Oath of the Oni Brothers
Fiction - by Chun Hyon Lee
The three brothers chased their oni father across Kabishi province and finally cornered the ogre on top of Mount Sheeshen. This was a matter of honor, as their uncle reminded them often. Hiten, the eldest brother, used his keen yellow eyes to track their father, who hid himself in a cave near a waterfall. Only Hiten could see so far, so the brothers stopped by a stream to eat a meal of rice balls and pickled radish.
“Do we have him now?” Wataru asked.
“Do not ask that question, little brother,” Kiske said. “We have chased after Father for five years and he has been elusive enough to hide from even Hiten’s eyes.”
Hiten stood in silence, gazing at the water. Leaving Bashu, a town in which their uncle was a lord, had been difficult for all three, but it was far worse for Hiten. While his little brothers could cover their deformities with bandages or a heroic story full of lies, Hiten had to wear a mask to cover his oni face from strangers. The villagers they passed treated him as if his face had been burned in a fire.
Kiske, the middle brother, kept his legs hidden by wearing a kimono with long robes that reached his ankles. The only problem came from Kiske’s large and red feet. No sandals were made large enough to contain his giant feet. Kiske’s only remedy was to wrap his feet in bandages and walk barefoot, hoping no one would notice them, being more concerned with the katana to his side. He rarely walked inside a home for fear of staining his hosts’ floors.
Hiten’s youngest brother, Wataru, refused to hide his deformities and even liked to show them off. He shortened the sleeves of his kimono and refused to cover the black nails of an oni with gloves, complaining that he lost the feel of his bowstring without bare hands. Wataru often told simple lies to anyone who asked him about his red arms: “A witch gave them to me to teach me to be humble” or “I grew up fighting with a pack of wolves and these are the scars to prove it.”
“There are farmers coming this way,” Hiten said. They were still several hilltops away, but Hiten and Kiske knew it was time to cover themselves again.
Kiske took extra care with his wrappings, tightening the bandages with a quick “fwip” after each revolution around his ankles. He tied the wrappings off at the calves and then hid them under his kimono.
Hiten put his disguise on and tied the two ropes that were attached to the mask around his head. The white mask was mostly featureless except for two black horns and two eye slits. No one had noticed the yellow of his irises because very few looked at him in the face or even tried to come close to him.
Three travelers came through and stopped to drink by the water. Two were men that tried their best to ignore the three brothers while the third was a young woman dressed in expensive and bright garments. Her kimono was blue with intricate flower designs overlapping one another. Hiten was surprised to find the young woman watching the three of them with no modesty. She stared intently at Hiten’s mask.
Wataru waved at the three with one of his big red arms, and the two men quickly rushed the woman on with worried looks on their faces.
“She was cute,” Wataru said.
“You always think they’re cute,” Kiske said.
“But this time she was. Did you see the comb she used to tie her hair up with?”
“It was like Mother’s,” Hiten said.
Both of his brothers stared at Hiten. He rarely spoke, and normally it was to order the other two around. Hiten felt the warmth of a blush spread over his face and was glad he had his mask on.
The trail led to a small farming village harvesting rice and sweet potatoes. Villagers gathering for the harvest stopped when they caught sight of the three brothers.
“How about we stop here for the night?” Wataru asked. “We can find a nice room. Try the best sake they have and maybe even invite some girls into our rooms.” He finished talking with a nudge to Hiten.
Wataru often said similar things when they came to a village. He was always reaching out for attention. Hiten knew it was his way of asking for acceptance, but having blood red arms and black nails left little to be accepted. People treated him like the half-monster he was. Hiten had given up on such things a long time ago. If they wanted to treat him like a monster then they were welcome to; they just had to stay out of his way.
The three brothers stopped to eat, after much nagging from Wataru, at a small wooden cart that served broiled eel in teriyaki sauce. The eel vendor stood silent as the three ordered, but Wataru’s charm could be formidable, even to the most frightened of people.
