The look on Kouryuu’s face revealed that he thought very little of the people, or of the wolf, but he didn’t say anything as he settled down further, waiting for his master to continue the story.
“So they began to hunt the wolf,” Koumyou continued. “Of course, the beast ran, hid, and watched from the shadows when it could. The men were talking, angrily, gesturing. One of them sounded different than the others, softer. ‘Certainly,’ the wolf thought, ‘this must be one of the good people my master talked about. I must figure out how his voice works.’”
Kouryuu was watching with narrowed eyes, already having guessed the next bit. "The beast took it literally?"
Koumyou nodded. “He had not the experience to understand it any other way. He attacked the man with the different voice, feeling the vibrations of his scream, and still not understanding the meaning.”
“So the wolf was a man-killer. He was responsible.”
“Oh, he was. He knew what life and death were, but he had also been told by someone he trusted that this was how truth worked. So he pressed on. Hiding in the shadows, he heard whispers about how the man with the different voice had been kind. He remembered his master telling him stories of kind women. When he tried to get to the voices of the women, he heard whispers about the evil beast that kills innocent women. He remembered that the blind man told him that children were the true innocents of the world, and so he tried to find answers in them.”
“But that’s stupid!” Kouryuu said vehemently.
Koumyou took a drag on his pipe and exhaled slowly, waiting long enough for Kouryuu to have time to think before he asked the question, “Is it?”
“The wolf was killing people just to figure out what a good person was, because an old, dead guy said that they sounded different. The people decided the wolf was evil. They made him evil. The old man made him...” the boy trailed off, suddenly confused.
“The blind man inadvertantly made him ‘violent’. The villagers made the wolf ‘evil’ by not bothering to check that he really had killed the blind man. The wolf made himself into a demon by becoming obsessed with his desire.”
“So whose fault was it?”
“They were all just living,” Koumyou replied. “and now the story is over, and you must sleep.”
Kouryuu made no objection, burrowing down under the futon and turning to face the wall.
After his charge had settled into the pillows, Koumyou stood and walked outside.
“Certainly you have better things to do than lurk outside people’s homes, Ukoku?” he murmured into the darkness.
“I couldn’t possibly resist the chance to hear such depressing stories. Although are stories about killer beasts really the best bedtime material for young boys?”
“He needs to know about such beasts.”
“Ah. And the wolf, did he ever find what he was searching for?” Ukoku asked, eyes bright under the moon.
Koumyou paused; exhaling smoke into the air and watching the tendrils float up and dissipate. “Of course he didn’t. The truth he wanted to find didn’t exist.”
Ukoku snorted. “Yes, it did. It existed in the screams of all those men, women and children he killed. He came closer to an answer each time he took a life.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. The man may not have said what the wolf thought, but the beast created his own truth from the words. The true merit of his kills was not their voices, but their lives."
“We create our own truths from the perspectives we take from what goes on around us.”
“Exactly. It is foolish to believe that anyone means what they say,” Ukoku said.
“Then one should never say what they mean, and instead speak around the matter. It’s easier to find a truth when it is in a fence of words, rather than when it is part of a forest of words”
“There is no truth, other than death. Even the dumb dog in your story was smart enough to figure that out,” Ukoku replied.
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Ukoku repeated, drolly. “So how long before you create a wolf?”
Koumyou didn’t look at the man he still considered, for now, a friend. Instead he chose to star out past the treeline where the moon shone almost white in the sky. “I think I already have," he said. Unspoken, he would count himself lucky if he didn't create two.
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ninetydegrees
Wolf at the Door 3/3
on 2007-11-18 11:15 am (UTC)“So they began to hunt the wolf,” Koumyou continued. “Of course, the beast ran, hid, and watched from the shadows when it could. The men were talking, angrily, gesturing. One of them sounded different than the others, softer. ‘Certainly,’ the wolf thought, ‘this must be one of the good people my master talked about. I must figure out how his voice works.’”
Kouryuu was watching with narrowed eyes, already having guessed the next bit. "The beast took it literally?"
Koumyou nodded. “He had not the experience to understand it any other way. He attacked the man with the different voice, feeling the vibrations of his scream, and still not understanding the meaning.”
“So the wolf was a man-killer. He was responsible.”
“Oh, he was. He knew what life and death were, but he had also been told by someone he trusted that this was how truth worked. So he pressed on. Hiding in the shadows, he heard whispers about how the man with the different voice had been kind. He remembered his master telling him stories of kind women. When he tried to get to the voices of the women, he heard whispers about the evil beast that kills innocent women. He remembered that the blind man told him that children were the true innocents of the world, and so he tried to find answers in them.”
“But that’s stupid!” Kouryuu said vehemently.
Koumyou took a drag on his pipe and exhaled slowly, waiting long enough for Kouryuu to have time to think before he asked the question, “Is it?”
“The wolf was killing people just to figure out what a good person was, because an old, dead guy said that they sounded different. The people decided the wolf was evil. They made him evil. The old man made him...” the boy trailed off, suddenly confused.
“The blind man inadvertantly made him ‘violent’. The villagers made the wolf ‘evil’ by not bothering to check that he really had killed the blind man. The wolf made himself into a demon by becoming obsessed with his desire.”
“So whose fault was it?”
“They were all just living,” Koumyou replied. “and now the story is over, and you must sleep.”
Kouryuu made no objection, burrowing down under the futon and turning to face the wall.
After his charge had settled into the pillows, Koumyou stood and walked outside.
“Certainly you have better things to do than lurk outside people’s homes, Ukoku?” he murmured into the darkness.
“I couldn’t possibly resist the chance to hear such depressing stories. Although are stories about killer beasts really the best bedtime material for young boys?”
“He needs to know about such beasts.”
“Ah. And the wolf, did he ever find what he was searching for?” Ukoku asked, eyes bright under the moon.
Koumyou paused; exhaling smoke into the air and watching the tendrils float up and dissipate. “Of course he didn’t. The truth he wanted to find didn’t exist.”
Ukoku snorted. “Yes, it did. It existed in the screams of all those men, women and children he killed. He came closer to an answer each time he took a life.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. The man may not have said what the wolf thought, but the beast created his own truth from the words. The true merit of his kills was not their voices, but their lives."
“We create our own truths from the perspectives we take from what goes on around us.”
“Exactly. It is foolish to believe that anyone means what they say,” Ukoku said.
“Then one should never say what they mean, and instead speak around the matter. It’s easier to find a truth when it is in a fence of words, rather than when it is part of a forest of words”
“There is no truth, other than death. Even the dumb dog in your story was smart enough to figure that out,” Ukoku replied.
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” Ukoku repeated, drolly. “So how long before you create a wolf?”
Koumyou didn’t look at the man he still considered, for now, a friend. Instead he chose to star out past the treeline where the moon shone almost white in the sky. “I think I already have," he said. Unspoken, he would count himself lucky if he didn't create two.