. But much to her disappointment, he pulled back, and with a nod, he completed the hug.
"Kekeke!"
The devil chortled happily, seeing Gengyo grow closer. He would never dare to leave the shadow, for fear of being seen, and was so very excited to see his dinner grow so near. A lumpy, disformed arm reached out to him, as he offered one of his own. It was an uncomfortable embrace, as he could feel all the lumps of the creature's skin, and the unnatural formation of his back.
The devil's grip was strong, and as he came in close, it held him tight, unwilling to let go. It's saliva dripped hungrily on his neck, yet he did not flinch. Even as it tore away a piece of his flesh, he did not flinch. But when he deemed the hug to be enough, he pulled past those powerful arms, as though they were made of air, and with a hand, he brought the shadow stepping into the light.
"Keh!!"
It roared painfully in fear and anguish, as it's unsightliness was revealed to all. Yet once more, Gengyo hugged it. His actions portraying a clear acceptance for that side of himself.
And then, he gave an embrace to his guide. The wise old man.
"Stay true to your path, Gengyo, for you now wield the power of a god."
Were the final words he whispered, as Gengyo was pulled from that world of his dreams, and opened his eyes, revealing the scenery of the meditation chamber.
He stood up swiftly, not realizing that he had been down there for six hours – nor did he care. He put a hand to his chest. It beat slowly, and measuredly, as though assured. The thoughts drifting through his head were clear, and unfazed, and as he clenched his fist, without even punching, he could feel the new strength.
"The pieces were always available, yet I never bothered to assemble them."
He realized, recalling the wise old man's words. Without even testing, he knew the nightmares would no longer come. He knew he would no longer be haunted by such thoughts. And with that, a new meaning came for his revenge, for he was no longer so inspired by hatred.
"This land of the rising sun has been bathed in darkness for far too long. Both here, and in the modern-day, corruption is rife. The powers in control do not fight for our sake. They are not men of the people. But I – I think I understand. The state should be there, as the wise old man is for me. A mere guide, so that they can live out their purpose… I will make that happen. I will conquer Japan."