interlude-a: the 8-headed beast

Yousha trailed behind Sumanai as he stalked through the dark corridors of their temple. The walls were bamboo, as was the floor and ceiling. Little light graced the hallway as only a couple of torches sat on the walls. As Yousha passed each one, it was snuffed out, dying the world behind her in blackness. A coldness nipped on her heels, and a heat embraced her as she trailed after the man she had sold herself too.

One turn took them up a steep flight of stairs. As they approached the top the sounds of a rumbling crowd met them. It caused Yousha’s heart to flutter and her body to swoon. Such attention, such love, such praise; even she, in all of her cynicism, sometimes thought that Sumanai was the buddha he claimed to be.

And when they stepped out of the gloom and into the light of the moon, the wave of cheering and applause hit her like a tsunami. A thousand thousand souls stood in a massive field, yelling and cheering and clapping for their leader. Sumanai, Yousha noticed, allowed himself a thin smile at the sight. He loves attention as much as I do.

They stood on a platform, Sumanai and Yousha. Behind them was another platform supported by wooden planks. Sitting in the center of that rise was a massive buddha statue. The statue’s right hand was pointed upwards with three fingers, the index and thumb making an “O” shape. The left was extended outwards, as if it was hoping to shake someone’s hand. It was beautiful though old, with vines and moss creeping along the copper. Standing to both sides were eight individuals, each wearing bellowing cloaks and black wooden tribal masks.

Sumanai strode to the center of the lower platform and raised his hands to silence the crowd. Today, Yousha noticed, he did not dress as the shinigami. Instead he wore a black kimono with flashes of silver and golden lightning weaved into the sleeves and trip. A golden sash tied it all together, matching his hair. He was elegant and personable. Almost Kingly, to Yousha’s eyes.

When the crowd was silenced Sumanai lowered his hands. “Welcome, brothers and sisters. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives. Welcome to the gates of paradise, where freedom and enlightenment is but one step away.

“You are all here because you recieved the invitation to join a cause. You men and women, trained in the arts of war and religion and merchandising, are here because you know in your heart of hearts that you have been wronged. Here in the Rukongai, we await the day of our reincarnation. We await the day until we can battle fate once more, in the scant hopes of being reborn in a higher plane of life.

“But there is no higher plane of life, my family. We stand here on equal ground, separated by one wall three meters thick from those we call gods. And the shinigami hide behind this wall afraid. Afraid that one day we, who they call lost and loitering, may tear that wall down. The priests and monks preach that we must wait to become shinigami, that we must be reborn or have special talents to do so. But why must that be? Why must we believe in a world where a single wall separates man from god? Can any of you answer for me this simple question?”

“NO!” the crowd chanted, and Sumanai smiled wider.

“No indeed. We, who can fight as well as them, are forced into poverty. We, who can sell and make and forge as well as them, are condemned to lawlessness and slavery. We, my brothers and sisters, are told that we must obey the gods who are no better then us! What is the meaning of god? What is the meaning of that wall? What is the meaning of this world?

“There is no meaning! There is no reason that we should live in a world of suffering. There is no reason that we should bow to the aristocrats and nobles who see us as worthless as dirt. And as of today, we will no longer stand for it. I present you, my friends, the Eight-Headed Beast.”

Sumanai rose his arms and the sky rumbled with thunder. Eight beams of light descended from the heavens, striking the eight masked men standing on the higher rise. Though the majority of the souls below could not comprehend it, Yousha felt the immensity of their power. Some were as strong as lieutenants, while others higher than captains.

“I give you all a chance to claim what is yours. A chance to tear down this unjust society, to kill death itself so that we may become the true devas of Soul Society. The future is now. Are you ready?”

“THE FUTURE IS NOW!” The crowd began to chant. “THE FUTURE IS NOW! THE FUTURE IS NOW! THE FUTURE IS NOW!”

Sumanai closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Yousha smiled. His tongue is as silver as always.
END