Chương 84: Chapter XXII Verse II — Examination of the Departed

Galan approached the coffin, kneeling to get a good look at Asaka's features. The scent of herbs and cypress filled the air, but there was no odor of decay. She still looks fine, he thought. Guess the body of a half-yookai has enough mana to preserve itself for a long time. So this is why they're so quick to burn their dead. He fully pushed the lid back. Unable to handle the sight, Tadamaru let out a choked whimper and retreated to the crowd. But Umiginu stood rigid, a single tear falling as she wiped it away.

Asaka was dressed in a simple white burial robe, wrapped right over left to signify that she was deceased. Her head was pointed north, mimicking the final resting posture of the Buddha as he entered Nirvana, serving as a compass to guide her soul toward enlightenment. On her forehead was a triangular piece of white cloth, meant to guide her spirit and suppress any lingering desires that might turn her into a monster. Guess she's going all in on the human burial ritual, Galan noted. Still, it wouldn't have worked.

Her sister is already part of the worst kind of monster by now. A small pilgrim's bag was on her chest, containing six coins for the ferryman of the spirit river, ensuring that she would be taken on a boat ride instead of swimming with the other souls. Beneath her hands lay a small protection dagger, meant to ward off evil spirits. How ironic, Galan mused. Interlaced with her clasped hands was a string of prayer beads.

His mindcast brushed against Umiginu's memories, finding images of Asaka praying to Yakushi Nyorai, the medicine Buddha. A true human imitator to the very end. She even adopted the very religion that oppressed her kind in the past. On Asaka's legs were simple leggings and straw sandals, tied tightly for the journey to the afterlife. But something was missing. There was no ritual rice offering beside the coffin and no spirit tablet with a posthumous name.

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"Hey, Umi," Galan said, looking back.

"Where's the final meal?" Umiginu's eyes flickered with pain.

"We did not include it. We couldn't risk a prolonged ceremony. Every hour she remains unburned is an hour the ghosts might strengthen their hold." She gestured to the baskets of berries and roots piled around the stage.

"Instead, we offered her the bounty of the mountain. The food she loved."

"And the spirit tablet?" Her voice tightened.

"No priest would come. Even those who knew her kindness feared the ghosts' corruption. The rest could not bring themselves to bless a 'monster' in the eyes of their religion." Wow, she's a better nun than most of them, Galan thought, turning to Asaka. Now, to confirm the cause of death. Examining her from the top, Galan noticed that her raven-black hair has been washed and combed meticulously, each strand woven into two intricate braids that rested on her shoulders. Umi did a good job.

But I wonder if she did it to hide skull fractures. He sent his mindcast into Umiginu's memories. The noise of the crowd faded, replaced by the sun-dappled silence of her home from earlier that afternoon. She sat on a high ridge, Asaka's body resting across her coils. She ran a bone comb through her sister's tangled hair, whispering of their childhood.

"Hey, Asaka… do you remember the autumn twilight we spent overlooking the grand valley? You asked me to weave fallen leaves into your hair to make you a princess." A broken chuckle escaped her.

"You asked me if the sky was blushing because the night was coming to kiss it." A single tear fell onto Asaka's pale cheek. Umiginu froze, then wiped it away with her thumb.

"Ah… forgive me. I promised not to stain your journey with my rain." She steeled herself and continued her agonizing labor of love. The memory faded. The raw ache settled heavy in Galan's chest. It's horrible that she's willing to force herself through all that… He took a deep breath. But I suppose that's part of the healing process… His emotions turned inward, feeling the ache of longing still pulsing like a dying hearth. Too bad it didn't really work for me, though.

He leaned close to Asaka, his gaze settling on her pale lips. They glistened with the ritual "water of the last moment," ensuring she wouldn't go thirsty during her final journey. A kind gesture… but the water can't hide the tint beneath. Under the sheen, a deep, bruised violet stained her lips.

"Umi. I need to touch Asaka's body to confirm her cause of death. Is that okay?"