Chapter 1: In the Valley of Gangala

Chapter 1:
In the Valley of Gangala

 

SUMMERS IN THE SPIRIT REALM were short. The moment that Obon—the festival of the dead—ended, the frigid air and chilly nights returned.

I wonder why we curse the summer heat so much yet feel a tinge of sadness once we realize it’s gone. Perhaps it’s because summer is special, resplendent and brilliant like the sun, and packed with memories as dazzling as the sea that glistens under beams of light.

This summer had been eventful to say the least: We’d found an injured former exorcist, Shirai Suimei, and taken him in. Then we went to Oboke Gorge in Tokushima to help Goblin’s friend. After that, we convinced Suimei to lodge at our house while he looked for someone. While with us, he helped me deliver a book to Mount Fuji, tend to a pair of cicada spirits on their deathbed, and look for the owner of a bookmark. Finally, there had been an incident with a Jorogumo. It really had been an eventful summer.

Of course, the most impactful thing of all was meeting Suimei. The time we spent together had been full of meaning. The two of us—one raised in the spirit realm and the other in the human world—were different, but since our meeting, we had eaten, seen, and experienced many things together. He’d comforted me through my hardships, and I through his. He’d even saved me a few times.

Now, he worked at an apothecary located in the spirit realm and lived a fulfilling life together with his partner, Kuro, whom he had been searching for.

My eventful summer was nearing its end. What would autumn bring? The future was a mystery to all, and that made life worth living. But I knew one thing was for certain: Life in the spirit realm would be much livelier now, with Suimei thrown in the mix.

 

I let out a deep, longing sigh.

I was in the only bookstore in the entirety of the spirit realm, located on the outskirts of town. It was a two-story Japanese-style building far shabbier—ahem, far more unique—than the houses that surrounded it. It also doubled as my home.

“Suimei…” I sighed again. I was sprawled atop the low dining table located in the living room of our living space. The face of that white-haired boy, Suimei, was at the forefront of my mind. Thinking of him made my heart ache; speaking his name made my chest tight. I could deny the truth no longer—I needed him. Only with him by my side could I be at ease.

“Suimei…I need you…” I sighed again, feverish this time, and gazed into the distance. My eyes locked on to the kitchen cabinet, the sliding door of which was open just a smidge. From within, a slowly depleting rice bin could just be made out.

My heart leapt the moment I saw the rice. Unable to bear the aching any longer, I screamed forth the desires of my heart: “Suimei! I need your rent money!”

“Heh. You had me for a good moment there. You all right in the head, little miss?” I heard an aloof voice from behind me.

“Ah…” I turned around to see a quirkily dressed man standing behind me. He looked about Shinonome’s age and wore round sunglasses, through the lens of which I could see his right eye was clouded. His peculiarly long, black hair was capped with a fedora, and he had facial hair that was well kept, unlike Shinonome-san’s stubble. He wore a haori over an open-necked shirt and hid his right arm inside his clothes.

Every time I met this man, he had on a different haori, all equally quirky. Today, his haori was based on Edo-period bijin-ga—woodblock prints depicting beautiful women—and showed a woman covered in white face powder giving a flirtatious sidelong glance.

The man’s name was Tamaki. He was an old friend of Shinonome-san’s and someone I’d known since I was little.

I gave him a goofy smile and greeting. “Oh, hello.”

“So… What was all that earlier?” he asked, furrowing his brows. I could hear strain from holding back laughter as well as genuine confusion in his voice.

Embarrassed, I answered, “No, see, if Suimei, um, if this guy who lodged here a while ago was still paying rent, we’d be able to fill our sorry excuse for a rice bin up with some A-grade rice, you see?”

Tamaki-san shook his head, then pushed up his glasses with a finger and said, “Phew, and here I thought you were suddenly gunning for a man out of the blue. I’m not a fan of such abrupt developments, not even in stories. You gotta stick to the formula, you hear?” He let out a deep, guttural laugh.

Likening things to stories was a habit of his. I apologized for saying misleading things and gave him, our guest, a cushion to sit on.

 

Our home was a bookstore, but not one profitable enough to make ends meet. That wasn’t to say our bookstore wasn’t popular; it very much was. But two factors kept our budget tight: Shinonome-san and the circumstances of the spirit realm.

Many spirits lived the old way of life, self-sufficient and without currency. Such was the spirit realm, a place where much of what was long lost from the human world still remained.

However, Shinonome-san, the bookstore’s proprietor, still lent books to these penniless folk, and he collected interesting stories in place of money. There was a way to turn these stories into money…but it took time. Hence why we were always just scraping by.

I understood the feeling of not wanting to turn away spirits eager to read, I really, really did. But one had to know where to draw the line. If we couldn’t eke out a living, then there would be no bookstore from which to lend books in the first place.

I took on a part-time job in the human world, but even then, finances were tight. That was why the rent Suimei paid while he stayed with us had been such a boon. Without him, our meals were back to the cheap stuff.

“I can bear not having the best meat, but rice is the core of my diet. I simply cannot go back to the budget rice blends after having tasted heaven. I’m thinking I might have to take up more shifts at my part-time job.”