“Friend, where do you get such marvelous eels?” Wataru asked. “We’re so far inland I would think it wouldn’t be possible.” Wataru did not look the eel vendor in the eye, knowing that the man was staring at his red arms and black nails.
The man remained silent for a moment longer. Hiten wanted to cut the man’s head off for treating him and his brothers like beasts, but Wataru’s charm won through.
“My brother brings them to me. The key is to keep them alive for the trip up. I only buy the ones that are still moving.”
It was only a matter of time for the man to ease into comfort as Wataru talked. Kiske had one eel, Wataru gobbled down six, and Hiten had none, because he would have had to remove his mask.
“May I ask what brings you three here?” asked the vendor.
“We’re on a hunt,” Wataru said.
“Hunting?” The man looked at the weapons the three brothers carried. “Hunting for money it seems. Mercenaries?”
“We don’t work for money,” said Kiske. Hiten knew that Kiske would be most offended by that comment. Kiske was the strategically minded of the three and thought mercenaries to be the most dishonorable of warriors. He would always beat Wataru and Hiten at Go and other games of the mind. When studying military tactics, Kiske would listen to Uncle Hotashi intently, asking questions that Hiten had never even considered.
“We hunt oni, and that is an honorable thing to do,” Kiske added with his hand on his hilt.
The man opened his eyes wide in concern. “No offense meant, sirs. It is an honorable thing to kill those demons. I feel honored to be serving you and your friends. In fact, consider this meal to be free. There haven’t been any oni here in years though. I didn’t know we had need of hunters such as yourselves.”
Kiske nodded and put his hand away from his katana.
“You say there have been no oni sightings at all?” Hiten asked. It was the only part of this conversation that piqued his interest.
“None at all, sirs.”
Father was too clever to walk into town, but Hiten wondered how a ten-foot oni could get past so many villagers. Hiten tried to consider his uncle Hotashi’s advice on hunting the most cunning of oni, and he remembered that some oni could use magic to alter their appearance and look like a regular human. Father could have walked through this village looking like a simple traveler. If Father really knew this trick then it would explain how the oni had been so elusive these last seven years.
Wataru managed to convince Hiten to rest the night at a small inn in the village. By a twist of coincidence Hiten realized that they shared the same inn as the woman with the comb in her hair. He could tell by her scent lingering in the hallways of the inn.
When evening came, Hiten found that he couldn’t sleep without the stars above his head and so moved outside, standing next to the garden by a calm pond. It was nearly a harvest moon and everything in the garden seemed to glow with a white aura.
A few moments later Hiten noticed the woman with the comb walk up to him. He knew that she must have come from a lord’s home to be so bold as to walk up to a strange man.
“You wear a mask and let people think you are scarred from a fire, but that is not the case is it, sir?”
Hiten had no idea how to respond. He only watched the girl in silence.
“My name is Kyoko Godai. I can tell you are not scarred by a fire because of your eyes. They are yellow, sir. Perhaps you just have a face that is different from the rest of us?”
“Do not continue,” he said. Her smell was of lotus flowers, her skin powdered to a soft creamy complexion, but her eyes were piercing and frightening. Hiten felt unsettled just being near her. His heartbeat quickened and he found himself staring intently at her red lips. “I do not need to tell you why I wear a mask,” he said without stammering.
“That is your choice. Samurai make such decisions all the time without ever letting anyone know their reasons. But why do I feel like you would very much like to shed that mask if you could?”
Hiten’s mask suddenly seemed to weigh a hundred times more than it normally did and he tilted his down to the floor.
A scream sounded from the other side of the little village. His brothers jumped out of their room. Kiske and Hiten both had their hands on their hilts while Wataru had pulled out an arrow and drawn the bowstring.
“Could it be Father?” Kiske asked.
“Come,” Hiten said and his younger brothers moved with him. The screams continued, accompanied by a low and guttural laugh. “Kiske, go on ahead and tell me what you see.”
