Chapter 3: Love Letters

Hair like winter snow
Tall and strong as cedar tree
Love blooms from afar

It had somehow taken him over an hour to compose his poem, but he finally felt that it was complete. Night had fallen, and his family was fast asleep. He would travel back up to the hidden pool and leave this note there for the Oni to find, nobody would even know that he had been gone.

He folded the paper neatly, taking care not to smudge the ink, then blew out the candle on his desk. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, then slowly crept out through the main room and exited his house. The moon was full, bright enough to see by, and so he set off up the path towards the sluice gate.

The undergrowth rustled as Satou crept out from between the trees, his letter in hand as he scanned the area. The Oni was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t in the pool, and she wasn’t nearby, so he quickly made his way over to where she had emerged from the forest the first time that he had seen her. If she had come once before, then it was likely that she would do so again, but perhaps he would have to visit at the same time of day to catch her.

There was a boulder nearby, and so he placed the folded paper on top of it, making sure that it was conspicuous. He secured it with a small rock to prevent it from being blown away by the wind and then retreated to the cover of the woods. He wanted sorely to wait there, to see how she reacted when she read the poem, but if he was not back by morning when his parents awoke he would be missed. Even so, he was determined to return here. He would have to find an excuse to visit the sluice gate again.

He grinned as a devious plan began to take shape. He would walk back down to the sluice gate and sabotage it, simply by replacing the wooden board and blocking the flow to the rice paddies. By morning the stream would have completely dried up and then he would offer to go and solve the problem. The laborers were still planting, and they would be too busy to do it themselves. The rice seedlings would be absolutely fine, it wouldn’t do them any harm. In the time that it took him to return to the gate and release the flow, the paddies wouldn’t have had nearly enough time to risk drying out.

Satou made his way back down to the sluice gate, following the stream through the gloomy forest.

“I just don’t understand it,” his father said as he and a group of laborers stared at the dry stream bed. “Where did the water go? This has never happened before...”

“What’s wrong father?” Satou asked as he sidled up beside him, the laborers muttering amongst themselves.

“It’s the stream,” he replied, taking off his straw hat and scratching his head as he looked up towards the mountain. “It’s dried up, the flow has stopped.”

“I’m sure that I opened the sluice gate properly when I went up there,” Satou replied, shielding his eyes from the midday sun as he followed his father’s gaze.

“Oh, you did. If you hadn’t accomplished your task, then there would have been no water at all. Perhaps there has been a rock slide, or a tree has fallen and blocked the stream.”

“I can go and take a look,” Satou suggested. “I’ve been up there before, I know the way.”

“Very well,” his father replied, “go see if you can find out what the problem is. If there’s a blockage that you can’t clear on your own, hurry back. We may need to send up a team if we are to save the seedlings from drying out.”

Satou set off up the pathway, his heart beginning to beat faster in his chest. His ploy had worked, and now he might be able to catch another glimpse of the beautiful red woman.

The sounds of the waterfall reached Satou’s ears as he crept through the brush, doing his best to avoid stepping on any twigs or rustling any branches as he snuck up to the spot between the two trees where he had last watched the Oni. The sun was at about the same position in the sky, and if she was anything like the rest of the people that he knew, then she would bathe every day. Even the peasants washed themselves regularly in rivers and streams.

He had already restored the flow of water, before long the stream would reach the paddies and his father would know that he had succeeded. He could make up a story about moving some fallen branches or something to justify his dawdling.

He settled in for what might be a long wait, keeping his eyes peeled and his ears alert for the sound of heavy footsteps and creaking trees. The letter was still where he had left it on the boulder, the small stone stacked on top of it. What would she make of it? Could she even read? Her clothing was that of a barbarian or a vagrant, what if she wasn’t literate? He would just have to wait and see.

Only a few minutes had passed before he heard the sound of something large moving through the forest somewhere to his right. His breath caught in his throat and he crouched down low, keeping out of sight as the trees began to creak and rustle.

The red woman strode out from between their trunks, tall and majestic, clad in her patchwork cloak of animal skins again. Her massive puff of white hair was just as wild and unkempt, bobbing as she walked, like a giant mass of unrefined silk. This time however she was carrying what at first glance looked like a large sapling across her back, secured with vines that had been woven together into a thick and sturdy rope. When he looked closer, however, he saw that it was not a tree but a massive cudgel. It was made from black iron, studded with dull spikes, the long handle wrapped in tanned leather. It was enormous, far larger and heavier than any man could have hoped to lift, almost as long as she was tall.

He felt a twinge of fear. Nagao had told him not to come here again, that an Oni was a bad spirit that might eat him, but he had seen no evidence of that so far. What if she just used it for hunting? A girl that large would have to eat a lot to sustain herself, and she had to have gotten those skins from somewhere.

As he watched, she set the cudgel down on the grass at the edge of the pool. It was so heavy that it visibly sank a couple of inches into the ground. Then she flung her cape off and let it fall, revealing her magnificent body as she stretched her arms above her head and yawned widely. Satou could see that she had sharp, almost tusk-like incisors, similar to those of a boar but less prominent.