Tamaki-san flashed a somewhat warped smile. “Hmm… That idiot would be torn to hear this.”

“Who? Shinonome-san?”

“Who else is there? I can imagine the face he’d make now. Yes, yes… How delightful. Go on, then, take up as many shifts as you can.”

“That’s…a bit mean to him, don’t you think?”

“What’s it matter? An overly doting father like him could do to learn some moderation. Besides, it’ll likely lead to some interesting story developments.” He stroked his well-kept chin hair and laughed gruffly. He then took a deliberate look around the room and asked, “So, where is he?”

“Hm? He should be back there… Huh?”

Shinonome-san’s room was right next to the living room. Normally, he could be seen writing away with his back facing me, but at present, he was absent. I peered in further to see unfinished manuscripts scattered about, but still no sign of their author.

“Oh dear…”

“He turned tail, huh?” Tamaki-san clicked his tongue and then sat back down on the tatami. “I’ll wait until he returns. Could I have some tea?”

“Oh, sure.”

“He’s a handful, that man; running away even though he knows he can never truly evade me. Just like how the villains in stories are always eventually caught.”

Tamaki-san was a story-seller, an unconventional job that involved collecting stories and anecdotes involving spirits and later selling them. Such things were apparently in demand among folklore researchers in the human world. As I alluded to earlier, Tamaki-san was the buyer of the stories Shinonome-san collected in lieu of money. The payment we got from Tamaki-san was a vital source of income for the household…but Shinonome-san was a fatally slow writer, so things often ended up not working out.

Today, Tamaki-san had come to collect manuscripts, and Shinonome-san, having not finished, fled. All in all, nothing unusual for our family.

Feeling somewhat apologetic, I brought tea to Tamaki-san. “It’s nothing much, but here.”

“This house actually had some high-grade tea leaves? How unexpected. I feel as surprised as I would if I’d just incorrectly guessed the culprit of a mystery novel.”

“Ugh. I see you’re as blunt as ever.”

“I pride myself for my honesty,” he said, happily drinking the tea.

I just don’t get you… I’d known Tamaki-san since I was old enough to be aware of my surroundings, but not once had I managed to get a read on his personality. Was he kind? Was he mean? Even now, I was left guessing. What’s worse, his character shifted from time to time, leaving me at a loss as to how to act toward him. Today, he seemed a bit irate, but that much was completely understandable after Shinonome-san missed his deadline and bailed.

As I was thinking such things, Tamaki-san said, “Oh, that reminds me. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

He squinted at me with his clouded right eye. It was unusual for the well-learned story-seller to have something to ask me. I turned to face him, and he locked on to me with that foggy gaze.

“I heard the rumors. That Suimei person you mentioned…is a former exorcist, right?”

“Right. We let him stay here for a while after he wandered into the spirit realm all injured.”

“I see…” he said, before dipping into thought for a short while. When he finally did speak again, he chose his words carefully. “I heard he was…bound to an Inugami?”

“Yup. The reason he came to the spirit realm in the first place was to look for his Inugami partner.”

“Oh?” Tamaki-san leaned in, urging me to continue.

I was a bit bewildered by this new behavior Tamaki-san was exhibiting, but I continued regardless. I talked about all the twists and turns the pair had experienced leading up to the incident with Jorogumo, and how their bond had for a moment seemed irreparable, but that it was eventually restored, leading to their choice to live together.

“I see…” Tamaki-san wore a thin smile. He then asked me a most unexpected question. “I take it the exorcist has been freed of his ancient bindings?”

“Huh? Ancient what-now?”

“The foolish customs restricting that Suimei fellow; he’s free of them, no?”

“O-oh. Yeah.”

The ancient bindings Tamaki-san was referring to were the intentional suppression of emotions that those bound to Inugami had to endure. Inugami could bring a family great fortune, but not without a cost. If someone bound to an Inugami were to feel jealousy toward another, that person would be cursed with ruin, sickness, and pain. So, to continue enjoying the fortunes the Inugami brought, their users suppressed all their feelings, as any stray emotion might inadvertently lead to jealousy.

It was an abhorrent practice, one that had deprived Suimei of a very basic right. Thankfully, it was all in the past now.

“Hey, Tamaki-san. How do you know so much about those bound to Inugami and their practices?” I asked, curious. Such things weren’t widely known, after all.

Due to the nature of their work, exorcists were often hated by spirits. Tamaki-san was a long-lived spirit, even if he took the form of a human now. He wasn’t as simpleminded as Shinonome-san either, and his thoughts were complex and hard to read. If, by some chance, he had a grudge against exorcists, things might become problematic.

I felt a shiver run down my spine and cursed myself for thoughtlessly talking about Suimei. I swallowed, then timidly asked, “You’re not thinking of doing anything strange to Suimei, are you?”

Tamaki-san brought his teacup to his lips and said, “I haven’t the faintest idea what’s made you so apprehensive. I am a story-seller. I collect stories and anecdotes about exorcists all the time. Naturally, that includes those of Inugami exorcists.”

“Ohhh. Of course.” A wave of relief washed over me, and I smiled. At the same time, I felt shame for doubting a close friend of Shinonome-san’s.

