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It was a lovely sunny day for the temple festival. Yata was glad to be out of his heavy coat for once, wearing a lightweight summer yukata and sandals. He didn't get back to his hometown very often since being assigned to the Lupin case with Inspector Zenigata, but right now he and Zenigata were both on mandatory leave, and Yata had taken the opportunity to visit his parents and attend the festival.
He stopped at a food booth and bought some imo-youkan, then wandered through the festival, nibbling on the sweet and following the sound of strumming toward the performance area. All around him, other visitors and families were enjoying the sunny day as well -- little children running and laughing, some family friends he recognized, a mix of people in yukata and other traditional wear with those in western-style clothing.
Yata got in line to buy a charm, finishing off his imo-youkan. It would be good to have some more luck, chasing the Lupin gang. The miko at the stand smiled cheerfully and he got his good luck charm, slipping it into his yukata sleeve. It was nice to hear his neighbors speaking. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this place. It was a bit of a balm on his heart to hear the excitement and just be home.
The music from the performance area sounded closer now. He headed over, listening to the twanging sounds of the shamisen. The player was a man dressed very traditionally in voluminous kabuki robes, wearing a long-nosed tengu mask. A sheathed katana and a seven-feather fan lay beside him, symbols of the tengu's role in Japanese folklore as a birdlike demon which had taught swordsmanship to a famous samurai.
Yata lingered in the crowd, enjoying the music. He wondered if the player was a part of a kabuki troupe that was participating in the festival. The clothing would match. He almost took his phone out to look up the performers, but dismissed the thought. He had come to just enjoy the day.
There was something about the shamisen player, though. The man's presence seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place the impression. Something about those long-fingered hands flitting so deftly over the strings, and the general poise of the player. Yata smiled, shaking his head. He was working too hard. Seeing things where they weren’t. He studied the player, impressed with his technique.
The song ended. The shamisen player gathered his sword and fan, stood up gracefully in a single smooth motion, and left the performance area. He walked like a martial artist, precise and dignified. Yata watched him disappear into the crowd. He was very skilled.
Yata had seen someone handle a katana with that sort of casual grace before, of course, but Lupin and his gang weren’t here. Not in the sticks, not without sending a calling card to make sure Zenigata's attention was on them. And Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth certainly had no other reason to show up in Yata's home village. Did Ishikawa even play the shamisen? He was known to play the flute, but... no, Yata had to be imagining things.
Yata stopped and got a bottle of water, then walked towards the quieter parts of the temple grounds. He knew he was allowed, but he took a bit of pleasure getting away from the crowd. It was truly beautiful here. Peaceful and harmonious.
"Unattended travelers might lose their way,” a deep, smooth voice said right behind him. Yata jumped and turned around. The tengu player stood there, masked head slightly tilted in amusement. His wide robes made him appear enormous, and he still held the red and black lacquered katana sheath in his left hand.
Of course -- tengu were tricksters who might steal unwary travelers away. Yata didn't... entirely think the man was actually a tengu, but he had appeared behind Yata with barely even a rustle of his bulky robes. What was the proper way to greet a tengu again? He'd enjoyed listening to the stories of yokai when he was little, but it had been a long time since he'd tried to plan around meeting one.
Yata relied on his politeness, bowing low towards the Tengu. “I meant no disrespect to you, Sensei. Just a brief respite from the people. Your performance was amazing.”
The tengu bowed slightly in return. "You are too kind. It's good to meet such a well-spoken young man. Is this your home?"
“Yes. My parents live here and I’m visiting briefly,” Yata told him.
“Yes, that makes sense, young Yatagarasu. You’re one of mine, aren’t you?”
Yata blinked. This was not a turn he'd expected this conversation to take. "I, uh... my family name comes from the three-legged crow, yes," he said slowly. How did this man (or demon) know his name? Maybe he'd just asked someone. "There's no closer connection, though. That I know of." Shit. Was he actually talking to a tengu? Had he wandered into some kind of mystical situation? He firmly ignored the echoes in the back of his mind, of a very small crow-haired child running around flapping his arms and pretending to be the messenger of the sun goddess. He wasn't three years old anymore and he definitely wasn't an actual avatar of Yatagarasu. Probably.
The Tengu shamisen player laughed. “I’m merely teasing you,” he said. “Worry not.”
Yata bowed again, trying to hide his embarrassment. Of course the man was just messing with him. But why... "How did you know my name?" he asked, trying not to sound cross and suspicious, not entirely succeeding.
