A large yellow moon hung in the distance, all colour, no light. Was this night time? Probably not. Was the pale blue streak of light in the sky behind me from a setting or a rising sun? A dragonfly floated across the moon’s yellow surface, but when its silhouette left the moon, I lost sight of it. The field around me extended as far as the eye could see. I stood soaking wet, water dripping from the end of my tail. As a child, I’d heard stories about the kudan, never thinking I would turn into such a pathetic monster myself. But now here I was, a cow with a human face. What should I do in this vast, empty field? Why had I been put here? Where was the cow that had spawned me?
At some point, the moon turned blue. The sky darkened, leaving only a thin band of light on the horizon. The band grew even thinner, and just when it seemed about to disappear, small black dots began to show up in it. They increased in number, and by the time they formed a line on the horizon, the band of light was gone and the sky was dark. Then the moon began to glow. This was when I knew that it was nightfall and that the fading light had been coming from the west. My body dried off, and each time the wind blew across my back, my short fur stirred in the breeze. As the moon grew smaller, its blue light flowed in all directions. Here in the middle of this field, which seemed as if it were under water, I recalled things about my human past with regret. But the sequence was a blur: try as I might, I couldn’t tell at which point my life as a human being had ceased. Folding my front legs, I tried lying down. But I didn’t like the sand sticking to my hairless chin and got up again. As the night deepened, I wandered aimlessly or stood still in a daze. The moon descended into the western sky. As dawn approached, a gust of wind rose from the west like a giant wave, carrying the smell of sand, and I understood that my first day as a kudan was beginning. Then the terrifying thought I’d let slip from my memory suddenly returned. The kudan lives only three days, and before it dies it reveals a prophecy in human language. Having been reborn in this form, I didn’t care how long I might live, so it didn’t bother me that I’d be dead in three days, but the part about the prophecy was troubling. I had no idea what prophecy to make. For the moment I didn’t need to worry. Here in the middle of the field with nobody around, I could keep my mouth shut and wait for death. Just then the wind picked up and I could hear the clamour of human voices. Frightened, I gazed into the distance, and as the wind blew, I heard the voices again: ‘Over there! Over there!’ The voices seemed vaguely familiar.
That was when I realized that the black dots on the horizon the evening before had been people, that they’d crossed the field in the night to hear my prophecy. I had to escape – as soon as possible. I fled eastwards. A pale blue light filtered into the eastern sky, turning white as the sky lightened. Across the field I could see a terrifying crowd approaching like the ominous shadow of a cloud. A wind rose up from the east, carrying their shouts of ‘Over there! Over there!’ Their voices were now definitely familiar, and they sounded nearby. In a panic I fled north, but the north wind blew and their shouts rode back to me on the breeze. The same thing happened when I ran south. The wind changed direction and the mass of people closed in on me. I was trapped. The huge crowd was coming to hear the prophecy from my mouth. If they knew I had nothing to say even though I was a kudan, they’d be furious. I didn’t mind dying on the third day, but the torment before that would be unbearable. I stamped my feet in vexation, ready to flee. The yellow moon hung hazily in the western sky, growing larger. The scenery was the same as last night’s. I gazed at the moon, bewildered.
The day had fully dawned.
The crowd encircled me in the middle of the vast field. The frightening mass of people must have numbered in the thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. Several dozens of them stepped forwards and quickly got to work. They brought in timber and constructed a large fenced-in area around me. They erected scaffolding and made a grandstand. Time passed, and before long it was noon. Unable to do anything, I watched them work. Their activity could only mean that they intended to sit and wait three days for my prophecy. They were surrounding me like this, even though I had nothing to say. I needed to escape, but there was no way out. People filled the upper reaches of the gallery, which grew dark with the crowd. The overflow stood below the grandstand or crouched by the fence. After a while, a man in a white kimono appeared from below the western stands holding up a ceremonial vessel and approaching me in silence. The crowd went quiet. The man advanced with great solemnity and stopped when he was very close to me. Then he placed the vessel on the ground and retreated. The vessel was filled with clean water. Sure that he meant it for me, I approached and drank it.
The crowd suddenly came to life. ‘He drank it!’ someone said.
‘Finally. It won’t be long now!’ another said.
I was caught off guard and looked around. Apparently, they thought I would speak the prophecy after I drank the water. But I had nothing to say. I turned away and took a few steps at random. Dusk seemed to be approaching. If only night would come faster!
‘Hey, he’s turned his back on us,’ someone said, as though surprised.
‘It may not happen today.’
‘Then the prophecy is bound to be important.’
I was sure I had heard all their voices somewhere before. I spun around and saw the familiar face of a man who was crouching by the fence and staring hard at me. At first I couldn’t recall with any clarity, but slowly I began to remember, and soon I recognized the faces of my friends, my relatives, my teachers, my students. I hated the way they were elbowing their way forward to get a better look at me.
