text: Jiro paused in his ablutions. The morning sun shone through the trees.
  
  "I still think I should have killed him."
  
  "He treated me well, in his way."
  
  Jiro grunted. He had no patience for religious fanatics or for those of any other kind. Besides, the man had insulted a friend and deserved to die. Privately he resolved that should the opportunity present itself again, he would not hesitate.
  
  Satsuki smiled at him. "You look so much better now. I was convinced you were a demon from hell when you opened the cave."
  
  He grinned and breathed deeply. Water ran down his cheeks and his massive chest. The brook chuckled down a mountainside between moss-covered boulders. The sound was so pure and clear, Jiro could almost hear the music of a flute in the notes of the rocks and water. Huge tree trunks obscured vision to all sides. Colorful flowers peeped coyly from between green bushes and ferns. It seemed as if they were alone in the world. There was no sign of pursuit, nor did they expect any. They were lost and, for the while at least, content to stay so.
  
  "How did you find me?" she asked.
  
  "It was rather peculiar. I lost your trail several times but was helped by your very clever device of the azalea wreaths." She bowed in thanks to the compliment. "Then at the worm hole I was stumped, but found a crack in the cliff face and managed to crawl up that."
  
  "What was so peculiar?"
  
  "There was a pilgrim's sandal there, hanging on the cliff. I wonder how it got there. You were there during the day; you must have seen it..."
  
  She shook her head, puzzled. "No, forgive me for my inobservance, but I am sure there was nothing there of the sort. It would have been rather obvious, would it not?"
  
  He sucked in air through his teeth in puzzlement. There was something odd about the whole affair, now that he could think of it. The rock slides, for instance. There were none when he was climbing the cliff face, nor had he heard any during the preceding nights. His line of thought was broken by Osatsuki.
  
  "Shall I rub your back?" she asked impishly. "You must be very tired."
  
  He was suddenly conscious of her body beneath her rather tattered robe. He knelt on the bank of the stream, and she knelt behind him. Her soft hands stroked his sore shoulders gently. The soothing motion soon aroused other thoughts, and he turned, still seated on his knees. He was not surprised to find Satsuki naked to the waist. Her small breasts pouted fully, waiting for his kisses and his hands. There was a smile on her lips, encouraging him. He took full advantage of the opportunity, playing long with her breasts and torso. Then he bore her gently back onto the moss. His manhood stood forward from his belly for a short moment before it was plunged into her depths. For a short time he waited, looking deeply into her eyes, enjoying the fullness of the scene. Then his hips began pistoning, slowly at first, then, as the crisis overcame him, with greater rapidity.
  
  She shook with passion along with him, her insides adding their copious moisture to his sprays of heavy cream. In the final moment she covered his mouth with hers and her eyes filled with tears.
  
  They lay for a long time, teasing one another's skin with their fingers and tongues, gently kissing.
  
  "That was nice and uncomplicated," remarked Satsuki.
  
  Jiro looked at her in consternation. "You had a hard time then, Mistress Osatsuki?"
  
  She laughed pleasantly. "No, not too bad. Please do not concern yourself. And it was most educational. I hardly had any idea there were people who lived like that. It was edifying, but I am glad it is over. And please, do not be formal. Under the circumstances it would be ridiculous, and I do so want to get to know you better. Okiku and I have discussed you many times..." She hid her smile with the palm of his hand, and Jiro laughed quietly.
  
  "Very well," he said. "I will call you Satsuki, as is proper. We are practically blood siblings, after all, sharing so many secrets and adventures."
  
  Nonetheless, he could not help wondering what Okiku and Satsuki had talked about when his name was mentioned. They lay together, enjoying the peace of nature and pleasurable companionship, unwilling to go on travelling towards the rest of humankind. He turned to her again, his penis ready, and she opened herself to him.
  
  The denizens of the mountain forest appeared from between the trees, dancing across the boulders like a troop of spirits. One softly played the drone of a hichiriki, producing eldritch music. Their music was in rhythm with the wind that blew between the trees and peculiarly in rhythm too with the movements of Jiro and Satsuki's bodies. Unseeing of the two, uncaring almost, they danced across moss-covered rocks, teetering for seconds on fallen logs, shooting off in all directions. The speed of their movements grew with the speed of Jiro's thrust. Satsuki closed her eyes, and he laved her lips with his tongue.
  
  The signs of her approaching pleasure were near. Her cunt tightened on his driving machine. Her breath came in tight little gasps. Her nipples hardened to stiff points between his pinching fingers. At last she gave a gentle sigh, and her body trembled throughout its entire length. She tightened convulsively, and then Jiro felt her grip slacken. She opened her eyes in time to watch him come too. His massive frame reared above her body like a wave. A tide of seed sprayed out from his massive member as he sought to bury it deeper into her. He cried out in triumph, crushing a handful of earth, the only contact between their bodies being the length of his male member. He sank down gratefully onto her soft body.
  
  They both raised their heads slightly and considered their visitors, who regarded them gravely in return.
  
  All five seemed ancient. Their hair was full and white. It flowed over their shoulders in snowy masses. They wore the colorful clothes of the yamabushi but with a difference. Silk and gold thread predominated. The breeches were of the finest material, the robes tucked into them of silk. On second look, Jiro was not so sure of their antiquity. Faces were smooth and unlined, hands did not display the usual veins of age. Only the eyes contrived to look ancient and infantile at once.
  
  "You did that very well." It was the sole woman of the five who spoke. She was distinguishable from the men only in her lack of beard.
  
  "We are the Goki, dwellers in the mountain," another said, forestalling Jiro's question.
  
  "Are you yamabushi?" Satsuki asked.
  
  Jiro was nervously conscious of his nakedness and the fact that his swords were not close enough to hand.
  
  One of the men laughed and looked at Jiro with amusement. "You did not return my geta," he answered Jiro's unasked question.
  
  "So it was you?" he said. "The rock slides too?"
  
  They bowed from their seats on rocks and branches.
  
  "Why?"
  
  This time the speaker's face was serious. "We do not care for what Master Daisangyoja was attempting. Long have we dwelt in these mountains, ministering to true yamabushi. Master Daisangyoja wishes to disturb the natural order of things. Whether his magic succeeds or not does not matter. It is the results of his actions, his turning people against themselves, that we dislike. So we opposed him."
  
  "Come," the woman smiled at them. "We know the ways of the mountains. You wish to go to Mount Koya. We will show you the way. We are glad you have not killed Master Daisangyoja. But beware. He is a great yamabushi, but he is not likely to forget you."
  
  "I will take care of him, and not with my fist, should we meet again," Jiro stated forcefully.