“Oh, right, right.” Tamaki-san seemed to remember something out of the blue and began rummaging through his bag. “I almost forgot. Rejoice, for I have brought your bookstore more work. No need to rejoice as much as a bookworm receiving their first book of the year.”

He handed me a single manila envelope. I looked inside to find a list of spirits who wanted to borrow books, the names of the books they wanted to borrow, and a bunch of other information of dubious relevancy—all written in neat and compact lines.

“Uh… Am I supposed to just deliver these books to them?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Huh? But aren’t you the one who brought this list to me?”

I could feel Tamaki-san peer at me through his sunglasses. “The one who received these orders was me, but the one who decides how to fulfill them is you. All the information you need is there. Whether you spare no effort or give none at all is your choice. You can work according to the requests’ rewards or even wait until you have spare time. It’s all up to you.”

He then took his teacup, tilted his head back, and drank it dry. “You’re free to interpret everything as you like. That is all.”

I gave the order forms in my hands a good, hard look and calmly thought over Tamaki-san’s riddle-like words. I then decided I would undertake the work. “Got it. I’ll give it a shot!”

“Very good. Oh, and one more thing…” He slowly stood and walked over to the closet in Shinonome-san’s room. In one swift motion, he slid the closet door aside and said, “I’ll be borrowing this man until he finishes his manuscript.”

The closet opened with a smooth, gratifying sound to reveal Shinonome-san, crammed into a space far too small for his body. He looked even more ragged than usual, perhaps on account of the small space, and he smiled awkwardly as he raised a hand. “H-hey… So I’m actually against that whole Kaori taking on more shifts thing from earlier…”

Tamaki-san and I both let out a weary sigh, before moving to catch Shinonome-san as he tried to flee.

 

Several days later, one of the dates listed on the order form had arrived, so I went to a back-alley street in a corner of town. It was an unremarkable and gloomy street, with nothing but a dilapidated door at the end of it. There, I waited for my friends. The day’s job would have been a bit much for me alone, so I figured I might as well get the whole gang together.

I played with the fluttering glimmerflies and waited. Eventually, a lone black cat approached.

“I can’t believe you. You’d seriously go that far just to lend books?”

It was Nyaa-san. She glared at me with her mismatched eyes, one sky-blue and one golden. Her three tails restlessly waved in the air, a sign that she was in a foul mood. She was a Kasha spirit and my dear childhood friend. We’d been together since youth, so it was no exaggeration to say she was family. She knew me better than I knew myself, corrected me when I erred, and always tagged along for adventures—even if she did complain all the while.

“Sorry, I guess?” I said.

She shook her head and sighed. “You’ll go even if I try to stop you, so I might as well tag along.”

“Nyaa-san!” Overjoyed, I hugged her. I spun her around in circles and shoved my face into her, then inhaled until my lungs were full of the smell of her sunbaked fur, causing her to thrash.

“You know I don’t like to be touched without permission!”

“Right. Sorry. I got carried away.” I put her nose to mine and smiled.

Her face grew conflicted, then she let out a deep sigh before licking my nose with her rough tongue. “Well, they’ll probably have some tasty fish over there… All right, brush me once we get home, serve me some of that higher-end canned food, and no cutting my claws for the time being. Got it?”

“Got it. I’ll bring out some of that extra special canned food I’ve been saving.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The two of us giggled. That was when Kinme and Ginme arrived.

“That’s Nyaa-san for you, always the clever one. I’m really looking forward to this trip. I’ve been wanting to go for a while now,” Kinme said.

“Yeaaah! I can’t wait!” Ginme said.

In contrast to Nyaa-san, who was making a sour face, the two twins looked as happy as could be. They were childhood friends of mine, like Nyaa-san. The easygoing one with sleepy golden eyes was Kinme, and the rambunctious one with cheery silver eyes was Ginme. They were raven Tengu spirits. Unlike most spirits though, they were younger than me, and so they regarded me like an older sister, and I regarded them like little brothers.

The pair loved anything fun and had gleefully offered their help when I told them where I was going. They had arrived wearing differently colored aloha shirts, as well as swimming trunks, float rings, and snorkeling goggles—in other words, they were fully decked out for a swim.

“I wonder what kind of food they’ve got over there. Let’s make sure we eat lots and lots, Ginme.”

“Oooh, I wanna go to the beach, and go diving, and go see the Blue Grotto, and go to the coral reefs, and everything!” Ginme then gave me a sidelong glance and blushed. “Hey, Kaori, you got some time after this job? I was thinking we could hang out together afterward for a bit. I-I hear there’s this place that looks real nice in the evening. How about it? Just you and, um…”

“How about the three of us all go together?”

“K-Kinme, you idiot! It’s supposed to be just Kaori and me!”

Kinme sadly slumped his shoulders, turning his back to Ginme and muttering, “Oh, I see. I’m being left out… Aww…”

“What?! No! That’s not it!” Ginme protested through teary eyes. Kinme, on the other hand, was actually smiling where his brother couldn’t see. He enjoyed messing with his easily teased twin.

“What close brothers,” I said, watching with a smile. That was when I heard a sigh. I looked to see a white-haired boy standing there with a fed-up look on his face.

“Your bookstore’s free to take business trips, but do you have to drag me along?”

