During the reign of Emperor Kammu, vast mult.i.tudes left behind the land of the Manyōshū and poured into Kyōto.
These people raised the capital, multiplied in number, struggled for dominance, paid reverence to the G.o.ds, made entreaties to the Buddhas, painted pictures, composed poems, clashed swords, and no sooner had they set fire to the city than they rebuilt it, multiplied once more, toiled unceasingly at the wheels of commerce, diverted themselves with the pursuit of knowledge, and revelled in an age of peace, but were terrified at the arrival of the four Black Ships, and in their confusion once again burned down the city, and with “Westernization” as the slogan of the day, paid no heed to their past mistakes but once again rebuilt the city, pa.s.sed through the war years, came to tears on the cusp of laughter and laughter on the cusp of tears, and thus it has been up to the present day.
Twelve hundred years have pa.s.sed since Emperor Kammu established the seat of his imperial authority.
Presently, over 1.5 million people live in the city of Kyōto.
But hold, a moment.
Of the warriors and n.o.bles and monks who run amok through the narrow confines of the capital in The Tale of the Heike, one-third are foxes, and another third are tanuki. The remaining third are the tanuki merely masquerading as humans. This being the case, it is obvious to see that The Tale of the Heike is not a human tale, but really a tale of us tanuki. Young and old, great and small, be ye proud to declaim this truth far and wide! It is not our history that rides the coattails of the history of mankind, but their history that clings to ours!
...or so some old windbag once claimed, in a feeble attempt at rewriting history.
Naturally, he was a tanuki.
He was so hirsute that he resembled less an old, venerable tanuki than a fluffy ball of fur rolling about behind the Amida Hall in Chionji, and the memory is still fresh in my mind of how several years ago, he really did turn into a motionless ball of fur and died a poet’s death.
Perhaps this stuff about The Tale of the Heike was no more than the fancy of a short-lived furball, but nevertheless it remains a fact now more than ever that the grounds of the capital swarm with tanuki. At times they hobn.o.b with the humans, dashing this way and that. Tanuki are always seeking to imitating humans, as if reprising background roles in The Tale of the Heike.
Withal, there are some tanuki who claim that the history of this city was created by tanuki and humans, paw in hand.
But hold, a moment.
Since time immemorial, the skies above the palace have been our domain. We soar through the firmament as we please, displaying the supremacy of the tengu far and wide, raining contempt and spittle wheresoever we please. The rabble who crawl along the surface of the earth below are but subjects at our beck and call. Humans chunter on about their accomplishments, looking smug as you please, as if the whole of history was written by their paltry, paper-thin efforts. An absurd proposition! Laughable! Even had the tanuki lent them a furry hand, what could the likes of humans hope to accomplish? Magickal creatures that we are, disasters and catastrophes are ours to command. The fate of the realm lies wholly within our hands.
Look up to the mountaintops that surround the city. Fear us! Honor us! We who abide in the skies!
...or so someone once haughtily declared.
Naturally, he was a tengu.
Humans live in the city, tanuki creep along the ground, tengu soar the skies. This triumvirate has co-existed since the capital was established in Heian, and so the wheel continues to turn. Tengu lecture tanuki, tanuki impersonate humans, humans fear and venerate tengu; tengu spirit away humans, humans make tanuki into stew, tanuki catch tengu in their traps; round and round it goes. Nothing interests me more than watching this wheel spin round. I myself am a tanuki, but not content with that lowly station, I find admiring the tengu from afar and imitating humans to be great fun. And that means there’s never a dull moment to be had in my hectic, exhilarating life.