お帰りなさい
*** Welcome (Ume POV) ***
Shishi and I nestled in the library, enjoying a smoke. I pretended to listen to the singing of a bush warbler the Mayoiga had added to the room in our absence. We had come to Kakuriyo seeking to break the Kudan’s curse and found a place of peace instead. Unease briefly stirred as this thought crossed my mind. Then my eyes locked with my girlfriend’s. The unease vanished as my face flushed, and we exchanged a kiss. I’d finally confessed to Shishi, and she’d unhesitatingly accepted. It seemed silly that it had taken so long. If only I’d listened to Tomo.
I blew peach-flavored smoke toward the ceiling, another present from the Mayoiga, and said, “She likes Camel Lights.”
“What?” Shishi asked.
“I wanted to check something. Look in the cigarette box.”
“Oh, there’re Camel Lights.” The house had replaced the prior stock of Hope and Golden Bat cigarettes with Pianissimo Peche and Camel Lights. Shishi sounded delighted. “The house likes us.”
Indeed, the Mayoiga had welcomed us, enfolding us in its warmth. My worries had drifted off, like the smoke from our cigarettes.
After Shishi finished her smoke, we resumed exploring the Mayoiga and soon found a large western-style dining room with a table set with decanters, bowls of fruit, and silver that shone under a crystal chandelier. High-backed chairs sat waiting for dinner guests.
We walked across the room, our slippers whispering on the polished parquet floor. I murmured, “It’s like the room is waiting for the guests to arrive.”
Shishi smiled. “And we’re the only guests. It’s all just for us.” I squeezed her hand in agreement.
We left the room through double doors on the room’s other side and entered a large, old-fashioned kitchen. It was so clean you could eat off the floor. Shishi stood in the center of the room, turning slowly around. “Look at this place.”
High up were shelves neatly storing pots, pans, and cookware. An array of herbs, in jars and hanging from the ceiling, filling the air with their pungent odor. Opening bins revealed rice, wheat flour, barley, and other staples. A marble-topped table ran down the center of the room with unscratched cutting boards and top-quality cutlery. The type of cutlery that becomes a family heirloom or costs hundreds of thousands of yen. Ranges and an oven with a brick chimney stood at the far side of the room.
“I can’t wait to make you a meal,” Shishi said, staring at it all.
“I think the house will do that for us,” I replied. “Though I suppose we could cook for ourselves.”
Shishi pointed to a door at the back of the room. “I bet that’s a pantry.”
The pantry was as wondrous as the kitchen. Game and expensive meat hung from hooks in the chilled room. Below them were vegetables, butter, and milk in ceramic jars, all chilled to preserve them. Just outside the pantry, we found a door leading to a small vegetable garden with greenhouses on one side. Beyond the garden was a cemetery shaded by massive cedars.
From there, we wandered back through the kitchen and dining room, then out into a hallway dominated by an enormous staircase leading to a second floor. At the top of the stairway was a locked door across from a formal lounge furnished with dusty rose-colored Victorian furniture. I stared at the lock, unease ruffling my calm.
“Look,” Shishi called from down a short corridor. I turned and saw she was standing in front of one of two doors. By the time I reached her, my worries had faded, as if they had never been.
Opening the doors revealed two bedrooms. Each room was as large as a small apartment with a salon, a huge walk-in closet, a luxurious bathroom featuring modern plumbing, and a bathtub as big as a small hot spring.
The first room was in the Western style. The wallpaper, sheets, and decorations were shades of blue. Broad windows offered a view of rolling grassy hills with occasional ruins and wooded groves. In contrast, the second room was in the Japanese style, and red colors dominated. The windows here looked out over the forest. Beyond that were the ruins of Hiroshima, and still further stood a gray and russet-streaked mountain. A snowless Mt. Fuji-like silhouette that inspired dread, not wonder.
My eyes lingered on Hiroshima, drawn to where Himekawa Hospital was starkly visible. The horror of the place washed over me, and I briefly felt like I could hear Nurse Uguisu making her offer again. “There is no need to suffer anymore.”
The sensation only lasted a moment, then Shishi interrupted by pulling me to the blue room, saying, “Let’s take this one.”