“Suimei! You came!”

“Not because I wanted to.”

This was the former exorcist I had discussed with Tamaki-san. He looked as though he had been conjured from the lightest of pigments, with his pure-white hair, light-brown eyes, and skin pale enough to glow. He definitely would have been a hot item with women if it weren’t for his somewhat sour personality and awkward self-expression. Last I’d checked, he still had problems with emotions.

He grumbled something about Noname telling him to come, making me think there was a good chance that Noname—his employer at the apothecary—had half-forced him to come. She was pushy like that sometimes, something I knew well; she was the one who’d raised me in place of a mother. I could easily see her telling Suimei to go off and make some nice summer memories without leaving room for rebuttal.

“Did you get forced into this? Sorry,” I apologized, genuinely feeling bad.

His frown was conflicted. “I wasn’t exactly forced, but still… This is way too far a trip to make just to lend books.”

Suimei was about to continue his complaint, but he was immediately cut short by another ecstatic voice.

“Yahoo! Yahoo! This’ll be my first time traveling to the southern islands!”

“Kuro, settle down—”

“Have you ever been there, Suimei? You haven’t?! This’ll be a first for both of us then! Okinawaaaa!”

The owner of this ecstatic voice was Suimei’s partner, Kuro the Inugami. Kuro looked like any other dog at first glance, but being an Inugami, he had some traits that made him distinct. His body, covered in black fur and red spots, was a bit too long for a dog. One could easily mistake him for a weasel if it weren’t for his head being too large and his ears too pointed. Of course, above all else, the most distinct thing about him was that he could talk.

Kuro coiled around Suimei’s leg, his crimson eyes sparkling with excitement while his pink tongue hung from his mouth. “Hey, hey, are you excited too?!”

Suimei looked down at Kuro—who was ecstatic to the point that he swung not just his tail but his hips as well—and froze. A bead of sweat rolled down his face. Eventually, he carefully picked up Kuro and said, “Yeah. Can’t wait.”

“I knew it!”

This was Shirai Suimei. At first glance, he appeared to be the calm and collected sort, but he was actually a complete softie for his dog.

“I get the feeling you’re thinking something incredibly rude right now…” Suimei glared at me as though my thoughts had been laid bare.

“Not at all,” I hurriedly denied as I walked away. I scooped Nyaa-san up into my arms and peeped back at Suimei to see him dutifully listening to Kuro ramble. A gentle smile graced the boy’s face; not a shadow of the customs that once shackled him remained.

Thank goodness… I felt genuine relief from the bottom of my heart. Then Nyaa-san slipped out of my arms.

“Can we go already? Okinawa’s pretty far.” She walked up to the nearby dilapidated door and looked back at me with impassive eyes.

“Right. Let’s get going.”

Our destination was Okinawa. The Okinawa, famously ideal vacation spot. The spirit who’d made the order was unique to Okinawa as well, so there was a lot to look forward to.

Kuro, still in Suimei’s arms, asked, “So, how are we getting to Okinawa? It’s an island, so maybe by plane? Boat? Are we going to go to an airport or dock now?”

Ah, déjà vu. Nyaa-san and I exchanged glances and giggled.

Suimei looked lost for words as he looked down at his partner, so I said, “We’re not using the human world’s public transportation. Who knows when we’d get there if we did, and it’s already too late anyway. Besides, where would we get the money?!”

At this, Kuro looked even more confused. “Then how are we going?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I thrust open the dilapidated door before us. Cold, white flakes instantly fluttered toward us from within as chilly air brushed my skin, giving me gooseflesh. I reflexively steeled my body.

Beyond the door lay hell, specifically the seventh of the Eight Cold Hells—the Hell of the Crimson Lotus. Its chill froze not only the bodies of the dead but their screams and souls as well. The skin of the damned souls trapped there was rent open by the cold, leading their blood to freeze into what resembled a crimson lotus flower, hence the name.

Kuro looked frightfully into the hell, then at me. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” I replied. I firmly grasped Suimei’s arm. “Oh, right. You were unconscious when you passed through here before.”

I smiled and began to drag both of them into hell. “Well, better you learn now than never. The spirit realm and hell are connected. In hell, space-time can be a bit warped, and the laws of physics are sometimes reversed. That’s why traveling to someplace far away, like Okinawa, can be done super quick by going through it.”

“S-Suimei?! She’s joking, right?!” Kuro looked to Suimei for help, but his master could only shake his head in defeat.

“That’s just how things are in this world. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

“Wh-what’s with that look of enlightenment?! Just what in the world have you gone through?! Nooo! I don’t wanna go to hell! Noooooooooooo!” Kuro’s shrill scream echoed throughout our grim destination.

In an instant, piercing cold air enveloped our bodies.

 

***

 

We arrived in a dense subtropical forest. The twittering of birds I’ve never heard before reached my ears, and I was surrounded by unfamiliar fauna that strove toward the heavens to spread their leaves. Moisture clung to those leaves, making them appear a deeper, more vibrant green as they layered over and masked any path a would-be traveler might take.

