*** Prologue (Ume POV) ***
*** プロローグ ***
I looked across the kotatsu and considered Tomo’s story. It was as bizarre and fascinating as mine. One had to marvel at all the grim ways Mikawa had crept into our lives.
Almost as intriguing was the cute, very pink woman from the Chinmoju Izumi Temple next to Tomo. I do mean pink — blazer, sweater, and fingernails. She’d even dyed her hair pink. Tomo had introduced her as Kan-chan. A name he quickly corrected to Kanoko-san. I couldn’t help noticing the glances they occasionally exchanged. Not quite doey-eyed, but more than their casual acquaintanceship justified.
Had my ace partner found a girlfriend? If so, for once I would have the leg-up in teasing. It would be nice to come out on top for once.
Unless, of course, he left me for her. The thought he would leave me had haunted me ever since I had brought Shiomi into our house. If he found someone else, would he need me and my troublesome companion? He claimed to be monogamous, and I never had a reason to doubt him. But was he ready to move on to someone more stable?
But I was probably letting my imagination run away with me again. Tomo and Kanoko were just friendly. Once Tomo had met me, he hadn’t shown an interest in anyone else, not even as a casual acquaintanceship. I should be happy he had found a friend, not jealous.
As he finished his story, he glanced at Kanoko-san and asked, “Did I miss anything?”
Personally, I thought he had done a wonderful job. Maybe he should be the writer in the family, not me. Well, he wasn’t. I was, and I had no intention of letting this material go to waste. Taking the cigarette Shiomi had lit for me, I started framing Tomo’s story in my mind.
*** Chinmoku Izumi Temple (Tomo POV) ***
*** 鎮目泉寺 ***
I glanced at my phone for the fourth time this hour. Why didn’t Ume call? Yabai, she should have arrived at Daienji Temple by now. The texts I had been sending for the last hour and a half had remained unanswered. When I called, all I got was a busy signal.
“One more try,” I thought and texted, “Ume, are you in trouble? Call or text.”
I shouldn’t have let her and Shiomi go alone. Not that I would know what to do if we all wound up in that other place. “Muko,” Ume called it. Yabai, I could have done something. That was my role!
It had always been my job to rescue her. There was the time I prevented her from investing in a Hanno maid café, or the time I convinced her that any magazine that wanted money just to consider her story was a scam. But this was different. Why hadn’t I made her get rid of that woman?
I jumped as the phone buzzed and kept buzzing as message after message arrived. “Someone” was replying to my last message. I stared in horror at the meaningless messages.
>> نكس اندا
>> شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين
>> شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين
>> شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين
Line after line rolled up the screen.
There was something dreadful about them, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the messages. By now the screen was full of lines saying “شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين، شاين”. Then slowly I began to understand what it said “Shine Shine Shine Shine Shine Shine” “Die Die Die Die Die Die.”
I felt sick and wanted to throw up, but instead, I started repeating the words, “Shine Shine Shine Shine Shine Shine.” I could taste them on my tongue, bitter as mugwort tincture.
Suddenly, there was a sound like a roaring train, and a terrible wind sent me spinning. My phone flew from my hand and hit the wall with a crash, echoing something else that had come crashing down.
Instantly, the grip of the sinister words relaxed. I staggered, only keeping my feet by placing a hand on the wall. My mind still reeled, but I was in control again. Not enough though to get to the bathroom before getting sick, vomiting an acrid liquid that burned and left a foul metallic taste.
When I finished vomiting, I attempted to understand what had happened. It was difficult. My thoughts came as jumbled fragments, but it wasn’t hard to see where the wind had come from. The screen in front of Hanayome-shin’s shrine had toppled into the room, and the offerings lay scattered on the floor amid a sprinkling of pink flower petals.
If I had been thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have done what I did next. I went to investigate. What I found was the inner cabinet door hanging from one hinge. Inside, Hanayome-shin’s box lay with its lid open and the silk wrapper trailing to either side. I quickly looked away, remembering Ume’s instruction. I was never to look at or touch it. Only she was allowed to interact with Hanayome-shin.
