Asleep in Nara, Part 11 (Crossing and Dwelling)

This entry, set in Nara, Japan, continues the story of Sebastian’s Faustian deal with the demon Persephone.

A quick synopsis for new readers (spoilers for previous chapters, obviously):

Sebastian, an embittered American studying abroad, has stumbled into a ten-year deal with Persephone, a crossroads demon. The terms are simple: she saved his life, and he owes her ten years of service killing other demons. Sebastian’s role is to assume the mantle of Charon, Hell’s hitman. Persephone hasn’t told Sebastian how she selects her targets or why.

Persephone’s weapon of choice, a katar, is demonic in origin. Death by the blade immediately sends a soul, including demons’ souls, to Hell. But there are rules, of course. A demon cannot kill with the katar, so a human wielder is necessary. That’s where Charon comes in.

While Sebastian is new to this role, Persephone has been at work for centuries. She was in Nara, Japan, on a vacation of sorts (whatever those look like for demons), and instead she recklessly got the previous Charon killed. His name was Ken, and he was more than just a partner to her.

Persephone, enraged, unbalanced, is on an ill-advised killing spree. She bears no attachment to Sebastian and in fact resents him. He was a convenient means to an end: vengeance against the demon who killed Ken.

But vengeance didn't sate Persephone’s bloodlust. She gets back to work. Now she has learned that Ken’s ashes have been interred by Inoue, a rich man living outside of Nara, and what’s more, she has reason to believe the man is also a demon. Persephone has resolved to tie up loose ends.

We left Sebastian and Persephone, having just passed through a crossroads, sneaking up to Inoue’s property in the dead of night.

I want to subtitle this one Crossing and Dwelling, and it deserves a theme song. I don’t trust you all not to click on that link immediately, though, so I’ll insert it at the appropriate moment. :)

I’ve also decided to go back and subtitle all the previous sections, which I can’t do on the entries themselves, but I can do here and going forward.

As always, you can find the previous chapters here:
Part 1 (Meet Sebastian Pilgrim),
Part 2 (A Flirting Fail),
Part 3 (The Nameless Dead),
Part 4 (The Hunt),
Part 5 (A Fine Night for Murder),
Part 6 (Death and Rebirth),
Part 7 (Devil’s in the Details),
Part 8 (Habits, Old and New),
Part 9 (Adrift)
and Part 10 (Went Down to the Crossroads).

The stone fence was for decoration, not security. Persephone went over it first and waited on the other side for Sebastian to land. The fall on the other side was farther, but one of them could easily boost the other back over.

Sebastian let out an inadvertent whistle as he surveyed the property. Persephone smacked him. They scrambled over to a nearby azalea bush and crouched behind it. Sebastian’s jaw was hanging wide open. He couldn’t believe someone was wealthy enough to put a house on this much private property in Japan.

“How loaded is this guy?” Sebastian whispered.

“Very,” Persephone replied. Her eyes searched the overhang of the roof for any security cameras.

Sebastian, meanwhile, was distracted by the ornate, glazed roof tiles. They were pure black and rounded, in a traditional Japanese style. His eyes wandered from the roof to the manicured lawn. He could just make out the edges of the Japanese garden behind the house.

“See any cameras?” Persephone asked him.

“Huh?”

“God, you’re so useless,” she replied. “Come on.”

They crept toward the house. While Sebastian was distracted by the large windows and the two walls made almost entirely of small sections of framed glass, Persephone was peering through all that glass. She inventoried the furniture in the room, the steps, the landings, the likely density of the stone fireplace--as much as she could see.

When she was satisfied no one else was around, Persephone tried the door. Locked.

“Couldn’t be that easy, of course,” she said. She pointed to the corner of the house, and Sebastian followed as she sneaked farther along.

They came around the back of the house, and Sebastian nearly let out another amazed whistle. He choked it back and fell into a coughing fit instead. He dashed away, back toward the front of the house, before Persephone could hit him again.

Persephone rolled her eyes and pressed forward into the garden behind the house. There was a small pond with a meditation pagoda in the middle of it. An earthen footpath led out to the pagoda. Small bonsai trees and shaped shrubs decorated the pond’s perimeter. Beyond the pond was a small graveyard that Persephone preferred not to linger on. She could just make out a few small headstones, and there, among the graves, a man was kneeling.

Persephone crouched low and began to circle around the pond. She intended to approach the man from behind. On the way around, Sebastian rejoined her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Persephone glared, put a finger to her lips, and then pointed to the graveyard.