This place, practically a jungle with all its teeming life, was known as the Valley of Gangala. It was located on the southern part of Okinawa’s main island and had once been the site of limestone caverns, hundreds of thousands of years ago. Said limestone caverns had collapsed over the passage of time, leaving a lush, verdant valley in their wake, one that had at some point been inhabited by the Minatogawa hominids of the Paleolithic era.

The valley was roughly the area of Tokyo Dome and had been opened to the public in 1972, but due to a pollution-related incident, it had been sealed off only a few years later until the river environment could heal. Reopened in 2008, it remained open to this day, but only for guided tours—no regular entry. Perhaps because of those circumstances, many ancient spirits made it their home.

“I’m counting on you, Nyaa-san.”

“Yes, yes.”

Nyaa-san’s body creaked as she quickly changed from a size able to fit in my arms to the size of a tiger. Flames coiled around her feet, and she stretched, showing off her supple body. I fastened the many bags I’d brought onto her, reminding myself to splurge on some extra-luxurious canned food to make it up to her later.

“Let’s proceed quietly, everyone,” I said.

We set off, staying off the intended path so we wouldn’t be spotted by any tourists or tour guides. After proceeding in silence like that for some time, doing nothing but swatting aside the leaves taller than ourselves, we stepped onto a path bordered by two rugged, sheer cliffs. On one of the cliffs draped an enormous banyan tree that one couldn’t help but look up at.

“Whoa… It’s huge.”

“Holy. It’s ginormous!”

Kinme and Ginme expressed their awe at what was known as the “Sage of the Forest,” a banyan tree said to have lived for over five hundred years that was affectionately considered the lord of the Valley of Gangala.

Suimei looked up at the tree towering over us from the cliff edge. “It’s incredible. What are all those things on it? Vines?”

“Those are aerial roots,” I answered. “Some trees are like that.”

This banyan tree was enormous, but the majority of it was actually aerial root, not trunk. What trunk it had extended aerial roots down the cliff like a cascading waterfall. The aerial roots that reached the earth below became supports that helped the trunk prop up the tree’s weight. All in all, its height was around twenty meters, the tallest known tree in all of Okinawa.

“Banyan trees are sometimes called the trees of happiness,” I said to Suimei as the piece of trivia suddenly came to my mind. “Know why?”

“Hmm… Is it because they look like they’re carrying down happiness?” he guessed. “This one looks more like a grumpy old man to me, though.”

“Aha ha, I can kind of see that, with how the aerial roots hang down like hair. No, the reason has to do with the spirit that lives in banyan trees.” As I spoke, I took something out from my bag: the order forms I had received from Tamaki-san. After confirming the contents of the one in question, I took a stick and drew a circle on the ground, then scattered another thing I had brought along.

“What’s that white stuff?” Kinme asked.

“That’s flour, right? But what for?” Ginme wondered.

I glanced up to see Suimei and Kuro also watching me curiously. Being the center of attention so suddenly left me embarrassed. “J-just a moment!”

I put some incense in the center of the circle and was done. “This is a traditional Okinawan ritual used to see the footprints of a certain spirit. You’re normally supposed to do this in a dark place, but…I’m sure the lord of the valley will invite us in. The one I’m here to see is the spirit in the banyan tree, after all.”

After telling everyone to move back a bit, I shouted at the circle. “Kijimuna, saatakamahi!” This was an Okinawan spell that translated to “Kijimuna, I’ve brought you sugar.”

The effects were immediate. Bright onibi-like lights appeared from thin air, drifting aimlessly for a moment before moving inward, toward the circle’s center. Then, lo and behold, on the white powder I’d scattered beforehand, a small footprint appeared, like that of a child.

The footprint was alone for a few moments, until suddenly more appeared, running off in a direction. I hopped onto Nyaa-san’s back and shouted, “Follow those prints!”

“Try not to get left behind, mutt.”

“Humph! Who are you calling a mutt, cat?!”

“Hey, wait up, Kaori!”

“Looks like we better start running, Suimei.”

“Whoa! This is getting me pumped!”

We followed the white footprints as they caked the ground, moving deeper and deeper into the forest. Gradually, the density of the surrounding banyan trees rose, and we had to jump, dive, and slip through the meandering maze of aerial roots to proceed. It must have been some twenty-something minutes before we reached a small clearing.

We were in a forest of banyan trees. They were everywhere you looked, and they varied in size, but towering over them all was a single banyan in the center. Perhaps, once upon a time, it too had been small, but over the years its aerial roots had grown unfettered, forming complex knots and overlapping to become the titan it was today. Between its roots were numerous small hollows, making it look like a house plucked straight from a children’s book. My heart was tickled by the fairy tale quality of the scene.

Kuro spotted something to the side and shouted, “Suimei, look, look! There’s fish swimming!”

“Huh? What are you…” Suimei followed Kuro’s gaze and let his jaw drop.

Here and there, pouring out of the shadows and hollows of trees, were vibrantly colored tropical fish. They swam through the air as though the forest itself were their aquarium. The rounded green leaves of the banyan trees fluttered in the wind like aquatic plants, and together with the richly shaded fish, they formed quite the picturesque tableau.

A school of fish, big and small, swam past me just close enough to reach out and touch. If I were to visit the Palace of the Dragon King from Urashima Taro’s fairy tale, I thought, it would surely look something like this.