The man laughed again, a more noble laugh, bringing his hand over his mouth, palm out in a slightly disdainful manner. “So suspicious. Perhaps I’m a local that knows your family. Perhaps not. To reveal that would end the game between us.”
Wait -- Yata knew that hand. Well, not from personal inspection, as it were, but those heavily marked sword calluses on the palm and fingers could belong to only one man in modern Japan. Yata's hand shot out and grabbed the Tengu's wrist. "Goemon Ishikawa the Thirteenth," he said firmly, scowling. "What are you doing in my hometown?"
Ishikawa stilled and let out a huff. “I owe the head priest of this temple a favor. He asked me to perform at the festival," he explained. "I saw you and couldn’t resist... toying with you. I suppose I am more the Tengu today than most days,” he said, amused. “I take it that you’ll arrest me now?”
"I should," Yata growled. "You're still a wanted criminal." He felt around in his yukata. He had his wallet with his badge, but no gun or handcuffs. He hadn't expected to need them on his day off. Zenigata-Keibu would be so disappointed. "Uh... on the other hand, if you're not going to cause any trouble here..."
“It appears you still have much to learn, Yatagarasu-san,” Ishikawa said. “But no, it is not my plan to cause trouble for your village. Just fulfilling an oath.”
"That's okay, then," Yata said. He felt weird about just letting Ishikawa go, though. "Uh... I should really still keep an eye on you..."
“You’re welcome to keep your eyes on me,” Ishikawa invited him.
Well... maybe. "Perhaps I could show you around the temple grounds as well?" Yata suggested.
Goemon inclined his head. “It would be good to have a tour with one so knowledgeable. I thank you.”
"It'll be my pleasure," Yata assured him. He let go of Goemon's wrist, a bit awkwardly. "Uh, if I can ask -- I mean, I didn't know you played shamisen. You're very good. Is that something you learned in, uh, samurai training?"
Goemon stilled and carefully removed his mask, tucking it into his robes. “Yes. Playing the shamisen takes focus and careful precision. You must pour your soul into the shamisen, even if you have mastered it. You have to play with serious intent. It’s about technique and heart. It’s necessary to use both in everything!”
Yata couldn't help smiling at how passionately Goemon spoke. The samurai was only a few years older than Yata himself, but the old-fashioned way he spoke and acted was intriguing. "It sounds like those skills are similar to your sword training," Yata ventured, hoping he didn't sound like a complete idiot. He knew a little kendo, but only a very little, as there was no point in trying to use normal sword skills against the Zantetsuken. "Do you also practice other artistic skills, like calligraphy?"
“When I have the opportunity, yes,” Goemon told him. “Everything fits together to make me a better samurai.” He bowed his head slightly. “Forgive me for being so passionate. I suppose today is a good day for it, though.”
"No need to apologize," Yata said. "It's interesting. You clearly care a great deal about what you do."
Goemon nodded. “Yes. It’s important.” He glanced around. “It’s beautiful here. It feels good to be on the grounds.”
"We're very proud of the temple here," Yata said. "It’s a good place and I’ve always felt welcome here. I suppose that’s the point, right?” He folded his arms into the sleeves of his yukata, walking beside Goemon. It felt very natural. "I used to volunteer here when I was a kid, helping take care of the grounds."
Goemon smiled. “I can imagine you with a broom bigger than you, sweeping the grounds.”
Yata laughed awkwardly and ran his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs off his forehead. "Sweeping, weeding, whatever needed doing. What about you?" he asked, curious. "I mean -- not to be nosy but..."
Goemon looked at him carefully. “I started very young. My path was laid before me at birth,” he said. “I’ve trained at temples like this, ones that still held the secrets that I was meant to learn. So I suppose it was similar for me when I was young.”
"That's fascinating," Yata said. "I had no idea there were still... I mean, obviously there are places that keep up the old ways, but I didn't know anybody actually raised kids that way." He bit his lip, not wanting to be rude, but very curious.
Goemon ducked his head. “It’s rare and growing rarer,” he said. “It was a very solitary path.”
"Do you... I mean..." Yata wasn't quite sure how to say what he wanted to ask. "Uh, I mean, obviously you've chosen to continue on that path. But if you had the choice from the beginning, would you do something different with your life?"
“I’m not certain. I could’ve probably chosen at some point but I think this suits me best. But then again, I don’t know any other way to live. But this is more fun, don’t you think?” Goemon asked.