Sebastian saw the man kneeling there and nodded. He held out his hand, expecting the katar. Persephone knew exactly what he was asking for, but she ignored him. They moved in silence.

As they rounded the pond and neared the graveyard, Persephone could just make out the kneeling man’s mumbled words. Sebastian heard him a moment later. The man’s back was to them, but his greatly receded hairline was all too obvious, despite how short he kept his hair trimmed. He was whispering a prayer to the dead.

As they neared the unsuspecting man, Sebastian feared that maybe Persephone had not brought the katar at all. His thoughts raced. His palms grew slick with sweat. If she hadn’t brought the blade, then what were they doing here? The man up ahead must be a demon, right? But he’s praying, Sebastian thought. Since when do demons pray, and who do they pray to?

Persephone, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to Sebastian or to his mounting anxiety at all. The praying demon confused her just as much as he did Sebastian. She couldn’t figure out what concern a demon could possibly have for the departed. Maybe he’s not a demon at all, she thought. Still, she approached. She needed to know.

She wasn’t sure she would be using it yet, but Persephone reached under her skirt for the katar. Relief washed over Sebastian as he recognized the blade in her hand. His anxiety had grown to such heights that he was determined to kill this man whether he was a demon or not. He felt like an addict. That moment of panic when he thought his murderous desire would be denied was enough to push him to desperation. He needed a fix. He needed this man--or demon--dead.

Sebastian lunged for the katar.

He caught Persephone by surprise. His hand latched onto her forearm, and she snatched her arm away, slicing Sebastian’s palm open. As she stumbled, Sebastian was atop her in seconds. He punched her repeatedly in the face and pinned her arm to the ground.

Persephone, shocked Sebastian would even think to attack her, took a moment to collect herself. She wanted to kill him, but not before he suffered. As Sebastian’s fist rained down on her, she caught it with her left hand and squeezed until the bones cracked. Sebastian let out a howl and fell over backwards.

As Persephone stood and approached Sebastian, a blast a blue fire cut between the two of them. Persephone jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding the flame. A second blast collided with her and sent her tumbling toward the bank of the pond.

“Foxfire!” Persephone shouted.

If Ken had been there, he would have understood how much that one word communicated. Sebastian, however, didn’t even know what the hell foxfire was, much less what this demon using it implied

In that moment, as Sebastian flailed about, shaking his bleeding hand, and as the man, Inoue, rotated his hands in front of himself to summon another fireball, Persephone realized what a terrible mistake she had made in not taking her new recruit’s training more seriously. So far in Nara, she had mostly been bored. She had been complacent. That complacency had already gotten Ken killed. Now, it might cost her her own life, too.

Demons, you see, are powerful beings. They can possess humans. They have exceptional strength and speed. But they are basically bound by the same physical laws as humans.

Then there are soulbound demons. Their powers vary, but they are all formidable.

Soulbinding is a ritual in which a demon fuses with the human soul of its host, so the demon’s and human’s fates are intertwined. A soulbound demon can never leave that host, and if the body dies, then the demon returns to Hell. With the abilities they gained, however, the trade-off could be more than worth it.

Persephone hadn’t expected to encounter a soulbound demon, and she had exactly no time to explain any of this to Sebastian. She scrambled onto her feet as another blue blast of foxfire screeched toward her. She barely evaded it, and a crater was left in her wake. She rushed toward Sebastian.

“You cut me! You cut me!” he shrieked.

Persephone smashed the flat of the blade against his forehead, wrapped her left arm around his waist, and flung the both of them to the ground. A fireball sailed just over top their bodies.

Their cover wasn’t very good, however. They had landed behind an azalea bush.

“Yokoso!” Inoue shouted before setting the bush alight.

Persephone grabbed Sebastian’s arm and fled to the next bush. Soon, it was aflame, as well. She dashed for a nearby boulder, Sebastian in tow.

“Persephone, is it?” Inoue shouted, catching a glimpse of the katar.

So much for a low profile, Persephone thought.

Her cover depended on keeping the blade concealed and making sure none of her intended victims got away with enough time to talk. She thought she had done a fine job of that. Then again, she had probably been too careless in the Yakuza fight. Any number of those humans could have actually been demons, and they could have spread news of her presence in Nara. She cursed her own recklessness. Next time Barnabas sends you on vacation, girl, take the goddamn vacation.