“Hello! I’m here from the bookstore!” I hopped off Nyaa-san’s back and called out. Nobody replied, though I could feel eyes watching me from all over.

Just then, someone appeared from within the great banyan tree in the center. At first glance, they appeared to be a child. But their hair was a vivid red, and their skin was as copper-brown as Ryukyu roof tiles. On their waist was a skirt made from grass, and their body was somewhat disproportionate with their arms, which were just slightly too long.

They were a Kijimuna spirit, the same kind of spirit I had traveled all the way to Okinawa for on a request.

“Mensore, and thank you for comin’.” After a bow, the Kijimuna flashed a toothy smile.

As if that were the signal, a number of similar-looking people popped their heads out of the hollows of the great banyan tree.

“Mensore!” they cried in unison.

They then excitedly descended from the tree and crowded around us.

“Wh-whoa, whoa, whoa?! Um, h-hello?” I ventured.

“Nee-nee, we’ve been waitin’ for ya!”

“Haisai!”

“Haitai!”

I became flustered, overwhelmed by the Kijimuna calling out to me with Okinawan words I didn’t understand. I froze, unsure of what to do as they curiously pulled at our clothes and bags.

“Eek! Don’t pull my tail!” Kuro was on the verge of tears after being mobbed by the Kijimuna.

Before I realized it, Kinme, Ginme, and Nyaa-san had escaped to the skies. Suimei was left on the ground, equally as helpless as I.

Just what is going on?!

While I was still at a loss, the first Kijimuna approached and said, “I’ll be countin’ on your help today!”

Half in tears, I pleaded, “Could you do something about these guys first?”

 

The Kijimuna were Okinawan spirits that were also known by many other names, including Kijimun and Bunagaya. They lived in old trees like banyan, sea fig, fukugi, and chinaberry, and they generally had child-like bodies, as well as red faces and hair. They were known for their love of pulling pranks; they might trick people into eating red clay disguised as red bean rice or get people stuck in tree hollows that were normally too small to enter. Quite the mischievous spirits.

At the same time, they were also known for bringing happiness to homes in which they took interest. As such, Okinawan fishermen practically always planted banyan trees at their homes for good luck—and because Kijimuna were known as spirits that helped with fishing.

Conversely, if someone angered a Kijimuna, they would be met with all kinds of misfortune. Some stories even ended in offenders losing their lives.

However, there was one thing that made them remarkably similar to humans: they formed families.

 

Once the sun set, stars twinkled across the sky, and the forest of banyan trees stood still in the dark, with nothing but the pupils of nocturnal beasts to light it. Even the air-swimming fish slept as the entirety of the forest waited with bated breath for the coming dawn.

Such was a typical night in the forest. But tonight was no typical night. Even long after the sun sank below the horizon, the forest was filled with light. Today was the birthday of Ami, a Kijimuna girl.

Decorations dotted the forest, and the onibi made by the Kijimuna had been placed everywhere for light. Tropical flowers littered the earth, and the plucking of a sanshin, a precursor to the shamisen, could be heard. Schools of fish danced to the rhythm, as did the Kijimuna themselves as they drank. Everyone smiled and sang and danced, celebrating Ami’s special day with all their heart.

Before the great banyan tree was the main grounds of the celebration. There sat Ami, the star of the day. She wore a flower crown woven from hibiscus and a dress made from leaves, and she received everyone’s congratulations with a smile. She did not speak, however, as she’d caught a cold some time ago and still had a sore throat.

A line of delicacies lay before her, the majority of which were made from fish from Okinawa’s coastal waters. We were allowed to partake in the dishes as well and thoroughly delighted in the soft, rare fish meats.

There was deep-fried double-lined fusilier fish, steephead parrotfish in vinegared miso, some large saw-edged perch fish broiled with salt, fried fish cake, erabu black-banded sea krait soup, and more.

“Whoa!” Kuro exclaimed. “What’s this erabu stuff?! I’ve never had anything like it! It’s plump and chewy, but utterly flavorless!”

“Is…that a good thing?” Suimei mused.

“Oh, but it’s delicious in soup. You should try it, Suimei!”

“I think I’m good.” Suimei, knowing the soup’s meat came from a sea snake, quickly declined Kuro’s offer.

Seeing this, a Kijimuna approached. “Do you not like erabu? Then what about this?”

“Uwaaauugh!” Suimei recoiled on sight. The Kijimuna had brought over a heaping plate of fish eyes.

Kinme and Ginme swooped over, grinning.

“Oooh, lucky you, Suimei! Make sure you eat it all up!” Ginme said.

“Did you know Kijimuna really like eating the right eyeballs of fish? Anyway, here’s a spoon,” Kinme said.

“No, stop it! If it’s so great, why don’t you two eat it?!”

“No way,” they chorused together.

Suimei treated the twins rather coldly; perhaps he was self-conscious about being so much shorter than them? Regardless, the twins continued to pester him like a friend, claiming that he was fun and that he acted as the straight man for their jokes.

“Looks like they’re having fun.” I watched the three squawk at each other as I took it easy, enjoying my food alone. Kuro ate his food in a trance while Nyaa-san snuck up behind him with a thrashing sea snake in her mouth. I could expect more hilarity to ensue soon.

