Teruro pushed off of the Portuguese ship and started to navigate the small fishing boat through the moonlit bodies.
“You don’t have to go around the bodies, you know.” Takeko said, “They aren’t really there.”
“Eh? Hmm… Is that so?” Teruro tried to poke one of the pale bodies with the oar and watched the image ripple the way a reflection on the surface would.
“You know, Takeko, I have some questions for you…” he said as he sculled.
“Why don’t you start by telling me what happened on the ship?”
Takeko shrugged, “Nothing much, a guy with a crooked club tried to bash my head in, but I kinda hit him first.”
“Yeah, my blow passed through his face. He wasn’t really there. Then, he ran away through the side of the boat, onto the water, and vanished.”
“…” Teruro looked pensive.
Drifting clouds dampened the moonlight and the ghostly image of the bodies faded from view.
“I understand that your master was cast out from his order for being more devout as a follower of the way of the blade than that of Buddha. Clearly he has trained you in way of true battle.”
Takeko nodded and shrugged.
“But why is it that nothing seems to faze you?”
Takeko sighed, “I guess I was going to have to tell you sooner or later. As you know, I have visions… I experience those visions from the point of view of a person in my vision. Everything they feel, see or hear, and, to some extent, think- I experience as well. But the real kicker is that while, to the world, my visions last anything from a few seconds to up to thirty minutes, their duration is unrelated to how much time I experience within it.”
“Eh? So then…”
“Yes, By the time I was twelve I had already experienced several lifetimes worth of visions. The highs of human achievements, the low of human weakness, and a great amount of everyday human activity. But then I figured out how to control it and only had visions when I chose to…”
“How did you get control over it?”
Takeko looked at Teruro, as if gauging his soul, and shrugged as she decided to trust him… “The secret is in my hair… When people look into my hair, they see truths about themselves. Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth about themselves. When I look into it, I have visions…”
“So the cloth in that box you carry is woven from your hair… And that’s why you keep your head shaven.”
Teruro frowned, “Hmm… Well, I guess that leaves me with just one question.”
“Ok…What is it?” Takeko said guardedly.
“We’ve been traveling together for a few day now. How is it that your pack seems three times bigger now than when we left?”
“Oh, I just I picked some stuff up along the way…”
“Yes… Well… When we stopped at that teahouse I got some rice, some dried fish, a pot of miso, and another of umeboshi… I picked up some chestnuts in that forest we walked through… in the galley of the ship I got…”
“Ok, ok I get the picture…”
“Hey look we’re coming to shore… I smell food!”
“You again.” Teruro said tersely as he leapt off of the boat and started pulling it onto the beach.
“Oh hi, it’s you! Do you have enough for us too?” Takeko enthused.
The muscular young man blinked in surprise and then chucked softly.
“As a matter of fact, I have! Right this way miss. My name is Ingen by the way.”
“I have a pot of Shijimijiru* going and there are a half-dozen Sanma** roasting next to the fire.”
“Hmm… You were clearly expecting us. How long have you been here?” Teruro asked.
“I’ve been here for two days, I came straight here from the tavern where we first met.”
“Ha. I told you going through mountains would take longer!” Takeko exclaimed triumphantly.
“Apparently so… But that’s not important. What I’d like to know is, who are you? Why did you come here? What do you want?”
The young man shrugged dismissively, “I’m Ingen.” After a dramatic pause, he went on to conclude, “And I’m going to kill the man you are after.”
“Hey guys, since you aren’t eating your fish… Can I have them?” Takeko asked, pointing at the four remaining fish with the bones of two she had eaten.
*Shijimijiru = Miso soup with clams
**Sanma = Pike Mackerel