(Art: “The Rescue,” by Mai-sensei)
“Frick!” All thoughts of convincing Shiomi that Mikawa was an awful person fled as I saw the flashing lights. With alarm, I said, “It’s started again!”
“What?” Shiomi sounded confused.
“Muko, Muko. We’re back in Muko. Look!”
I slowed down and got ready to turn around.
Ahead of me was a line of orange-striped construction barricades blocking the road. We could turn right or left, but not go forward. An orange sign on the barricades said, “Detour,” with an arrow pointing to the left. Next to it was a white sign saying “Local access only and an arrow pointing straight ahead.”
“I can read the signs. They aren’t all weird. Maybe we’re okay.” I said to Shiomi, as I stopped.
She nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said as I warily watched a figure dressed in a heavy rain slicker approach. The hood of the raincoat hid the figure’s face, which made me nervous. It was an ordinary rain hood, but I wished I could see the face under it, or maybe I didn’t.
Despite my apprehensions, I rolled my window down enough so I could hear what the figure wanted to say to me. My other hand fingered the charm around my neck and I kept my foot next to the gas.
“Sorry,” said a shrill male voice. “The earthquake brought down some rocks and power lines. The road ahead is a mess. Where are you headed?”
“Tsuchiide, Katashina.”
“Okay. Turn left and follow the signs until you get to Tatsuiwa. Then turn right onto 64. You can’t miss the turn. You’ll get back on 401 at Tonemachi. It’s a pretty drive if it clears up. Sorry about that.”
I turned and headed the way he pointed and said to Shiomi, “I can’t tell what’s normal anymore and what’s supernatural. That seems normal enough, but it still worries me.”
I was talking more to fill the silence that lay between us than to communicate anything meaningful, but she answered anyway. “Yeah, it seemed alright. — Ume, I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”
I wasn’t sure what she was sorry for, but when I looked over, I saw silent tears running down her cheeks. The gray light coming in the car window highlighted her face, bringing out the gray of her eyes and the delicate shape of her nose. A tear hung on the edge of her upper lip. This time I thought, “Ingrid Bergman, Casablanca, but we will never have our Paris.” For a minute, a mournful mood settled on me for what could have been.
The moment to confront her about Mikawa had passed, replaced by a moment of sadness shared by two people thrown together by fate.
“Could you light me a smoke?” I asked. It was a small bridge between us.
I heard a sniff and then, “Sure, I can do that.”
A few seconds later, I had my smoke, and we drove on in silence.
We turned onto 64 without incident. The fog steadily got thicker, but the fact we passed occasional cars and lights shone from the houses we passed reassured me. We were leaving what turned out to be the last village in the valley when I spotted grave markers alongside the road. Amid them was the glimmer of a green light. I only saw it for a moment, so I wasn’t sure. Was it my imagination or something supernatural?
I glanced at Shiomi, but she was facing the wrong way and wouldn’t have seen the light. It seemed pointless to worry her needlessly, so I kept silent.
I needn’t have bothered because a couple of minutes later, I saw a place to pull over in front of a small boxy temple and did.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked.
“I saw something that worried me and wanted to check a few things,” I replied.
I didn’t explain further, and she didn’t ask.
To start, I took out my phone and checked that I could read it. The last time I was in Muko, my phone had acted funny. My research showed that sometimes phones worked in Muko and sometimes not. For example, the story of Kisaragi Station featured people using them. Still, if I could make a phone call, it would be a positive sign.
“I’m going to call Chinmoku Izumi Temple and tell them we might be late. Unless you think it is dangerous.” I said. I remembered how she had grabbed my hand when Time Space Man had called.
Shiomi thought for a second and answered, “I don’t know. But if you hear anything weird, drop it.” She looked concerned, unlike her indifferent attitude on the last trip. Things were changing.
“I’ll repeat anything I hear, and if it sounds strange, you take the phone from me. I’ve noticed apparitions are very persuasive. They almost talked me into jumping off a bridge.”
“I’m glad they didn’t. — You trust me to do this?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. Someone told me I was stupid and useless a lot, I guess.”