Suddenly, the first Kijimuna from earlier approached. I knew him now as Ami’s father, Kumu. He sat down next to me and looked over at Ami, still happily enjoying her birthday. “I’m counting on you for the next event,” he said.

“Don’t worry, I came prepared. I’ll make this the best birthday ever.”

He grew silent, his face on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing, I just…feel a little sad is all.”

“Sad…?” I asked, confused as to why he would feel sad on such a happy occasion.

“That girl’s an adult starting today.”

“Really? How old is she?”

“Five.”

“That’s…young.”

“Maybe to you humans, but not to us Kijimuna.”

Kijimuna had male and female genders and formed families, both fairly uncommon things amongst spirits. Apparently, there were even tales of Kijimuna marrying humans. Anyway, it was tradition for Kijimuna women to begin preparations to marry after coming of age.

“Ami is the most beautiful girl in the forest. I’m sure she’ll find someone to marry right away.” Kumu sighed deeply before continuing. “She’s loved books ever since she was a child, treasuring the few that washed up on our shores. For a long time, I’ve wanted to at least let her read as many books as she wanted, before she became of age and got married.”

And so, Kumu had met Tamaki when the story-seller stopped by Okinawa. Once he learned of Kumu’s circumstances, Tamaki said he’d introduce our bookstore to him, leading to the present situation.

“As a father, I wanted to do something for Ami; I wanted to give her a memory she would never forget even after she married. After all, what father doesn’t want to give their daughter something special? I’m happy I can do just that now, but still…the sadness still lingers.”

Kumu looked at his daughter, smiling and surrounded by people. “Will she be happy?” he wondered aloud. “Will she find someone nice to make a family with? I know there’s no use in worrying at this point, but I just can’t stop.”

I could tell he truly treasured his daughter. An answering pang rose in my chest. “The worries of a father never pass, do they?” I said.

Kumu’s face scrunched up into a smile. “No, no, I’m just a doting fool who felt he had to do more for his daughter to make up for a lack of a mother. Thank you for helping by bringing your books.” He looked at me head-on. “You people are invaluable to us spirits. It’s hard for us to come by books, you see.”

He began talking, detailing how spirits like himself found the ever-changing humans they shared the world with fascinating and wanted to learn more about them. Of course, what better way was there to do that then through books? But for spirits who lived in the forest, mountains, and seas, maintaining a book through winds and rain proved a constant struggle.

“Truth is, we’d like to own books ourselves,” he said. “But such a thing is difficult as long as we live with the banyan trees.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here for. If you liked our services this time, please feel free to call upon us again. We’ll always be there to deliver any book you want.”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

“Not at all. I’m more than happy to help with your daughter’s present.”

Kumu bowed his head profusely to me before going over to Ami. I watched him leave and sat down on a nearby large stump. All of a sudden, I was restless with the urge to see Shinonome-san. But I knew very well that I couldn’t see him right that moment and tried to calm myself down. That was when Suimei approached.

“Chatting up the clients?” he asked.

“I certainly wouldn’t phrase it that way…”

“What? Am I wrong?”

“No, I suppose not.”

He sat down beside me and watched as Kuro ran like his life was on the line, fleeing from Nyaa-san, still holding that sea snake. I presumed Suimei had succeeded in getting the twins to eat the eyeballs in his stead. I watched his face in profile and, suddenly feeling emotional, loosened a worry I had been bottling. “Am I trying too hard?”

He didn’t reply.

Even so, I continued. “Is it stupid of me to deliver books all the way out to the southern islands? I could have just used the time to take more shifts at my part-time job; that would have given me the money I need to pay for living expenses. If I wanted to bring more business to the bookstore, I could have just worked on advertising or something. But…”

I looked up at the fish wafting through the night air and felt like crying. “I want to deliver books to each and every spirit with a desire to read, as long as it’s a distance my two feet can take me. That might make me a failure as a businesswoman, but if it means I can make even just one more spirit love books, I’m happy. Because I’m a book lover as well… I don’t know, maybe I’m just being silly.”

Suimei finally looked over at me and, with a soft smile and a chuckle, said, “I didn’t say anything. You’re just talking yourself down.”

“Mgh… Wait, really?”

“Yup.” He gazed up at the stars visible through the leaves of the banyan trees. “…Who cares?” he whispered. “Just do what you like.”

He stood up and began to walk away.

“Suimei!” I rose to my feet and called after him. Taken at face value, his words were insincere. But I felt a deeper underlying meaning. “Do you really think it’s okay for me to do what I want?” I asked.

He turned around and narrowed his eyes, brown and filled with sweetness, like bekkoame hard candy. “Yeah. I’ve seen you help many people firsthand just by delivering books.”

Speaking no further, he left. Perhaps he meant to help Kinme and Ginme, currently being cornered by Nyaa-san.

I took a deep, long breath and placed my hand against my chest. My heart raced, badump-badump, as though cheering me on. “Yeah… I’ll try my best!”

I psyched myself up and began my preparations for the night.

 

***

 

The moon had sunk a bit by the time the celebration reached its peak.

