I was lounging on my veranda, enjoying the rare peace of a sunny morning, when I saw him. A lone figure, walking with a steady, determined gait toward my home. Ayanokouji Kiyotaka.
"You, go and receive the visitor," I said, not taking my eyes off the approaching boy.
From the garden, Yukinoshita, who had been diligently weeding, flinched. She shot a glance in my direction, her shoulders hunching almost imperceptibly. Then, she lowered her head and resumed her task, pointedly ignoring the world outside our walls as if the man striding toward us didn't exist. A silent, but clear, choice.
I smirked and snapped my fingers. From the shadows of the house, a featureless figure made of folded paper—my shikigami—shuffled out to greet our guest. A moment later, Ayanokouji was led onto the veranda. He was dressed as an attendant, but he carried himself with a composure that belied his station. He presented a rattan talisman, its surface marked with the unique folds and floating lines that identified his master.
"I am an attendant to Lord Gon Dainagon," he said, his voice flat and formal. "May I ask if this is the residence of Master Kyosuke?"
"I am Kyosuke," I replied, taking the talisman and giving it a cursory glance. "What instructions does your lord have for me?"
I went straight to the point. He was dressed as a servant, which meant in this rigid society, he was a commoner. He might have a bit more status working for a powerful man like Fujiwara no Michinaga, but compared to an Onmyoji—a master of the supernatural arts—he was nothing. If Michinaga had been sincere, he would have sent a proper samurai guard, not just a lone attendant. The gesture was hollow.
"Lord Michinaga hopes that Master Kyosuke can assist him with a divination for good fortune and taboos," Ayanokouji said, bowing his head respectfully as he offered a folded piece of paper.
As he stood there, I could practically feel the tension radiating off him. He knew better than to be proud. When he'd first arrived in this strange world half a month ago, he'd seen how quickly his transmigrated classmates were chewed up and spit out by the brutal realities of the Heian period. He knew even the lowest-ranking official wouldn't give him the time of day. He was in a precarious position, barely tolerated by his new master and at constant risk of being abandoned. This commission, he surely suspected, might be a test designed to drag him down into hell. He had no choice but to succeed.
His hand, holding the paper, remained outstretched. I made no move to take it.
"I was suspended from my duties at the Bureau of Onmyo just yesterday," I said, my voice calm. "Please return and inform your lord. He will have to find another Onmyoji."
"This…" Ayanokouji's formal mask faltered, a flicker of bewilderment in his eyes.
I watched as his mind worked at an alarming speed. Is this Onmyoji looking down on Lord Michinaga? Or does he think this commission is a trap? Did he see my master's true motive? This was his first real crisis, and he knew it. If he couldn't accomplish this simple task, he would be discarded as useless. There were countless others who would trip him up without a second thought to take his place. He couldn't afford to fail.
"Lord Kyosuke, this is a request from Lord Gon Dainagon," he pressed, his voice tight.
"And before yesterday, I would have accepted with all my heart," I responded coolly. "But as I am no longer employed, I cannot comply."
Gon Dainagon. The "Gon" prefix meant "Acting." An empty honorific for a man not yet in power. Of course, Michinaga was still a man not to be trifled with, but I refused to be used as a disposable tool in his political games, especially when he couldn't even be bothered to offer a proper payment. Expecting help without any benefits? Even the most predatory capitalists from my old world would be impressed by that level of audacity. After more than twenty years of cultivating my spirit, I had more than enough pride to say no.
I picked up my tea and took a sip, the universal gesture for the conversation is over. "Now, please return and report to your master."
My shikigami guard stepped forward, its paper form rustling as it moved to stand beside Ayanokouji. Realizing he had no way to convince me, Ayanokouji had no choice but to leave. He didn't dare make a scene; he knew nearly every Onmyoji in the capital possessed real, dangerous power. As he was escorted out, his mind churning over my words, his gaze briefly fell upon the girl still weeding barefoot in the muddy garden. A flicker of an idea seemed to cross his eyes before he was gone.
Day 17
With my official suspension, a weight I didn't know I was carrying lifted. Divination, especially crafting the imperial calendars days in advance for every noble house, was incredibly draining. Now, I was free. I spent the day hunting in the mountains. The haul was good—a few wild dogs, which I promptly butchered, pickled, and canned. Yukinoshita, who was helping nearby, worked with quiet efficiency, trying her best to hide the profound surprise in her eyes.
Day 18
I decided to take a trip to Ukyo, the western half of the capital, to observe its feng shui. Compared to the eastern Sakyo district where I lived, Ukyo was a desolate wasteland. The grid of streets remained, but many of the lots were empty or filled with crumbling, abandoned manors. The people here wore tattered clothes, their faces so caked with grime it was impossible to read their expressions or even tell if they were honest citizens or the untouchable hinin class.
I saw a group carrying buckets of murky water from a swamp. A good Onmyoji knew that swamps were the "kidneys of the earth," and their nutrient-rich mud made for excellent fertilizer.
"Mr. Onmyoji, may I ask what brings you here?"
The voice was clear, pleasant, and respectful. I turned to see a girl with a pure and gentle temperament. She was dressed as a peasant, but her large, amethyst-purple eyes held a lively, agile spark that seemed at odds with her quiet demeanor.
"I came to observe the celestial phenomena," I answered concisely.
As soon as the words left my mouth, her big purple eyes sparkled with interest. I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, the classic reaction of an anime character hearing something cool. It was then that I noticed several burly, dark-skinned men watching me from the gate of a nearby manor. I was standing too close. This wasn't a friendly chat; the girl was a scout, sent to see what a well-dressed stranger was doing on their territory.
"That…" she began, but I was already turning to leave.
I heard her faint voice but chose to ignore it. The social hierarchy here was absolute. If you didn't want to attract trouble, it was best to be reserved. I glanced back one last time at the manor's gate, noting the crest above it—a graceful, arc-shaped black bird. Information like a simple weather forecast was a priceless and potentially fatal commodity in this era. A peasant girl like her was better off just obeying her village chief.
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