Yata laughed. "That almost sounds more like something Lupin would say. He's always talking about doing things just because they're fun."
“Being a Tengu brings it out in me,” Goemon teased. “But you are right. I joined him to learn from someone who had bested me. Perhaps I have learned something after all,” he said.
"Lupin defeated you?" Yata asked, surprised.
Goemon nodded. “Twice. I’ve also won our battles but he definitely is someone who challenges me to be better. Along with you and Zenigata-san.”
Yata definitely did not make an 'eep' noise and start blushing. Definitely not. "Uh. I... um, thank you?" he said. "I'm... flattered. I think."
“You should be. I don’t give praise lightly,” Goemon told him, smiling. A priest walked by and noticed them.
“Sensei,” the priest greeted Goemon. “Would you like me to take care of your costume?”
“Please,” Goemon asked, bowing. He efficiently took the layers of bulky robes off, leaving him dressed in his pleated hakama pants and his customary sarashi wrapped around his waist. Zantetsuken, still in the lacquered scabbard, tucked into the side of his hakama as he often did.
Yata was being polite and trying not to stare, but, well... Goemon was very fit, and very topless, and a light sheen of sweat only emphasized his sculpted muscles. You could really tell that he was essentially an Olympic-level athlete.
"Uh," Yata said, trying to get his brain working again. "Uh, would you like to go and pray in the temple with me?"
“I would welcome it, thank you,” he told him. They walked together and reached the altar. Goemon reached out and rang the bell, getting the attention of the local kami, then they clapped their hands and prayed together. Yata wondered briefly what Goemon had prayed for but didn’t want to be rude.
They wandered the festival and Goemon glanced over to him while they watched people and children try to catch goldfish. “I suppose I should ask why you decided to become a police detective. Any reason in particular?”
"Well, I wanted to travel," Yata said. "My parents are older, and I wanted to get out on my own and see the world, I guess. Have some adventures." He laughed a little shyly. "The Inspector probably has a more altruistic answer. Helping people, fighting evil, standing for justice."
“I wonder in a different life if you would’ve been like Jigen. I’ve heard of your excellent shooting.”
"Really?" Yata asked, blushing. "I--I mean, I'm definitely not on that level. Jigen's one of a kind."
“He is. But your shot is very good. With practice you will improve,” Goemon told him.
"I, uh, well, thank you," Yata said. "I..." He really hadn't expected anyone in the Lupin gang to think of him as much more than Zenigata's shadow, let alone as a marksman who might someday rival Jigen's absolutely legendary skills. "Uh, thank you," he said again awkwardly. "That's... that's really great to hear."
Goemon gave him a short nod. “Am I keeping you from being with friends?” he asked, glancing around. “If so, I apologize.”
"No, I came alone," Yata said. "I haven't seen most of my friends here since I was assigned to Inspector Zenigata. Most of them are with their parents or children or both. My parents are older and didn't want to walk around this much." He shrugged awkwardly. He didn't want to sound like he was lonely -- it was just that, like Zenigata, he didn't have a lot of opportunity to keep up with people back home.
He nodded. “That makes sense. Still, I did interrupt your leisure time. I’d ask forgiveness but I don’t find that I feel very sorry,” Goemon said with a teasing grin.
Yata laughed. "I don't either. It's... it's been nice." He looked around the festival grounds. "Do you want to play any of the games? Or anything?"
Goemon glanced around. Yata watched him, trying to follow his gaze. “No. This is enough,” he said.
Yata nodded, and they walked together through the crowds. The sun was starting to set, and the golden light made the temple grounds look even more beautiful. They finished wandering through the last of the scenic points and came back near the performance area. A flute player in traditional robes was playing a sad, haunting melody.
Yata stopped to watch and listen for a moment. He turned, meaning to ask Goemon what he thought of the flute player's technique, but Goemon was gone. With a panicked glance, he searched for the samurai, cursing his lack of attention.
Nothing. He supposed he should have expected that. They were on opposite sides, after all. Yata sighed and tucked his hands into his yukata sleeves, feeling oddly disappointed.
That... that wasn't the little folded charm he'd bought earlier. Yata pulled the item out of his sleeve and frowned. It was an arrow charm -- an actual arrow, a fairly short one, with a written blessing tied to it. Arrow charms were usually given at New Year's, not at summer festivals like this one.
But... it was a very thoughtful gift for an aspiring marksman.
Yata smiled, touching the arrow gently, then tucked it back into his sleeve.