Kiske’s legs allowed him to run much faster than a normal man and soon he was out of Hiten’s sight.
As they turned the corner Kiske was standing against a large oni. It had the same red skin as most oni do, but this one carried a large mace the size of a cart. The tips of its horns stood two feet from the top of his head, a mark of strength for its kind. Even though it was of such a large size Hiten could tell that the oni was young because its teeth were still white and not brown from eating the bloody flesh of its victims. Perhaps only one hundred years old or so.
Kiske dodged a mace attack from the oni. With his fast legs, he was one of the greatest swordsmen of the land and could evade attacks with ease.
“Oni, why are you here?” Hiten asked.
The oni stopped chasing Kiske to consider Hiten’s words. He opened his mouth and the sour stink of rotting meat snuck through Hiten’s mask.
“Little man, do you know Onibayashu, the Red Lord? He killed my father last week, and I have traced his scent to this village here.”
Onibayashu was Father’s name. “What do you know of him?” Hiten asked.
“Only that he will soon die.” The oni swung again at Kiske and laughed.
Kiske made his first attack. He liked to wait and let his opponent take a few swings at him to get the rhythm of his opponent. This way he could look for openings and weaknesses.
As the oni finished his massive swing with another miss, Kiske responded with a swift slash to the stomach of the monster. It was fast and stunned the oni.
“That was impressive, little one.” The creature stood and showed his stomach to Kiske. There was no mark. “But you are far too weak to hurt me.” He bellowed out a raucous laugh.
Kiske examined his blade, checking to see if he had dulled it scraping against the creature’s stone-like skin.
Wataru shot arrows at the giant monster. With the arms of an oni and the skills of a highly trained human, Wataru was the greatest bowman in the land. It was not just his speed with the bow, which was impressive, but the fact that the bowstring was so tight and strong that no human could ever hope to draw it or string it. But even with Wataru’s strength the oni’s tough skin deflected the arrows.
“Kiske.” Hiten said. Kiske knew exactly what Hiten was asking for. Hiten needed more options; every attack had been futile thus far.
“Wataru,” Kiske said and then pointed his two fingers at his eyes.
Wataru nodded and shot out two arrows into the oni’s eyes. The creature’s skin did not cover his soft eyes and the arrows plunged themselves into his sockets.
“YOU BASTARDS,” the oni screamed out. The monster swung his giant mace around blindly and smashed it into a small straw shack. The attack may have been a mistake. Now the creature was unpredictable. “I’ll eat your livers when I’m done with you.”
“Kiske, that didn’t work.” Hiten said.
“No it didn’t. I can only think of one other solution. You’ll have to take your mask off.”
Hiten found himself shaking his head before Kiske even finished his sentence. There were some benefits to having an oni’s head. Aspects of himself that he would prefer to hide and never attempt at all. Hiten could create the magic of the oni.
He untied the tight bindings that wrapped around his head and let the mask slip off his face. Light rushed in and all of his senses seemed to come alive. He could smell the dander of a crow from up on a hill. The oxen fertilizer buzzed with flies, but most of Hiten’s senses were centered on the opponent in front of him.
Magic was a difficult thing to manage for most creatures; humans could spend a lifetime of study on the craft and still not be able to conjure a simple flame. But magic came naturally for Hiten. He just had to make sure his horns were uncovered for the magic to work. Hiten didn’t actually study any of it at all. Some tricks came as he grew older, not fully developed but effective. Hiten knew which spell to cast.
As the oni stumbled along swinging his mace at anything he could, Hiten made the ground below it soft at first. The creature fell to one knee, confused by the sudden change. Hiten continued until the ground had not just softened but turned into a thick liquid, which the oni fell into up to his neck.
It was done. Hiten released his hold on the ground and it turned back into the solid dirt it had been before, only now an oni’s head poked out from the ground like a hideous spring flower.