Once again he was able to gaze upon her womanly figure, her crimson skin glistening with beads of sweat and moisture from the humid air, giving her entire body a captivating sheen. Light and shadow conspired to make her sculpted abdominal muscles jump out at him, the sun reflecting off them and casting them into deep shadow. Despite her impressive brawn, she was also soft and round in places. She had an ample chest, along with thighs and a rump the likes of which he had never seen before, giving her a curvy figure that triggered something deep in his brain. He had never felt such desire for a woman before, certainly not for the Lady Sasaki, whose womanly assets were hidden beneath so many layers of clothing that it might be more fitting to refer to her as an onion rather than a woman.

The Oni looked around the clearing, Satou shrinking back a little to make sure that he was still hidden in the shadow of the trees, and then she turned her head towards the boulder. She hesitated, looking confused, then she began to walk over to it.

Satou’s stomach lurched with excitement as she lifted the rock and picked up the piece of paper. It looked so tiny in her large, red hands. She opened the folded parchment and stared at it for a moment, her eyes lingering on the page long enough that he could be certain that she was reading the poem. She was facing away from him, he couldn’t see her expression, he couldn’t gauge her reaction to it.

He waited for her response, and then he heard the sound of crumpling paper. She balled up the parchment in her hand, turning to glare at the trees, her golden eyes narrowed. She scanned the edge of the forest, searching for her secret admirer, her expression less than welcoming. Satou had hoped that he might be able to emerge from cover and announce himself if she had responded well to his letter, but right now she looked like she would smash him into the ground like a fence post with her cudgel sooner than return his affections.

She marched back over to her cloak, her red skin shining in the sunlight, the movements of her muscular body hypnotizing him. The Oni leaned forward to retrieve the garment and wrapped it around herself, hefting her heavy club and setting off back the way that she had come.

Satou felt deflated. She didn’t seem to like his poem, and he wouldn’t even be able to admire her from his hiding place again, his love letter seemed to have scared her away. He waited a while before moving back down to the sluice gate, ensuring that she wasn’t lying in wait for him somewhere nearby, and then he began to make his way home. He needed to come up with a new approach...

Night fell once more, and as soon as Satou was certain that his parents were fast asleep, he again crept out of his house and made his way back up the mountain. This time he had prepared a new poem for the red woman, this one styled in a more traditional format. Perhaps the Oni just didn’t like Haikus? He unfolded the page and lifted it, reading the calligraphy by the light of the full moon.

I chanced upon you in the pool

The shimmering water a reflection of your beauty

Skin the color of fire and passion

Entranced me, like no one had before

I would weather the blows of your mighty cudgel

For just a moment of your company

That should do it. Surely she couldn’t reject such a heartfelt confession? As well as the poem, he had been collecting wildflowers on his way up the stream. By the time he reached the sluice gate, he had accumulated a sizable bouquet, the varied colors and shapes of the petals standing out in the silver moonlight. He rounded the rock face where the small waterfall drained into the stream and began to climb the slope that led to the hidden pool.

All he had to do was place the letter and the flowers on the same boulder, and she would surely find them. Perhaps he could come up with another excuse to return during the day so that he might see her reaction?

He crouched in his usual hiding spot, peering between the trees and making sure that the clearing was deserted. All that he could hear were the cicadas and the rustling of the leaves in the wind, no heavy footsteps or creaking wood. The Oni didn’t seem to be present, and why would she be? She hadn’t been there the night before either, she only seemed to visit the pool during the day.

Satou emerged from the forest cautiously, the letter and the flowers clasped in his hands, making his way over towards the boulder. He placed the letter on top of it, then crouched, sifting through the wild grass to find a stone with which to secure it. He found one that was suitable and then drew a piece of string from his pocket, winding it around the stems of the flowers and tying them together in a bunch. Just as he was about to place the bouquet beside the letter, a booming voice shook his bones.

“Well, what do we have here?”

The voice was a deep contralto, gravelly and coarse, yet distinctly feminine. Satou winced, slowly turning around to see the Oni staring at him from the treeline. She had been hiding there, just as he had, the shadows of the forest and her camouflaged cloak concealing her from view. She stepped out into the clearing, her red skin shining under the moonlight, planting her cudgel into the soil with a thud that made the ground tremble. She rested her other hand on her wide hip as she stood before him, those yellow eyes peering down at him.

He realized that he was still holding the flowers, glancing down at them, then back up at the Oni. She seemed more suspicious than angry, cocking her head at him like a curious dog. She was even larger up close, almost twice his height. Even from a distance of ten or fifteen feet, he had to angle his head upwards to see her face.

“So you’re the one who’s been snooping around and leaving notes,” she mused, Satou’s cheeks turning almost as red as her skin. “I didn’t know that your kind came this far up the mountain.”

In one swift motion, she stepped forward, leaning down to scruff him like a kitten. She lifted him clear off the floor, his legs dangling as she held him by the collar, narrowing her eyes and examining him. He hung there, frozen solid through a combination of fear and shyness, the bouquet of flowers still clasped in his hands.

“Spying on me are you?” she asked as she watched him slowly rotate.

“N-No,” he stammered, swallowing conspicuously. “Well ... yes, but not on purpose!”

“What are you doing all the way up here, little one? Your place is down the mountain with the rest of your kind. You’re a little far from home.”

“I followed the stream up here, I wanted to see where it was fed from.”