The Kalavinka Cub and the Musician (Part 6/Final)

Pale sunlight, seeping through the morning mist, poured down onto Mount Longmen and gradually reached into the cave.
Relying on the soft light, Yoshitsugu finished his travel preparations and hoisted his pack while still on his knees. The cave where Naomasa had been hiding was just large enough for three people to stay in. It was not high enough for a giant like Yoshitsugu, who boasted a height of seven and a half shaku*1, to stand up straight.

"Are you leaving?"
"Yes. As planned, we are heading for Luoyang for the time being. ...I apologize for the disturbance."
"...It is fine. The mountain was just a bit noisy for a moment. I hope you reach the place you seek safely."

Contrary to his usual blunt tone, Yoshitsugu bowed his head deeply. His hair, tied in a single knot, flowed gently down his neck.
In response, Naomasa remained sitting on one knee and nodded firmly. His long, white hair, devoid of any oil, was even more disheveled.
Before long, Naomasa's gaze shifted from Yoshitsugu to Oto, who was groaning while crossing his arms beside Yoshitsugu.

"...Ugh..."
"What are you worrying about? You don't intend to stay here any longer, do you--"
"I know that, it's not that..."

Oto walked over to Naomasa. The hemp cloak dragging at his feet slid across the cold rock floor.

"...Hey, old man, why don't you come to Luoyang with us?"

At Oto's sudden remark, Yoshitsugu and Naomasa widened their eyes.

"We'll find a way to scrape together some money and properly restring your zither. If you play it in the city... let's see, right in the middle of a crowded market, everyone will surely stop in their tracks. They'll all be amazed, saying, 'There's an incredible musician here!' It's a waste of your talent to keep hiding in a hole forever."
"Wait, I--"

Beside the flustered Naomasa, Yoshitsugu closed his eyes and nodded. He accepted Oto's selfish suggestion without objection.

"I don't mind if you come as far as Luoyang. As long as you don't hinder our journey, that is fine by me."

Even if his current appearance was that of a hermit, Yoshitsugu had no doubt that Naomasa was a gifted musician, having traveled to Tang as one of the Onjoshō*2. If he were to play a zither strung with proper silk strings instead of a single string made from his own white hair, his sound would be clear to anyone's ears. Yoshitsugu realized that he might be able to witness Naomasa, who had been smoldering in the dim cave, shine with a brilliant radiance.
As the two waited for an answer, their gazes fixed on him, Naomasa shook his head.

"I appreciate the invitation. ...But I will not go."

Oto could not hide his disappointment that Naomasa had not given the affirmation he had hoped for.
Feigning the tone of a petulant child, Oto tried to appeal to Naomasa's emotions once more.

"Look, we just happened to come here, but it's rare for anyone to go out of their way to enter the deep mountains. No matter how good your performance is, the only one listening is you, old man, right? Are you really okay with that?"
"...Yes. The sound I seek exists only in this place. It can never be obtained in the secular world. Therefore, I cannot leave."

From his firm and stubborn attitude, Oto's memory returned to the moment he first met Naomasa.
Naomasa had mistaken Yoshitsugu, who spoke the same native language, for one of the Japanese envoys to Tang trying to force him back, and had even tried to drive him away by firing arrows. Oto finally understood the reason he refused to be taken out of the dim, damp cave.
Oto's extraordinary hearing had surely captured the sound Naomasa was seeking. The harmony played by all life and phenomena was fluid, and the subtle resonance of the white-haired string occasionally blended into it. The world Naomasa created with his single-stringed zither while hiding in the cave was fascinating even to Oto's ears. Oto realized, albeit reluctantly, that Naomasa had created a world so profound that he had vowed to sever ties with the secular world.

"...I see. Then, this is where we part ways."

Oto turned his back on Naomasa and stared at the morning sun seeping outside the cave.
Then, swaying his head from side to side, he relaxed his entire body by shaking his shoulders and arms with the flow. The gesture of wrapping his small body in the wind and letting himself dissolve into it was the signal that he was about to recite a 'song/poem'.

"You've lived here for decades, so it's not like 'everyone knows' you... But, I'll remember you."

And so, each word placed upon his lips was released to dance in the sky. The sequence of sounds vanishing in an instant was Oto's own way of saying goodbye.

The song Oto chanted with a melody was a recitation of a seven-character quatrain*3,4 addressed by a famous poet to a master of the zither.
There was no reason for Naomasa's heart not to be moved by a singing voice that even Yoshitsugu, who was used to hearing it, could not help but admire.

"...Oh..."

Naomasa was struck with wonder by the intelligence of reciting the poem without hesitation, the brilliance of the melody played from his lips, and the words of the poem itself.
His half-open mouth trembled, and tears overflowed endlessly from his eyes, which were crusted with rheum. The tears that flowed down moistened his dry skin like the condensation running down the cave walls.