The oni began to laugh. “I’ll be out of this eventually, little ones. And when I do I’ll come hunting you all down. I recommend not making any friends either because I will kill them as well.”
“What makes you think you’ll live long enough for that to happen?” Wataru asked.
“You can’t break through my skin. You are too weak and soon I will have the strength to get out of this trap.” The oni laughed its disgusting laugh again.
Hiten had enough of it. He drew his katana and stabbed it into the creature’s mouth, a very unconventional stroke, nothing his uncle ever taught him, but it was enough to silence the oni.
“Was that a new spell?” Kiske asked.
“A variation on the earth shaking spells we all enjoyed as children.” Hiten didn’t like how his mind knew it was the perfect spell to cast. It came too naturally, which meant it came from the oni side of himself. The honorless side.
“Well, it worked.”
Hiten took a moment to look around. While he was casting the magic he had forgotten the mask no longer hung tightly over his face. Now he looked around at the eyes of the villagers and watched disgust and fear fill them as they turned away from him. It would have been better if a fire had burned his face off.
The woman with the comb put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.
Later, when they were leaving the small village, the woman came to Hiten again.
“I… I felt that I… I was rude to you. I meant no insult and I think your face…”
Hiten walked past her without another glance and she was unable to finish her sentence.
Hiten remembered his uncle’s words. “Your face, his arms, and his legs, are all reminders of the stain your father placed on this clan. Our family lost honor when you three were born, but those deformities have their uses, and you will use them to regain our honor. It is rare to be born honorless, but you three do not belong. That’s why your mother chose death. The shame of it was unbearable.”
Wataru gave her a look and shook his head. His brother whispered in her ear even though he knew Hiten could hear it all with his oni ears. “Forgive my brother. He carries himself with so much honor, but he can’t escape the disgrace of his heritage.”
They closed in on the cave they believed their father was hiding in as the cicadas chirped in the afternoon heat.
“Isn’t this too easy?” Wataru asked.
Hiten had the same troubling thought in his mind as they approached.
“I agree,” Kiske said. “Father has always been very good at eluding us in the past. It could be a trap.”
They both looked at Hiten for direction.
“He’s still in there. His scent is strong and emanating from out of that cave. And if he’s in there, we will meet him. Uncle Hotashi has prepared us for this fight all our lives, and we cannot turn back from our oath.”
They walked deep inside until even Hiten’s eyes could no longer see the shadows from the dark. Kiske wrapped his bandage cloths around a stick and lit it to make a make-shift torch.
“I’ve been waiting,” said a voice only a few feet away from them.
A bright red light flashed and a fire sprang up in front of them. Behind the twisting flames stood their father. The oni wore a black beard and had large, striking eyebrows. His skin was red just like his kind, but it was not covered in small lizard-like horns and bumps like other oni. In fact, Father had smooth skin except for the scars on his body. They seemed to be wounds earned in many battles.
“I never had any patience for children,” their father said.
Wataru made the first move. He shot his arrow into his father’s face but the oni’s reaction was remarkable. He caught the arrow in his hand, the point of the shaft only inches from his face.
Kiske drew his sword and swiped at his father’s side. Father ignored this attack as the blade of the katana scraped off his rock-hard skin.
“That’s enough,” Father said. A wave of energy seemed to pulse out of the oni and Hiten and his brothers were thrown onto the floor.
Wataru stood up immediately and pulled back on his bow, ready to shoot. Father waved his hand and flame appeared in the middle of the bowstring and it soon snapped.
“If I wanted my sons dead then you’d already be in your graves. I’ve had plenty of opportunities.”
The comment stunned Hiten and his brothers for a moment.
“I know that you swore an oath to kill me. And I’ll give you an opportunity to do so, but I’ll have my say first.”
Kiske held onto Wataru’s shoulder as Wataru was reaching for his wakizashi, which he kept in case he ran out of arrows or someone decided to charge at him. “He may be right, little brother. You’ve been spying on us haven’t you, Onibayashu?”