‘Hey,’ someone said, ‘this kudan looks familiar.’
‘I don’t know. I’m not so sure,’ someone else replied.
‘He does look like somebody, but I can’t remember who.’
This talk threw me further into confusion. I couldn’t bear to have my friends know I’d become this hairy beast. I thought I’d better hide my face and tried not to look in their direction.
Before I knew it, the sun had set and a dim yellow moon hung in the sky. As it slowly took on a blue tinge, the stands and fence dissolved into the gloom, and night fell.
In the darkness, the crowd lit bonfires around the fence. All night long the flames leaped into the moonlit sky. The crowd stayed awake, waiting for a word from me. The deep red smoke of the bonfire drifted up and darkened as it crossed the face of the moon, whose brightness faded, and the wind of dawn began to blow. Day broke once again. Thousands more must have crossed the field over the course of the night. The area around the fence was even more raucous than the day before. Faces in the crowd kept changing. They grew more and more threatening, and I was full of fear.
The man in the white kimono approached once again, reverently offering me the vessel, and then he withdrew. As before, the vessel was filled with water. I wasn’t thirsty and knew I’d be expected to speak if I drank, so I didn’t even look at it.
‘He’s not going to drink,’ someone said.
‘Shut up. You shouldn’t be talking at a time like this.’
‘It must be one hell of a prophecy. The fact that he’s taking so long must mean something.’
The crowd grew noisy again as people came and went. The man in the white kimono kept bringing me water. The crowd fell silent each time he offered me the vessel, but as soon as they saw I wasn’t drinking from it, the noise got worse. He brought water more frequently, putting it closer to me each time. I found this annoying and became angry. Then another man, carrying another vessel, walked up to me and stared at me. He shoved the vessel up under my face. I recognized him. I couldn’t say exactly who he was, but the sight of him only increased my anger.
When he saw that I had no intention of drinking the water, he clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘Come on, drink it, will you?’
‘No, I don’t want to,’ I replied in anger.
The crowd went crazy. I looked around and saw to my shock that people in the stands were jumping down and those behind the fence were climbing over it. They ran towards me, shouting terrifying curses at one another.
‘He spoke.’
‘He finally said something.’
‘What’d he say?’
‘Who cares? It’s what he’s going to say.’
When I looked up, I saw the yellow moon again. The light over the field was growing dim. The sun was setting on my second day. I was still unable to prophesy anything, but I didn’t think I would die, either. Perhaps the prophecy itself would cause my death, which meant that if I didn’t say anything, I might not die at the end of three days. In that case I’d rather live, I thought. At that moment, the ones at the front of the crowd reached my side. Those behind kept pushing forward, admonishing each other, ‘Quiet, quiet.’ Who knew what would become of me if I were grabbed by this angry, disappointed mob? I wanted desperately to get out, but I was trapped by the human fence. The crowd grew more unruly; shrieks could be heard over the din. The human fence grew tighter and tighter around me. I was paralysed with fear. Without thinking, I drank the water in the vessel. In that instant the crowd fell silent. I was stunned when I realized what I’d done, but there was no way to undo it. The look of anticipation on their faces was even more frightening. I broke out in a cold sweat. As I remained silent, the crowd slowly came back to life.
‘What happened? Something’s wrong.’
‘No, it’s coming, an absolutely amazing prophecy.’
I heard this much, but otherwise the commotion around me was not too bad. There seemed to be a new uneasiness in the crowd. I relaxed a little and looked at the faces of the ones who’d formed the human fence, realizing that I knew every one of those in front. A strange anxiety and fear registered on each of their faces. As I watched this happen, my own fear dissipated and I was able to relax. I suddenly felt thirsty and took a sip from the vessel in front of me. This time nobody spoke. The shadow of fear deepened, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. It was like that for a while, until someone broke the silence: ‘I’m scared.’ The voice was soft but echoed across the crowd.
The circle around me widened. The crowd was slowly backing off.
‘Now I’m afraid to hear the prophecy. By the looks of this kudan, who knows what terrible thing he’ll say?’
‘Good or bad, it’s best not to know. Let’s kill him quickly before he has a chance to say anything.’
I was shocked at the threat to kill me, but the voice was what took me by surprise. It belonged to my son, my own human son. The other voices had sounded familiar, but I was unable to place them; yet the voice of my son I recognized. In an effort to see him I stood on my hind legs.
‘The kudan is lifting its front legs.’
‘He’s going to make his prophecy,’ I heard someone say in a panicked voice. The tightly packed human enclosure began to break down, and without another word the crowd scattered in all directions. Jumping the wooden fence and ducking under the stands, they ran as fast as they could. In their wake, night once again approached and the moon began to cast its hazy yellow light. With great relief, I stretched out my front legs and yawned three or four times. Perhaps I wouldn’t die after all.