“I’ve long been curious about this weapon of yours, Persephone,” Inoue said. “Is it true what they say? Is it forged with the blood of Telemachus?”

He fired another blast at the boulder Sebastian and Persephone hid behind. The heat ate into their skin, but Persephone didn’t dare leave their only shelter.

“But I hear you’re trying to prevent his return,” Inoue continued.

“If you’ll stop shooting for a minute,” Persephone shouted, “I’d be happy to arrange a meeting! You can ask him all about the blade in Hell!”

Another fireball came in response. Sebastian was shaking. He looked woozy. Persephone knew she had to act fast.

“Did you ever learn stop, drop, and roll?” Persephone asked Sebastian.

“What?” he asked. He was quivering. His vision blurred.

“Stop, drop, and roll,” Persephone repeated.

She grabbed him by the shirt and waistband, clenched her fingers, and dashed free of the safety of the boulder. Persephone spun, planted her left heel, and launched Sebastian through the air. His arms waved frantically as he arced through the air with all the grace of a frightened stone.

Inoue dodged to his left and prepared another fireball. He hurled it at Sebastian, who was consumed by fire head to toe. Sebastian writhed on the ground, feeling the flame eating through his clothes, singeing his flesh.

As Inoue prepared another fireball, Persephone struck. She rushed at the demon, katar at the ready, and took aim at his hands. In one clean swipe, she took them both off. The fireball he had been summoning sputtered to a quiet death on the grass.

Persephone landed on top of Inoue and reached back to punch the katar into his shoulder. She intended to pin him down until she could retrieve Sebastian to deliver the finishing blow.

Sebastian, meanwhile, finally comprehended Persephone’s advice and rolled away. He didn’t think to roll back and forth and was fortunate to have picked the direction of the pond. He crashed into the water with a sloppy splash and gasped as the soft, cool water washed over him.

As Persephone went to strike Inoue, he swung his arm at her, hitting with enough force to send the katar flying. She watched it flip end over end into the pond.

Inoue thrashed, forcing Persephone off of him. She fell onto her back. Inoue got to his feet and charged her, planting a foot into her side. Persephone flew through the air, her back smashing into a headstone. The stone cracked, and her vertebrae dislodged. If her host wasn’t already dead, she most definitely was after that injury.

Persephone lay there, trying to work her hands deftly enough behind her to press her spinal column back into shape. The body would heal so long as she was inside it, and she could move if she really had to, but it would be a lot easier if she had a fully-functioning nervous system.

Inoue approached. He stopped and hovered over her.

“I understand your reputation now,” Inoue said. “I’m honored to have been maimed by one such as you.”

Persephone grunted in response. Her fingers poked one vertebra back into position. She let out a gasp.

“And to think you’re not even soulbound,” Inoue continued. “Imagine how powerful you could be.”

“I’m good just like I am, half-breed,” Persephone replied. She snapped a second vertebra into place. Only two more to go.

“Half-breed…” Inoue chuckled. “Arrogance and prejudice will be the downfall of our kind. Didn’t Barnabas teach you that?”

Again, Persephone grunted. The third vertebra was back in place.

“Oh, I forget. You’re just a soldier. Leave the big thinking to the ideologues, right?” Inoue sighed. “Why did you ever fall in with Barnabas in the first place?”

“He’s practical. He has a plan,” Persephone said. “With him, we can be free.”

“You’re brainwashed. We don’t need his visions, his plans. We don’t need his freedom. We’re as free as we can be already,” Inoue said. “We can live whatever lives we want, if only we teach each other a little restraint.”

“You’re another hopeless romantic, Inoue,” Persephone said, trying to buy more time. Her fingers couldn’t quite reach the last vertebra. “A naive libertarian.”

“Libertarian?” Inoue paused. He laughed. “I’m happy to live and let live, yes, but I’m more a separatist, really.”

He reared his foot back again. Persephone popped the last vertebra back into place and felt the nerve endings in her lower body ignite with pain. Her spinal cord unobstructed by displaced bone, she could focus on healing it. She had full control over her legs again. She rolled to the side, just barely dodging Inoue’s kick.

Inoue, anticipating the kick that never landed, lost his balance and fell. Persephone was on top of him again. She grabbed his shoulder and dislocated it. She punched his hip until it cracked. She dislocated his other shoulder and then stood up, planting a heel into his knee cap. Unlike her, a soulbound demon wouldn’t recover so quickly. She fell back on top of him, her face right in front of his.