“Yes, and don’t call me by my name, damn it. It is rude for children to address their fathers by name.”
“For how long?” Hiten asked.
“On and off for years. I never really stopped watching after the lot of you.”
The thought of the oni they had sworn to kill watching them all these years disturbed Hiten greatly. Was he that blind to his father’s presence? He normally could perceive everything that was around him no matter how well hidden.
“Are you surprised?” Their father sat down by the fire and invited his sons to do so as well. “I swore two things to your mother. Oaths are a funny concept to oni. We either do what we are asked to do or we do not, but to be bound to what you swear because of personal honor… It's a foreign concept. But your mother taught me a lot of things about humanity.”
“What did mother ask of you?” Hiten asked. He didn’t trust his father but the thought of a last request from his mother was too much of a temptation for him. Their mother had been gone for over fifteen years. Hiten was the only one of the three brothers who had any real memories of her: soft eyes, a gentle voice. His mother would sing to him when they were alone. Normally she only spoke in a voice that was slightly above a whisper.
“She asked that I never kill again, especially your Uncle Hotashi. And she asked that I make sure you grow to be good strong men.”
“And why would you have reason to kill our uncle?” Hiten realized he had never been as vocal as he was now.
“You know why. The man killed your mother.”
“No,” Wataru interrupted. “You are twisting things. Uncle Hotashi had to kill our mother because she asked it of him. She was taken by you and sullied. Forced to bear your children. She wanted an honorable end and uncle gave her that.”
Father sighed and took a moment to think out his words. “Your mother was a kind woman; she took all life to be important. When I first met with your mother I came to her disguised as a man. I wanted to know more about her. How her soul could be so gentle in this world where nothing but brute force gets anything done. She realized what I was within a week, and yet she didn’t run from me. Instead she refocused her efforts to show me the good parts of humanity. I grew up believing humans to be nuisances at best and threats to be destroyed at worst.”
“You’re saying Mother did not want to die?” Hiten asked. “Even though you took her from her family. Even though you raped her?”
For the first time the oni seemed angry. “RAPED? Your uncle deserves for his head to be gnawed off.” Suddenly their father seemed to loom larger than ever. An aura of rage filled the room but as soon as it came it also seemed to fade away. “I never took your mother. I was… It wasn’t that way.”
“Liar. You lie.” Wataru was nearly hysterical and Kiske had to wrap his arms around his little brother.
“I could be lying. Oni can lie just like a man. But I ask you this. You know your uncle pretty well now. He raised you, fed you, taught you right from wrong and the honorable ways of the samurai. What would he do if he found out that his little sister had indeed chosen an oni as her husband? What kind of dishonor would stain your family if that had been true?”
The question felt like a jagged rock churning inside of Hiten. There was truth in there. His uncle had spoken with nothing but pure hatred and malice over the oni that roamed his land. If one of his family members were to have married such a creature he would have done everything he could to keep it a secret, even kill his own sister. Hiten looked to Kiske for answers and found only a worried and confused look. They were thinking of the same thing. Wataru had given up on trying to free himself from Kiske’s grip. His youngest brother only seemed contemplative.
“It is something you will have to consider when you leave this cave.”
“What do we do?” Wataru asked. “Do we still kill him? If he’s right—“
“Of course you must kill me!” His father’s voice rumbled through the cave. “You all swore an oath to take my head and honor demands that you keep that oath. It may be the only lesson I can teach you, your mother’s lesson, keep your oaths. Your personal honor demands it. But from now on, when you make an oath, make sure it fits who you are.”
Hiten wanted to drop his katana to the floor. Suddenly he was very tired of killing. Very tired of lessons and honor. If his uncle had been deceiving them all this time then there were so many things that had no meaning.
His father seemed to sense the reluctance in Hiten. “You will keep your oath, son.”
