Hyakkimaru's Birth
Book 1 of the Dororo Novel Series
Toriumi Jinzō
Part 1 - Kurama
Chapter 3
Jukai's father was named Tanbano Hisamaro. He served as a court physician for lower-class samurai and public officials. The Tanbano family had originally emigrated from China as poor commoners, but their famous ancestor, Tanbano Yasunori,1 had been a renowned physician.
Jukai's father Hisamaro was appointed to the role of court physician; he was the oldest son of the third generation of the branch of the Tanbano Clan that had settled in Japan. Hisamaro was not the direct descendant of Tanbano Yasunori; in fact, his mother was only distantly related to him. It was a mystery to Jukai how his father had managed to attain his relatively high position despite his weak familial claim.
Court physicians were under the direct control of the Imperial Court. They provided medical treatment to government officials, researched new cures, and trained new doctors. All court physicians had assistants, a license to practice and a rank equal to the ritsuryō2 administrative position. It was his father's duty to teach general medical knowledge, stitching wounds, massage, and the incantation of spells and blessings to student doctors.
Servants were attached to a court physician's retinue to take care of administrative tasks. The students studying to become doctors were treated partially as servants and partially as apprentices. Positions in a court physician's household were rarely limited by rank or gender; Jukai met many female doctors of common birth during his own training as a physician.
Hisamaro had an army of assistants; he was passionate about medicine and research. In 1407, the eleventh year of the Ōei Era, the twenty-nine-year-old Hisamaro traveled to China with his main disciple, Chin Uiro, to perform research on Greek medical texts. The following year, Chin Uiro produced many of these texts in Chinese translation.
The Chin name originated in the Yuan dynasty. His ancestor, Chin Sōkei, fled and sought asylum in Japan during the foreign invasion of China. He requested that the ceremonial name of Chin be given to all of his descendants, so Uiro was a Japanese man with a Chinese surname.
Chin Uiro's translations generated envy among China's Imperial Court physicians; they wanted both the texts and the doctor that had produced them. The fact that Hisamaro managed to secure them for the Japanese Imperial Court drew the shōgun's notice; after this, he was given authority to research and practice without oversight or interference. He wasn't even required to perform further research or make new discoveries, but he never stopped trying to advance medical knowledge.
Hisamaro also worked hard on Uiro's behalf; he wanted him to be treated well, not just because he was a remarkable physician, but because he was just as committed to advancing medicine as he was. The two of them worked tirelessly toward that goal and scarcely ever spoke of anything else.
The year after he was granted freedom from interference by the shōgun, Hisamaro married Seiko, the daughter of Fujiwara Kamonojō. She was a beautiful woman with a keen mind; she and Hisamaro got along well from the start. Less than a year after their marriage, Jukai was born. His given name at birth was Tajumaru.
Hisamaro started treating the illnesses and injuries of the poor laborers working to transport lumber along the river free of charge. Seiko served as his eager assistant. Over time, she became skilled at mixing medicines and making poultices. A court physician was only supposed to treat members of the court, so Hisamaro and Seiko had to keep their activities secret. It was forbidden for any court physician of the Imperial Palace to treat common people unless expressly ordered to do so.
Tajumaru understood why his parents were willing to take such a terrible risk after he was old enough to go with his father to the neighboring villages on his rounds. His father loved his patients deeply and they trusted him with their lives. Without him, they would have had no one to tend to them at all.
Tajumaru started learning about medicine when he was five years old—its techniques as well as its long history. He had a passion for reading and picked up written Chinese quickly, but he had no special interest in medicine even after he reached adulthood. He didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and become a doctor. He would have to become a court physician, but he had even less interest in politics than he did in medicine.
Even though he didn't want to be a doctor, he admired his father tremendously. He took decades of research and put it to practical and beneficial use. No matter where he went, his work was necessary and in high demand. He also had the ability to advance medical research and was highly respected by both his patients and the Imperial Court.
It was clear to Tajumaru that his father also despised politics. As his son grew up, Hisamaro’s mild cynicism turned to bitterness. He never complained much, but he disagreed, sometimes publicly, with how the other court physicians practiced medicine. He acquired rare and forbidden medical texts from China, including Greek writings by Hippocrates.
Hisamaro possessed a sincere passion for learning that his son would never forget. He often read late into the night until his eyes went bloodshot, taking in knowledge letter by letter and word by word. He talked to Seiko and Tajumaru about all the wonderful things he learned every morning.
"This book was originally written by a Greek doctor almost two thousand years ago," he said. "It spread through Egypt and Persia and finally made it here. Every doctor in the world has heard of it. He wrote at least seventy-two scrolls. I find his approach to medicine and my own very much the same. He puts no faith in magic spells or curses. 'Compare illnesses to other illnesses,' he says. 'The world of the divine and the world of human beings rarely touch. All sickness has a natural cause. Understanding that cause is the key to curing the illness.'"