"Hey, you idiot! Don't cry!"

Faced with the sight of an old man weeping like a baby without regard for who was watching, Oto shouted in embarrassment.
Naomasa steadied his ragged breathing, sniffled, and managed to squeeze out a raspy voice.

"...When I was in the capital of Kyoto, I was arrogant, believing I had more talent than anyone else. Even if I met someone superior to me after arriving in Tang, I thought I would soon surpass them and prove my own strength. ...But my thinking was naive. I met many masters in Chang'an. I realized that I was no match for their exquisite fingerwork, as if celestial maidens were dancing, or the glamorous tones they played. That is why I gave up on returning to the capital and left my companions."

Both Yoshitsugu and Oto fell silent, facing Naomasa's past.
In the back of Yoshitsugu's mind, he saw himself, having also given up on returning home and remaining in Tang. He saw himself in Naomasa, who had risked his life to cross into Tang, only to reach a state where he had to ignore even the Emperor's decree.

“...But I could never give up. The zither is my everything. I believed that if I kept facing the zither, a path would open. To practice in a place without noise, undisturbed by anyone, I wandered Mount Longmen and arrived at this cave. After spending everything but eating and sleeping on practice, before I knew it, my plectrums were shattered to pieces, and the silk strings had all snapped and flown away.”

Naomasa lowered his eyes and looked at his fingertips. On his fingertips, cracked with deep wrinkles, lay a zither covered in scratches with its black lacquer peeled off. As if comforting an old friend, Naomasa gently stroked the grain of the paulownia wood.

“...In my hazy consciousness, when I plucked the strings with hair that had grown out in jest, I realized. I realized the depth of the mountain's timbre, which I had never paid attention to before, and the way of playing that nestles close to that world.”“It does not matter if it reaches anyone's ears. I want to play as long as I have life. It is enough that only I know. It does not matter if my ears have gone mad. ...For fifty years, I have thought so. Until I met you.”

Wiping away the tears that had gathered on his protruding cheekbones, Naomasa's moist eyes caught Oto.

“Oto. Your ears have truly touched the timbre I play. That is enough for me. I have finally been able to accept that there was indeed a meaning to coming to this land. Thank you.”
“What's with that? It's embarrassing.”

Naomasa's formal demeanor was completely different from how he had bared his suspicion and hostility when they first met. Puzzled by a strange sensation that tickled his skin, Oto scratched the tip of his nose.
Then, Naomasa walked over to Yoshitsugu once more. At a closer distance than the night they had spent around the campfire, his raspy voice was released.

“...Kashihara Yoshitsugu, was it? I must also thank you for guiding Oto. ...If you continue to walk the same journey as Oto, I am sure you will eventually encounter the timbre you desire.”

The 'Song of Guidance' that was said to call Oto from the far west still showed no signs of reaching Yoshitsugu's ears. Even so, Yoshitsugu had the resolve to trust Oto and continue their journey together. Feeling as though his groundless resolve had been affirmed, Yoshitsugu naturally straightened his back.

“Hey, you. You didn't say anything unnecessary last night, did you?”

The conversation exchanged between Yoshitsugu and Naomasa had not reached the ears of Oto, who had been fast asleep.
Looking away from Oto, who was thrusting his head forward and casting a cold gaze, Yoshitsugu shook his head in silence. He knew that if he spoke any unnecessary words of denial, Oto would immediately sense it with his power.
Oto's attempt to press Yoshitsugu, who was feigning ignorance, was just like a daughter playing with her father. The heartwarming scene reflected in his eyes put a lid on Naomasa's tear ducts. The behavior, which one would not expect from the owner of the singing voice from earlier, further piqued Naomasa's admiration.

“...Still, that was a mysterious singing voice. Elegant, light, as if the voice had grown wings... 'A voice like a Kalavinka' must surely refer to a voice like yours.”

Oto and Yoshitsugu stopped their bickering and looked at each other.
The superlative compliment used for the owner of a rare and beautiful voice was merely a metaphor to Naomasa. However, those words were a fact that would never end as a metaphor, and a secret between the two that they had sworn never to reveal to anyone.

“Heh... heheh!”
“What is it? What is so funny?”
“Old man, don't say such weird things! My voice isn't anything that grand. Besides, there's no way a creature like a Kalavinka, which I don't even know if it's a bird or a human, actually exists! Right?”

Oto's lively, high-pitched laugh, mixed with embarrassment and evasion, flew lightly out of the cave.
The fog that had covered Mount Longmen had cleared up without a single cloud before anyone noticed.

“The Kalavinka's Child and the Musician” End

And so, their journey continues further...