“But you didn’t,” said Kiske, who looked like he was about to win a game of Go. “You broke your own oath with our mother. She asked you not to kill again and you did. You killed that oni’s father, the one we fought with yesterday.”
Father smiled at Kiske. “Yes, you are correct. This oni was a monster that ravaged the lives of humans wherever he took step. There had to be a way to fight oni of his like, but if it couldn’t be me then I realized that it had to be my sons, who are from both human and oni. No one else would have the strength or the will to do such a thing.”
Kiske’s confidence faded as their father continued.
“That’s when I put this plan together. In order to fulfill one oath, to watch my sons grow to be good men, I would have to break my first oath to my wife. I killed the strongest of the violent oni and then led my children to fight his son. I am dishonored now, and for my selfishness I will offer you my head.”
“That isn’t fair,” Hiten said.
“The world isn’t about fair or right. You know this every time you look at your reflection.”
Hiten knew then that his father had indeed kept watch over him and his brothers. No one else but his brothers knew of the pain Hiten had to endure every time he put on his mask.
“If it was fair then I would have raised you and your brothers with your mother like a family. The only thing you have that is pure and just is your honor, and you’ll keep it by holding true to your word. Just know one thing after my death. You will no longer be of any use to your uncle. And…”
His father didn’t have to finish his thought. Hiten realized he and his brothers would then be the only evidence of dishonor to the clan. The truth of it put a weight in his stomach.
Wataru put his hand on Hiten’s shoulder. “Brother, maybe we—”
“Leave,” Hiten said. “The both of you.”
They watched him for a moment and then looked for approval from their father.
“He’s right. You two need not see this.” Father placed large gentle hands on the backs of his youngest sons.
“Wataru, your jokes often seem to go unnoticed by your humorless brothers but know that it is important for them that you keep it up.”
Wataru had no reply, but only nodded.
“Kiske, you certainly must have your mother’s wisdom because you didn’t get those smarts from me.”
“Thank you, father,” Kiske said, his eyes respectfully lowered.
“You keep using them and you three will be invincible.”
“Yes, father. Thank you for having watched over us.”
“All three of you make me proud, and I know that I can go onto the next world having raised three good men.”
When they were gone his father stared into Hiten’s eyes. “There is one more thing. I wish to teach you a trick I know, but in exchange I want you to take a new oath for me.”
“Aren’t you tired of oaths by now?”
His father smiled for the first time since they met. “Perhaps, but this is important to me.”
When it was done Hiten cleaned his blade on a small piece of white cloth, making sure that his katana was not nicked or damaged. His father was courteous enough to change into a form that didn’t have rock-hard skin. Hiten left a small flap of skin at the front of his father’s neck so that the head would not roll off, a beheading worthy of a samurai. Afterwards he used his magic to bury his father in the cave and walked out to meet with his brothers.
Kiske started with the obvious question. “Are we to kill our uncle now?”
“I’m ready to kill him,” Wataru said, almost under his breath.
Hiten gave them a look of calm. He slowly took his mask off, one strap and then the other. His brothers gasped at what they saw.
“He taught you how to pass as human,” Kiske said.
“He’s almost more handsome than me,” Wataru said, his smile returning.
“Illusion magic; useful at times.” Hiten breathed in deeply of the fresh air and threw his mask far away into the forest. “If that is what you wish then I will be with you. We can hunt uncle down and kill him for what he did to our family, but that is not what Father asked of me.”
“What was it? What did Father want?” Kiske asked.
“Something selfish. But I accepted. He wants me to find love. He wants me to know it so that I can know him better.”
Both younger brothers stared at him with open mouths. The prospect of quiet and aloof Hiten searching for love must have been the last thing on their minds.
“But I told him under only under one condition,” Hiten continued. “I told him I would only do it if she could love my true face.” The illusion magic dropped and Hiten knew a red oni’s face looked back at his brothers, a face very similar to their father’s.