Tajumaru struggled to understand what his father meant at the time; he hadn't truly grasped his father's medical philosophy until many years later. His own medical philosophy in adulthood was similar to his father’s, but not precisely the same. He agreed with his father and Hippocrates on the nature of illness, but he believed in curses. He also believed that, like illnesses, all curses had a cause.
The court physicians of China, Japan and Korea all learned that illnesses were caused by curses as a matter of course. Few of them doubted the ancient writings about curses and blessings that they studied as part of their education. Hisamaro had rejected the ideas in those writings vehemently, but he still held on to a lot of ideas that were part of ancient Asian medical tradition, mainly out of necessity.
During the reign of Emperor Tenmu (672 - 686), the central government adopted the onmyōdō divination system based on Taoist principles. This system was used to read the future in order to best protect the Emperor and the nobility from disaster. Practitioners of curses became more common after this system was adopted; both blessings and curses were used to safeguard the stability of the country.
The development of magic and medicine moved together from that point on. Even now, old superstitions continued to plague medical research and study. Whenever illness struck, most people's first instinct was to pray, but Jukai didn't know if prayer was truly instinctive or just learned behavior. People seemed to have more faith in the gods than they did in medicine. If medicine invented a cure for every illness, would people stop believing in curses?
Eradicating illness was impossible, of course. For every disease that was cured, another one sprang up in its place. It seemed like people would always cling to their superstitious beliefs.
Hisamaro rejected all belief in blessings and curses for his entire medical career, but Jukai's beliefs were slightly different. According to his master, Yōda, some people had a hidden capacity to heal that medical knowledge could tap into and exploit. That capacity or capability wasn't based on superstition; Jukai had seen the results of Yōda's work with his own eyes.
***
A year passed since Jukai first picked up Oniwakamaru. Jukai took great pains in watching over him and keeping him healthy. As the winter turned to spring, it became Jukai's first priority to make sure that he didn't catch a cold or any other illness that might weaken his constitution. He had no limbs or senses. He didn't even have a mouth to complain with, so it would probably be difficult to notice that he was even sick until it was too late to treat him. There was no easy way to tell if he caught a fever or if he was in pain.
Jukai took the baby's temperature at dawn and dusk every day. He taught Sakuzō to recognize the signs of a sudden-onset fever. He also taught Sakuzō to check Oniwakamaru's breathing by examining his nasal cavity, mouth and throat. Jukai checked his heartbeat by putting his ear against the baby's chest.
Once, Sakuzō noticed slight nasal secretion that might indicate distress to the trachea and lungs. He had five children of his own; he remembered the symptoms of the sinus infections they'd suffered through as infants.
When Sakuzō pointed this out to Jukai, Jukai praised him. "You're a great nurse. If you ever do get to go home, that's what you should do."
Sakuzō laughed happily at the idea.
"Let's see if he can make it to age three," Jukai said. "He may not have any arms or legs, but the rest of him seems healthy enough."
Sakuzō looked at Jukai with a slightly worried expression. "Will...something happen...when he turns three?"
"They say that the soul of a child at three is the same as it is at age one hundred," Jukai said. "If he makes it that far, we might start to notice some changes."
Sakuzō appeared hopeful. "Do you...think he'll be able to hear? Or speak?"
"Maybe."
"How do you know?"
"He was given to us by the god of Iwakura Shrine. I don't believe that the god would just abandon him this way."
Sakuzō nodded. "I'll pray for him. I want...I want him to recover. Quickly."
From that day on, Sakuzō woke up early and headed to Kurama Temple to pray. Kurama Temple was sacred to Tamon-ten,3 Kannon,4 and the Buddha defying the demon king Mara;5 offerings for all three gods could be given there.
Sakuzō took his milk-feeding container and replaced it with a blue-painted china pitcher with a long stem that was given to Jukai by Namitarō. The pitcher was a holy artifact and was quite rare. Its value would increase over time, provided Sakuzō didn't damage it. Jukai's family was noble, and even they would find such a pitcher expensive and difficult to acquire.
When Jukai explained its value to Sakuzō, he chuckled. "Oniwakamaru is...a noble?"
Oniwakamaru grew noticeably as the months went by. His bones seemed strong and his appetite remained large. One day, while Sakuzō was changing a diaper, Jukai asked him to make a small cart that could be used to take Oniwakamaru into the forest.
"Huh? Why?"
Oniwakamaru hadn't been outside at all since Jukai had brought him home. Sakuzō was clearly worried about his safety.
"I want to bring him to a place with plenty of sunlight," Jukai said. "I'm not sure if he can feel hot and cold, but he should gain some familiarity with environmental conditions regardless. We might find out more about his ability to perceive the world around him if we take him outside."