Regaining my bearings, I said awkwardly, “Don’t you want your own room?” Then I realized, of course, she didn’t. Why was I acting like an adolescent girl? I’d shared a bedroom with Tomo for years. Yet somehow this seemed different. It was different. Tomo and I had slept separately for months, and there had never been sex.
Shishi looked disappointed but put on a brave face and said, “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not what I want.” My face grew red at the thought of what I wanted. I pictured me and Shishi, at night, in bed, embracing.
“Then it’s not what I want either, but if you ever need space, tell me and I’ll move into the other room.”
It was about then that a bell rang downstairs. On investigation, it proved to be for dinner. The meal was a bewildering array of dishes that appeared and disappeared as the meal progressed. First came butterbur salad and clear soup with clams, followed by sea bream sashimi. I must have been making a sour face by the time the third course of tempura and miso-grilled mackerel arrived. The food was superbly cooked, but I’m a peasant. I like simple food, and the thought of meals like this every night spoiled my appetite.
Shishi must have noticed me picking at the mackerel, which should have been a hit with me, and spoke. “House, Ume likes simpler meals. We like rice and starting with miso soup. No more of this fancy stuff. And it’s my job serving her, so just put it on the sideboard.”
The food melted away at her words, and a soft clatter arose behind us from the sideboard. Shish arose and returned with rice, miso soup, salted grilled seabream, and a dish of assorted pickled wild vegetables. The sight should have made me happy; instead, I felt sick.
After that, all I remembered was Shishi’s concerned face and wondering what she was thinking.
*** Ghost Sick (Shiomi POV) ***
Ume’s confession was really cute. She was so flustered, you would have thought she was still in high school. It was very Ume: worrying about what I thought; concerned she’d offended me; making sure I wouldn’t agree out of duty. After everything she had done, I would have. It was only fair. Mikawa would have swallowed me long ago, except for Ume. She shouldn’t have worried, though. There was nothing I wanted more. Ume was wonderful, and I loved her so much.
And this house; it was made for us. Me and Ume, forever.
That was all I thought about as we explored the Mayoiga. It had everything we would ever need and catered to our desires. It had even adjusted the brand of cigarettes it offered us.
I was unaware that everything wasn’t as it seemed till we reached the Japanese bedroom. Ume had been distant since we’d left the library, but I assume she was consumed by the same thoughts I was. Wasn’t love grand! We met, fell in love, and found a private love nest.
The view from the room reminded me of what lay outside the Mayoiga. In the background, a snowless, blood-streaked mountain loomed. If I looked too long, it took on the resemblance of a giant gray moth. It’s hard to describe. I would have joked about Mothra, but there wasn’t anything funny about the mountain.
Ume stared out the window and began muttering to herself.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Himekawa,” she answered.
“What?” I thought. “That’s back in Japan. You can’t even see the Hiroshima hospital from here? No way.”
She stood muttering for maybe 10 minutes. It was spooky, so I pulled on her arm. The look she gave me was blank. “So much pain,” she muttered.
There was a dead tone to her voice I didn’t like, so I dragged her out of the room and into the Western bedroom. She didn’t resist, but when I said, “Let’s take this one,” she turned red and responded slowly, “You don’t want your own room?”
I stared blankly at her. What was she talking about? Of course, I didn’t, but if that was what Ume wanted, then I wouldn’t argue. I was so relieved when it turned out it was just Ume being Ume, worrying about me, and we agreed on both using the blue room.
My concern grew at dinner. Ume poked at her food. She’s usually a good eater, but it didn’t look like she was enjoying the meal. I thought it must be how fancy the food was. She always likes my basic stuff. So I told the house to get its act together and feed her what she wanted.
Things improved for a while. She ate some grilled fish and appeared to enjoy it, but she mainly ate rice. The meal ended with sweet chestnut buns. We both like sweets, so I hoped they would appeal to her. She took one bite, gagged, and vomited.
“You poisoned her!” I screamed at the house and stood up so violently my chair fell to the floor. In moments, I reached Ume and started wiping her face with the sleeves of my kimono. I didn’t care that it would ruin it. She was muttering deliriously. I almost understood what she was saying, but paid no attention until I heard her say, “There is nothing… like a nurse’s love.”
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Note: The other shoe has dropped.
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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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