One day, while Genji was disturbing the dog heads by tickling their ears during their deep sleeps, a small rabbit sprung into the clearing with masterful silence. She glided through the air, landing only to sniff for her next meal. Genji noticed her from the corner of his eye. This was the first time he had seen another animal cross the threshold of this most dangerous part of the forest.
“Hello,” he said.
The rabbit leaped backwards, obviously startled. “You cannot catch me demon, so do not even try,” she said, quivering.
Genji hated that he was perceived as a threat. He was constantly worried that his altered appearance would scare, not just his enemies, but the animals he hoped to protect. To him, it was only a matter of time before he would change his appearance and purpose to splendor.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to frighten you. What do you think of the great God, Haetorigusa,” Genji asked.
“I think it is a corrupted and sick monster,” the rabbit responded.
“I think you are correct. All these magnificent creatures attached together with me, and none of them have the vision I do. In fact, I think they resent me,” said Genji, condescendingly.
“It sounds like you resent them,” said the rabbit.
“I wouldn’t go that far, I just don’t think they have the capacity to sing the song of the Gods the way I can. They continue to slow my progress,” said Genji.
“That is the definition of resentment,” said the rabbit. She had become perfectly still, apart from her twitching nose. Genji sat atop the tangled, currently inactive, monstrosity.
“What is your name,” asked Genji.
“I am Atsuko,” the rabbit said bluntly.
“Atsuko, what do you want from your life?” Genji stepped down from a bed of vines, towering over her.
“Nothing of excess. I would like to eat today and stay alive. I would like to make it back to my family.” Atsuko took a few steps backwards, towards the edge of the clearing.
“I don’t understand how that can be enough. Why would you want to be ordinary and forgettable when the respect of many lies in great accomplishments and vision,” asked Genji.
“I have no experience with the many. I can only stay true to a few and hope for peace,” Atsuko said, her tone growing more impatient.
Genji took another step towards her. “There is wisdom in what you say but it lacks confidence. I am in search of someone I respect with the will to achieve great things.” Genji began twirling his finger. A vine mimicked his movements On the rich soil surface of the clearing. Atsuko scurried to the tree line.
“It was scary for me in the beginning too, but with the power I am learning, I will be able to protect my people for millennia,” Genji said, persuasively. He had an air of confidence and mischief that made Atsuko’s blood run cold. All she had to do was turn and run as fast as she could, like she had done 100 times before, but her awe of Haetorigusa kept her paused.
“All I see is pain,” said Atsuko.
“Pain is temporary and necessary to be a God,” responded Genji. “It requires sacrifice, but I can show you how. We could show the whole world what true power could be.” He skipped closer to Atsuko, causing the vine to skip along behind him.
“I don’t want that. I just want to live in peace,” Atsuko said, firmly.
“I really don’t mean to scare you,” interrupted Genji. “I think you could see what I see if you trusted for only a moment,” said Genji. He sat on the ground, cross legged, to get closer to eye level with Atsuko.
“I do not trust you and I am leaving,” she said. Her awe of Haetorigusa waned. If she stayed any longer, she knew her fate would no longer be her own. Atsuko turned to run into the safety of the dark forest.
“I know when you get a taste of this, you will want to journey with me. We will bring great bounty to this land, and you will give your family immense pride,” encouraged Genji, yelling after her.
Atsuko paused again and spoke over her shoulder, “I want no part of your trickery.”
Genji shot up. At the same time, Haetorigusa came alive. The mass sloshed and squelched, violently. The animal heads howled and screeched to the heavens.
“Its not a trick,” growled Genji.
Atsuko leapt out of the clearing, disappearing from Genji’s sight. He stood by, as Haetorigusa continued to rage with a sound so loud, it could be heard in far off lands.
Atsuko reentered the clearing. She had lost her free will.
A multicolored vine, much like Genji’s, had gone down her throat and was lifting her towards Haetorigusa. The wolf heads whaled and spewed sap across the scene.
“I will keep you safe,” said Genji. “I will stay right here with you and guide you.”
The song of the Gods was louder than it had ever been. Genji could feel the possibility of limitless power right in front of him. He tried to catch his breath amidst his manic state, but his thoughts raced to the point of exhaustion.
His aspirations had been limited. There was no reason to keep this power in the secluded mountains of his people. The whole world was going to want to see and benefit from what Genji was becoming. He sang and danced as Atsuko was slowly swallowed into Haetorigusa.
“I love you, Atsuko. I cannot wait for you to understand,” Genji screamed amidst the tremendous and crushing noise of the God’s melody.