It had been a year. Jukai was curious about any potential changes that could be taking place.
"We should try to raise him as a normal child. Normal children need fresh air and sunlight. All life comes from nature. Who knows? The natural world may give him the strength to keep on living."
"All right."
Sakuzō worked on making a wheeled cart until late that evening. The base was about two shaku6 wide, with four wheels and a flat, sanded bottom. It was a simple contraption, but it would serve. He also added a long handle to make it easier to pull.
The next morning, Sakuzō spread out a soft cloth over the bottom of the box, then placed Oniwakamaru inside. Another blanket covered him completely, except for his head. Both Sakuzō and Jukai wanted to shield Oniwakamaru from unkind eyes.
Sakuzō picked up the front handle of the small wooden handcart he'd made and started walking. The wheels of the cart whirred as they moved.
Jukai squinted at them as he saw them off. Sakuzō looked happy pulling the baby around in the crisp autumn air. "Oniwakamaru, fill your lungs with Kurama's fresh air," Jukai said. "Your future depends on it. Grow like the cedar trees on the mountain, strong and tall towards the sky."
Tears welled up in Jukai's eyes as he prayed. He felt like a mother hen watching a hatchling leave the nest for the first time. He was overjoyed that Oniwakamaru would at least get to experience the wonders of nature.
Sakuzō wheeled his handcart to the far side of a grove of cedar trees. The river that flowed down from Mount Kurama was directly in front of him. He brought the handcart close to the riverbank and sat down.
The crisp autumn breeze blew across the water. Tall trees that grew all over the mountain extended their branches to the deep blue sky. Sakuzō felt like the trees were embracing him and Oniwakamaru. The forest was lush and full of life, even in the middle of autumn. The lives of a few humans seemed trivial compared to the lives of all the monkeys, deer, birds, insects, trees and plants that surrounded them.
At the end of the path leading down the mountain, Kurama Temple was faintly visible. The temple was guarded by a gate carved with the figures of the four Deva Kings.7 At the beginning of the Hōki Era (770 - 781), the most prominent disciple of the monk Ganjin Wajō8 had a prophetic dream. He immediately saddled his white horse and rode into the mountains to this very spot. He believed that the place had been blessed by Tamon-ten, the guardian god of the north. Fifteen years later, in the Enryaku Era (782 - 806), a series of temples and shrines were built in the area, including this one.
Sakuzō faced Kurama Temple and clasped his hands together in prayer. He wanted to bring the handcart closer to the temple, but pulling it over the wet ground was difficult. He prayed with all his heart for his wife, his family, and Oniwakamaru.
Even peaceful Kurama had been touched by the shadow of war. Mount Hiei was close by; that mountain was home to temples and shrines of the Tendai Sect of Buddhism. The area was crawling with soldiers who opposed the sect for religious and economic reasons. Many of them wore hoods over their faces and tall wooden clogs in order to better navigate the landscape. Seeing the shadows of these soldiers holding their naginata aloft was terrifying. Most of them served the shōgun or the Imperial Court. Whenever there was a problem at a temple that it was unprofitable for the Imperial Court to solve, they sent out these warriors to wreak havoc on the countryside.
Sakuzō turned away from the temple and took Oniwakamaru home. He was far more concerned about the baby's safety than his own.
Wild mountain monkeys leaped from tree to tree overhead. Sakuzō looked down at Oniwakamaru. He had no fear of the monkeys or naginata-wielding samurai; he didn't even know they existed. He couldn't even feel the wind blowing off Kurama or see the reflection of the sun on the surface of the river.
Every day after that, Sakuzō took Oniwakamaru within hailing distance of Kurama Temple and prayed. He prayed for Oniwakamaru to gain the ability to see and hear and speak.
Jukai decided to perform acupressure therapy in an attempt to determine how much Oniwakamaru could sense and feel. Sakuzō was initially against it. "He's just a baby," he said, grabbing Jukai's arm to hold him back.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt him," Jukai said. "I learned these these techniques in India. They're a form of treatment. They'll definitely tell us something about his condition. They might even help him recover his hearing."
Sakuzō was still worried. Oniwakamaru had no way of signaling that he was in pain. Sakuzō explained his concerns to Jukai in starts and stops.
"The body has vital points," Jukai said. "Channels and meridians are connected by the bloodstream. Pressing on these channels and meridians stimulates blood flow and promotes good health. Oniwakamaru can't exercise on his own. If we don't perform this therapy, his circulation will be poor. Acupressure is the treatment that will prevent that."
Sakuzō had limited understanding of physiology and medicine. He trusted Jukai's knowledge of these things, however. If Jukai was convinced that acupressure therapy was good for Oniwakamaru, he wouldn't oppose it.