“You shouldn’t have used the foxfire,” Persephone said. “I didn’t know you were soulbound… Hell, I didn’t even know you were a demon until then. Now I know I don’t even need the katar to finish you off.”

“Without attacking you, though, how would I have ever met my end?” Inoue asked.

Persephone turned her head sideways, perplexed.

“I’ve spent centuries paying penance,” Inoue explained. “My name is Gagoze. And I want to be done with this life. I’ve suffered enough.”

“Suffered? You haven’t seen Hell recently, have you?” Persephone asked.

“No, but I deserve that prison.”

Persephone paused. Despite having completely incapacitated Inoue, she still expected him to find some way to fight back. Demons were known for their persistence and resourcefulness. Inoue--Gagoze--however, was something different. In place of defiance, he exercised acceptance.

“Why were you praying over the graves?” Persephone asked.

[ Song Link]

“Once upon a time, I took the lives of the innocent,” Inoue explained. “A young boy discovered my plot and bested me. In a fit of rage and hoping to garner more power, I underwent the soulbinding ritual. I thought I would return empowered, emboldened. But I was not sustained by my rage. Quite the opposite. I succumbed to guilt and shame. I’ve been trying to make amends with the dead ever since.”

Emotions. Another effect of soulbinding. Persephone understood, though--at least somewhat. She wasn’t the average demon. She had felt attachment. She had known love. She had suffered loss. It ate into her, cored out her heart, and left a void no rage could ever fill. But she didn’t know how else to cope.

Persephone gazed around the graves of the nameless dead. No words etched into their stones. No flowers. No real memory of their lives. Just a smooth granite surface illuminated by the light of a dozen burning azaleas. She pictured Ken interred in one of those graves. There was nothing left of him now but ashes. Her body shuddered.

“Thank you,” she said, “for giving Ken an honorable burial, given the circumstances.”

Inoue looked confused. “I don’t know any of their names. Was he someone special to you?” He motioned his head toward the farthest stone.

Persephone nodded. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. Sounds, not syllables, choked out of her throat. Her cheeks felt hot, wet.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” She sucked in her lower lip, shaking as her teeth bit in. She tasted blood.

“Death visits us all,” Inoue said weakly. His breathing became more shallow.

“I should have helped,” Persephone said. “I could have helped him!” The tears poured now. They streamed down her face and burned her lip. She winced and fell on Inoue’s chest. She didn’t wipe her eyes, even as she choked up, sucking back salty trails of sticky spit. She buried her face against Inoue.

Without another word, Inoue reached up, crooked his arms around her, and pressed his forearms into her back, clutching her quaking frame against his chest. He tried to whisper some comfort, but didn’t have the breath left.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his breathing gave way. Persephone’s tears flowed harder. Inoue’s soul left his body, descending into Hell. His arms loosed from around Persephone, and she punched the ground beside him. She crawled away, disgusted with herself. She knelt at Ken’s unmarked grave, wrapped her arms around the headstone, and let free a long, keening wail. Her body convulsed against the stone.

Sebastian emerged from the pond, katar tightly in hand. He made no effort to conceal his approach. His eyes landed on the deceased Inoue, and he was glad the man who had set him on fire was dead, but his soul yearned to deliver a killing blow. Persephone’s body, curled up, gripping at the headstone, seemed to invite his attack.

Sebastian lifted the blade overhead. He imagined the satisfaction of finally vanquishing the demon who had stolen his life. He wanted to see that last shocked look in her eyes as he sent her back to Hell. He plodded toward her, and over the sound of her own wailing, Persephone didn’t hear his approach.

For the first time in six hundred years, since she had climbed out of Hell and back onto the terrestrial plane, Persephone prayed. In hushed whispers, she picked up where Inoue had left off.

Sebastian, shocked into inaction, stared for a long time. Unsure of what to do, he stood still and listened. His lips started moving, too. His brain didn’t process the words; they just came to him and spilled out. He lowered the weapon and heaved a sigh into the flamelight. He loosened his grip and let the katar fall to the ground. Still, Persephone didn’t notice.

Sebastian turned and walked away.

Bathed in the light of unintentional funerary pyres, Persephone mourned. She tore her clothes. She swore at the moon, earth, and sky. She screamed bitter goodbyes at that wrathful void set in the place where her heart once beat. She fell down and cursed the callous dawn that would force her to stand back up and find some way to carry on again.

***[The photo is my own, taken along the entryway to Wakamiya Shrine in Nara Park]