As I stared at the wreckage, I heard a rustling breeze, and it felt like someone was looking at me. When I turned around, I didn’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect a tall woman in a white kimono decorated with sakura blossoms. This was Ume’s guardian. Why was I seeing her?
She was so tall her headdress brushed the ceiling. Her face was beautiful, but stern. A powder white face with a faint pink blush. Teeth blackened like they did in the old days. There was no doubt I had come face to face with Hanayome-shin.
I’ll confess, I shrieked. Even after the voices at night, Ume’s stories, and my close encounter on the phone, I wasn’t prepared to be visited personally by a youkai.
She spoke with a soft voice, but there was nothing soft in her tone. “Shizu-san.”
I stood frozen, not responding to my name. My wits, which hadn’t been in the best shape before, had scattered still further, like the petals on the floor.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
I bowed my head, not knowing what to say, and waited.
“Why haven’t you taken care of my wife? You call yourself her husband, yet I find you here.”
I bowed lower and considered if I should do dogeza.
She continued, “Do something; protect your family and get rid of that girl, or I’ll take you.”
That set me back, both the threat and accusation of negligence. A well-deserved reprimand. Ume’s location was a mystery to me. I’d been so absorbed in avoiding Shiomi and staying out of their business that I didn’t even know the name of the temple or priest Ume had been dealing with.
Hanayome-shin was right. I needed to step up and stop pretending this was all Ume’s responsibility. I may not legally have been her husband, but that was the role I took and it was how we presented ourselves to the world. That meant her problems were mine. Besides, in a way, I was responsible. I had pushed Ume to get a girlfriend, even if I hadn’t expected her to pick a ghost-ridden alcoholic.
“After all, if something happens to Ume-san,” she resumed, “I will need a new husband.” There was nothing lewd in her tone, a cold statement.
“Oh, that’s what she meant by ‘take,’” I thought. That was better than being carried off to whatever dimension Hanayome-shin spent her time. Still, I didn’t relish the idea of becoming her new husband.
I had finally gathered my wits and debated with myself if I should ask her what to do. I really didn’t remember where Ume had gone. All I remembered was it was somewhere in the mountains of northern Gunma. I sensed that asking would be the wrong thing to do and caution won out over desperation. It wouldn’t do to bother this imperious creature with questions. If Hanayome-shin wanted to tell me what to do, she would have already done so.
Instead, I opened my mouth to thank her, but she was gone. I don’t know how. She didn’t blink out or fade. She just wasn’t there when I looked up. A dozen sakura blossoms drifted to the floor and a sighing of a breeze was all that showed she had ever been there.
My head was clearer now, so I went into the kitchen to think. I needed to take action, but where to start? It wasn’t just Hanayome-shin’s message that motivated me, I genuinely knew I should do something.
I opened a beer, leaned against the kitchen counter, lit a cigarette, and stared at its glowing tip as if it might answer my questions. What should I do? I didn’t know where Ume was going, so I couldn’t call there. Calling Ume sounded like a bad idea. What about the local temple? No Kawanami-san, the priest there, had died. But he had told us to call another priest, and I had that number. Bingo! Thanks to the card Ume had left lying around, I had the number for the headquarters of the priest Ume was seeing. It was obvious once I thought of it.
I moved back into the living room, glancing at the vomit. I resisted the urge to clean it or the litter up. Instead, I gingerly picked up the phone. A spider-web of cracks showed in the faceplate, but behind them, I could see the eerie messages. I quickly switched away from the texting app to the phone.
Next, I fetched the card with the temple’s number. I had put it with Ume’s papers, so it was easy to find. Armed with the number, I sat down on the bed to call. For the moment, I couldn’t face the living room. The mess made me almost as anxious as recent events.
The phone on the other end of the line rang a few times and then a young woman answered, “Moshi moshi. Chinmoku Izumi Temple, how may I help you?”
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Note:
Hiding in the kitchen didn’t work too well, did it, Tomo? Now your wife has a girlfriend with “baggage,” an onryo that is trying to kill you, and the attention of matrimonial minded kami.
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Story by Nara Moore
Twitter/X:@nara_moore
Mastodon: sakurajima.moe
WordPress: Josei Yuri and Paranormal Romance
Art by Mai-sensei
Twitter: @Maiisheree
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