Jukai massaged the area outside the baby's eye sockets, the center of his torso, his forehead, the third eye point above the bridge of his nose, the space between his temples and his ears, and the front and back of his skull. Oniwakamaru had no eyes or ears, but he drooled during the therapy a lot more than normal. That was the only difference that Sakuzō and Jukai noticed.
It was difficult to tell if the therapy was effective or not. There was no change worth noting in Oniwakamaru's development for more than two years.
Most three-year-old children started displaying signs of their future personality. It was entirely in keeping with such a development pattern for Oniwakamaru to show some of his capabilities after he turned three, but nothing about his demeanor or abilities changed. It certainly looked like the god of Iwakura Shrine had given him the strength to live, but the god's mercy didn't seem to extend beyond that. Jukai hoped that acupressure might help restore his hearing, at least, but he remained deaf. Praying at Kurama Temple also accomplished nothing. It seemed that nothing Jukai and Sakuzō tried was effective.
"Maybe we're overthinking this," Jukai said. "We were wrong to hope for more miracles when his being alive is miraculous enough. Or maybe the god is actually cruel, and only preserved his life because of some capricious whim."
Jukai started to doubt that he'd ever heard Yōda's words on the riverbank three years before. Maybe that wasn't his voice at all. It could have just been my imagination. Maybe the wind that day was so strong after the strange storm that I hallucinated a voice?
All of Jukai's hopes were fragile. He stopped using acupressure every day, though Sakuzō still went to Kurama Temple daily to pray. Jukai looked around at all the tools and supplies Namitarō had brought him and despaired. None of them were of any use. It seemed that he and Sakuzō would have to raise Oniwakamaru exactly as he was, lacking limbs and senses.
Oniwakamaru’s internal organs seemed to be developing normally, at least. He was able to eat more substantial food: rice gruel, fresh vegetables and fish had been successfully integrated into his diet. His appetite remained ferocious. But nothing about him really changed.
Ordinary toddlers could speak and walk and display their emotions openly; they laughed and cried and showed childish wonder and curiosity. But Oniwakamaru couldn't even make a sound. He was like a living doll that moved without feeling or expressing anything. No, not like a doll: even dolls had the personality of an expression given to them by their creators. Oniwakamaru's expression was fixed and could not change, like a statue carved in stone. His face was unsettling and creepy, even to Jukai and Sakuzō.
Oniwakamaru was a blank-faced doll that could eat.
"Will he even survive to adulthood like this?" Even imagining the possibility of that was frightening to Jukai. Oniwakamaru as an adult would be an insensate lump of flesh and skin. He'd be no more able to fend for himself than a fish's egg. Even tadpoles hatched and grew limbs eventually, but that would never happen for him.
As the days passed, Jukai's hopes for Oniwakamaru's future faded. Sakuzō modified the cart he used to take Oniwakamaru outside three times in as many years, but aside from that, absolutely nothing about their living situation changed.
As Jukai's hopes were consumed by despair, he remembered his father's dreams and ideals. Hisamaro's dying wish had set him on his life's path; this was the result. Perhaps all of his wishes for the future had been nothing but the product of an old promise and blind ambition. He finally accepted that they wouldn't amount to anything in the end.
Three years without a change. It seemed likely that things would stay like this forever.
Translator's Notes:
1 Tanbano Yasunori was a real physician who lived sometime in the 900s. He wrote the first Japanese medical book on acupuncture. Hisamaro and Jukai appear to be fictionalized, however.↩
2 Ritsuryō: Criminal, administrative and civil law codes (forming the basis of ancient East Asian law; these codes originally came from China).↩
3 Tamon-ten: Tamon-ten is one of the Seven Lucky Gods in Japanese folklore. He protects holy places and places where Buddha expounds teachings. He is sometimes called the God of War and often referred to as the Black Warrior, protector of the righteous, and the Buddhist patron of warriors. He is also a Deva King (see below) who guards and represents the northern cardinal direction.↩
4 Kannon: The proper Japanese name of this Buddhist god is Kanzeon Bosatsu, in English often called a goddess of compassion and mercy.↩
5 Mara: In Buddhism, Mara is the demonic celestial king who tempted Prince Siddhartha (Gautama Buddha) by trying to seduce him with the vision of beautiful women who, in various legends, are often said to be Mara's daughters. In Buddhist cosmology, Mara is associated with death, rebirth and desire.↩
6 Two shaku: 60 centimeters; about two feet.↩
7 Deva Kings: The Four Deva Kings are Buddhist gods, each of whom is believed to watch over one cardinal direction of the world. In Japanese, these Deva Kings are called Tamon-ten (north), Kōmoku-ten (west), Jikoku-ten (east), and Zoujō-ten (south). The Hall of Four Heavenly Kings is a standard component of Chinese Buddhist temples. ↩
8 Ganjin Wajō (688 to 763): The monk responsible for spreading Buddhism in Japan. He is known as Jianzhen in Chinese. ↩
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