I bit my tongue. It struck me that youkai weren’t the only ones who could make an evil argument sound convincing. Mikawa had been good at it.
I was making progress, but if I pushed too hard, she would revert to defending Mikawa. I hoped I could keep her alive long enough that she realized how abusive Mikawa had been and how dangerous she was now.
At that instant though, I needed to worry about our current situation and I pressed recall for Chinmoku Izumi. Then I began to narrate what was happening. I thought it would be better than just repeating what I heard.
“The line is busy.”
“Frick, now there’s a ‘no signal’ message.”
I looked at the phone screen and said, “The signal bars are crazy.”
I thought for a moment and then said, “I’m going to text. Sometimes text will get through when the signal isn’t stable enough to maintain a phone connection.”
“I am typing, ‘This is Ume Fumiko. I was supposed to meet Mikito-sensei. We were detoured up Route 64 and may be late. We are worried Mikawa may be affecting our trip.’”
“I am sending it.”
“Do you think they can even help us if she is?” I asked Shiomi.
“They’re the experts, so maybe. I don’t know much about what priests can do. I haven’t seen one since I left home. They were always making such a fuss over me. Making me eat and drink nasty shit. Like that priest of yours. A couple beat on me to ‘get the spirits out.’ He at least didn’t do that.”
“If you don’t like priests, why’d you come today?”
“I promised to behave, and it’s something you asked me to do. I take orders pretty well, actually.”
“Interesting comment,” I thought.
Our conversation ended when the phone beeped, signaling a message. I looked at it, puzzled for a moment by the gibberish I saw.
>> چينموكو ايزومي: چنا دي
>> چينموكو ايزومي: سينون تاك دي چواء مشيو
>> چينموكو ايزومي: ڤاستي بوكيت بورت كاتن ڤليس دتنڬ كاچا
Then I slowly read it to Shiomi,
Don’t worry
I’ll meet you at Sen no Taki
Be sure to bring Shiomi
“How does he know my name?” Shiomi asked.
I searched for an answer but just found brain fog. “I don’t know. Maybe I mentioned it.” Then, with a little more certainty, “Kawanami-san must have told them.”
“I’m a little dizzy,” I continued. “Could you get me a smoke and some of the tea Tomo made?”
I was disoriented, but not enough that I didn’t notice the face Shiomi made as she lit me a Pianissimo. “Peach,” she muttered.
I didn’t know that a nose could actually turn up with distaste; Very cute. An 8; No, a 9.
She took the Pianissimo from her mouth and handed it to me, saying, “What’s with the look?”
I must have been pretty obvious, but I wasn’t admitting my thoughts, so I replied, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Next, she poured some tea from the thermos into its lid. This time, her mouth was unobscured as it turned up with disgust. I wondered what that was about but mainly noticed how cute the expression was. No wonder I’d been attracted to her in the konbini. “Too bad she’s taken a dislike to me. I’m the Victor Laszlo of the story,” I thought. “No, Victor gets the girl.” My mind was muddled.
“Shit! Oh, sorry, I forgot, no swearing.” She was looking alternately at me and the contents of the thermos lid. I wasn’t sure which alarmed her more. She finally said, “It’s curdled.”
I laughed. She looked so serious and so worried. “Don’t sweat it. If I see a vending machine, I’ll stop. And don’t worry about the swearing. As long as it’s not ‘at’ one of us, you can be forgiven. It’s not like we never swear.”
She looked relieved. “I’m trying.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not Mikawa. I won’t give you the third degree because you swear occasionally.” I instantly regretted saying this for several reasons. One being, that I didn’t want to put Shiomi in a position where she felt she needed to defend Mikawa.
I needn’t have worried, she responded, saying, “Mika swore worse than me. You wouldn’t believe the things she called me when no one was around to hear. Going back to Mikawa would be a lot easier if you weren’t so nice to me.”
My mood instantly plummeted. There it was. Mikawa was like a ghost in more ways than one. A ghost that constantly got between us.
I got ready to pull out onto the road and noticed a light sleet falling. It matched my mood.
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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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