Then he thought about Nicholas。 He did not envy him but then there was no envy in Fukashigi's heart； Had there been 。。。 Fukashigi shrugged his thin shoulders。
Who knows？ He thought。 But there was excitement inside him again。
Now he thought that he could see clear down to the bottom。
The floor was full of silty hills and fish without colour wove the pattern of their changeless lives through the mud and rocks and sand。
This section of the Straits of Shimonoseki had been haunted for seven hundred years or thereabouts。 Ever since the infant emperor Antoku Tenno perished here in a spectacular sea battle along with every other man； woman and child of his Taira clan at the hands of the Minamoto。
There were frequent reports of sightings of the strange Heike … another name for the Taira … crabs which have human faces on their carapaces and are said to house the kami of the long…dead defeated warriors。
They cannot； it is said in legends； find peace and thus； on fog…blanketed nights； fishermen swear they can see odd spectral fires upon the unquiet waters and they refuse to launch their boats； even when the fish are running； for during these terrible nights； the Heike would rise from the deeps； interfering with passing ships； pulling unwary swimmers downward to their deaths。
And it was to help assuage these lost and unhappy kami that the Buddhists built the temple of Amidaji there。
But now； Saigo thought； it is more than ever a haunted place； this Dan…no…ura； for an outpouring of my own soul lies dead and defeated in those waters； e to join the joyless Heike in their endless journey： there would be no burning fire； no golden lotus hearth for either。
He could see the perfect face lying on the bottom undisturbed as if there were no intervening waves； perfect only now as the features posed themselves in death。 A traditional heroine： the pious daughter； the loyal wife； heart filled with sacrifice； all her grievous sins expunged。
It was good； he told himself。 It was right； it was just。 A death decreed by history。
What else could he have done？
He felt the shortness of breath and the burning tears threatening to destroy his dead eyes with their pitiful flow and he automatically began to chant the Hannya…Shin…Kyo： Form is emptiness； and emptiness is form 。。。 What is emptiness … that is form 。。。 Perception； name； concept and knowledge； are also emptiness
。。。 There is no eye； ear； nose； tongue； body； and mind。。。
In darkness there is sin； in darkness there is death。 Sin negates spirit； and the killing of beings without spirit can only be looked on as an act of charity。
But； but； but … how could there be love where sin exists？ This was a question that had tortured him for years； more than any other one thing； shaping his life。 And as he asked himself the impossible question again； he pounded his closed fists against his forehead and cheekbones； seeking to destroy that within himself which remained perversely recalcitrant。 He could no more drive the memory of her from him than he could relinquish his name and it was just this terrifying obstinacy within himself which had driven him to the drugs。 Besides； he believed now that they enhanced his powers。
But surely it had been Nicholas Linnear who had brought him to this sorry state。 If it had not been for him； he would not 。。。 they would not 。。。 there would not。。。
Lights blazed against his closed eyelids as he beat himself but even they would not drown out the visions of the gentle pale fish at play in the straits。 And； O Amida！ How the wind howled on that night； snow swirling down like lace curtains； disappearing upon the changeless waves with the black sky so low that neither Kyushu nor Honshu was visible。 Alone in the rocking boat。 Did the howling increase at the heavy splash？ Did the Heike know they were about to receive another unrepentant sinner？ Unrepentant they must be or why else lie upon the darkest nights as unappeased kami？
Ghost lights upon the straits； just as the tales told； and he recited many prayers； as many as he knew； repeating them without surcease until the prow of the boat touched the wooden quay at Shimonoseki and he stood on solid land； shaking and wet with sea…water and sweat despite the snow and the chill north wind。
Still today he could hear that eerie howling like demons calling him back； to plete terrors that had somehow been left undone； circling within his head like black kites descending upon a bloody carcass。
At last； his breath heavy with the aftertaste of psychedelics drenched in so much sweat that he might have just e from the bath； he fell into a sodden sleep filled with dreams and； worse； the trumpeting echoes of dreams。
Nicholas dreamed： of land's end。 And out from the near shore； the very end of it at least； arched a bridge of wood and stone very much like the one at Nihonbashi。 And as he started across this bridge； he saw that to either side there was nothing but a hanging mist。 He turned round； looking back the way he had e； and was astonished and not a little afraid to see that the strange mist had obscured the land from which he had e； so effectively that he forgot which land that was as well as not knowing towards which land he was bound； as if the mist stirred about inside his head as well as without。
When he was approximately half way across； he thought he could discern a sound； dim and muffled by the mist； but as he drew closer he became more and more convinced that it was the sobbing of a woman。
In time； he was able to make out a darker shape within the mist which； as he approached； coalesced into the form of a young woman。 She was tall and willowy and she wore a clinging dress of white silk。 It was； he saw now； dripping with water； as if she had just climbed out from the sea； which he supposed this bridge spanned。
She stood with her slim back against the bedewed balustrade； weeping into her hands； and such was the power of her lamentations that Nicholas felt pelled to move closer。
When he was only a few steps from her； he heard her speak： 'Oh； you've e。 At last I At last I I had given up all hope！'
'Pardon； me。' His voice reverberated within his chest as if it were a cathedral…like cavity。 'My lady； I do not think that I know you； yet you seem to have recognized me。 Have you； perhaps； made some error？'
As he said this； he moved his head back and forth in an attempt to get a clear view of her face for； as it was now； he could not truly say whether she was known to him or not。 But this seemed quite beyond his present capacity。 Between her long dark hair； spread like a sea…fan and strewn with small shells； and the long…fingered hands she continued to press to her face； she remained hidden from his gaze。
'No； there is no error。 You are he whom I have sought for all these years。'
'Why do you weep so bitterly； my lady？ What ill has befallen you？'
'A most dishonorable death； sir； and until it is avenged my spirit must wander … wander here。'
'I do not see how I can be of help to you； my lady。 But if you will allow me to see your face。。。'
'It will do you no good to look upon me；' she said so sadly that he felt his heart must break。
'Then I was correct。 I do not know you。'
She said nothing and thus he did not know what her answer should be。
'Take your hands away from your face；' he said to her。 'Please； my lady。 I cannot assist you otherwise。'
Slowly； as if most reluctant； her long fingers drifted down through the mist and he gasped。
Where the features of her face should have been … eyes； nose； lips and the rest … her skin was as flat and smooth as an egg。。。
'… God； Nicholas； what is it？'
His chest heaved as if he had just struggled to finish a marathon； and sweat glistened across bis face like rime。
Justine's face； lined with worry； hovered above him； her long hair draped on either side； an electric curtain； a tenuous link。
'What happened？'
'I don't know。 You cried out in your sleep …'
'What did I say？'
'I don't know； darling。 Nothing recognizable； at least not in English。 Something like； oh' … her brow wrinkled in thought …'minamara no tat…something。'
'Migaurari ni tatsu？'
'Yes； that's it。'
'Are you certain？ Really certain？〃
'