Everyone had begun presenting their presents to Ami. All around her, piles of beautiful seashell jewelry, brand-new leaf dresses, and fresh and dried fish towered higher and higher.

Ami, unable to speak, nodded deeply as she accepted every gift, then took the gifter’s hands into her own and looked them in the eyes as she accepted their kind words. Then she stunned everyone with a smile so dazzling that even a human like me could understand that she was, indeed, the forest’s most beautiful girl. Yet I couldn’t help but feel conflicted every time I saw her smile; I felt like a faint shadow lay behind it.

Eventually, after the long line had dwindled and the majority of the presents had been given, Kumu came up to his daughter.

“Happy birthday, Ami.”

She nodded deeply and smiled.

He smiled back, a bit bashfully. “I, um… I got you a present,” he said hesitantly. “I hope you’ll like it.”

In his hands was a present enveloped in pink wrapping paper and gold-colored ribbon. The moment she laid eyes on this gift, so distinct from the rest, her face lit up. She excitedly began to undo the wrappings, taking diligent care not to damage whatever they might contain. It was as if she already knew whatever it was would be precious to her.

Inside were several picture books. Their covers alone showed a lot of thought had been put into their selection. They all contained excellent stories as well as wonderful illustrations, and they were appealing to children and adults alike.

Ami’s eyes shot open wide the moment she saw the picture books, and she hugged them tightly against her chest. Pearl-like teardrops formed on her long eyelashes, and her cheeks flushed a rosy red. Her lovely face softened as a look of absolute, overwhelming joy took over.

“We’re just borrowing the books, so we’ll have to give them back eventually, but we can always borrow the ones you like again,” Kumu said.

Ami nodded, looking over each picture book lovingly and tracing a finger over their covers. She came across one strange book that stood out from the rest, regarding it with some confusion before passing it over to her father.

“Hm? What’s with this book? Did it get mixed in by accident?” he asked.

The book’s cover and contents were completely blank. No matter how much he flipped through it, not a single illustration—let alone a word—was present. Deeply confused, the two looked at me.

I clenched my hands, clammy from my nerves, and smiled. “That book is a special magic book, one made by our very own bookstore. You need somebody who’s been trained to read it…somebody like me, for example. Shall I read it for you? Everyone else is welcome to listen in, of course!”

The two looked at each other, then nodded.

The real deal begins now. Let’s do this!

I psyched myself up and looked straight ahead.

 

Everyone gathered in front of the great banyan tree, sitting in a half-circle before me. I took a deep breath and, in a slightly theatrical tone, said, “My, oh my, what a strange item we have here. Could a blank book like this really be considered a book?”

Just then, Kuro came forward, holding a pail in his mouth. He strolled over, swinging his hips and wagging his tail, and placed the pail by my feet with a proud look on his face. I thanked him and plunged my hand into the pail.

“The truth is, this book changes with a little bit of magic. Here, let me show you…” I pulled a wet sponge out of the bucket and began to rub it against the book’s cover.

“You’ll soak the book!” somebody cried out. But their voice soon became a murmur of pleasant surprise, for the moment the sponge contacted the paper, the bright colors of an illustration began to reveal themselves.

This was a picture book with a twist. It was printed with a special ink that made the pictures appear only once the page had been wet.

I looked over everyone’s faces, then began to give voice to the feelings stored within the book. “Once upon a time, there lived a happy father-daughter Kijimuna family.”

Ami and Kumu looked at each other and smiled. They then looked back at the book, spellbound.

“The father, who lost his wife at a young age, and the daughter, who wanted to repay the father who worked hard to raise her alone—both wanted to do something for the other. Yet no matter how hard they thought, no good ideas came to mind. They lived in a forest, and in a forest, it was hard to come across special things. But that all changed one day when a certain man came to the forest.”

I brushed the sponge against the page, revealing a gaudily dressed man wearing sunglasses.

“Tamaki-san…?” Recognizing the person pictured, the crowd began to whisper.

I grinned wryly to myself. Even in picture book form, Tamaki-san’s unique style made him instantly recognizable. I continued the story. “The two Kijimuna each visited the man from the mainland, thinking he just might know what the perfect present would be. The first to visit was the father.

“The father spoke of his daughter’s love for books, and the man agreed to provide some in exchange for something of value. And so, the father gave the man pearls he had painstakingly worked to collect. The man took the pearls and immediately chased the father away.

“The next day, the daughter visited the man and said she wanted to grant her father’s dream.”

“Huh? My dream?” Kumu mumbled, confused. Ami’s naturally red face burned an even deeper shade of red as she hung her head.

“Upon hearing about the father’s dream, the man boasted that he could grant it. He then demanded something of value in exchange, but unfortunately, the daughter had nothing to give. ‘Very well, then,’ the man said. ‘Until your voice gives out, tell me everything you know.’ The daughter did just that, teaching the man about the spirits of Okinawa, of the folktales of every region, and of the stories passed orally through generations of Kijimuna. She continued for three days and three nights, until her voice grew hoarse and vanished. The man, satisfied, left.”

I only got that far when Kumu interrupted me in a fit of pique. He grabbed Ami’s arm and bellowed, “I thought you lost your voice to a cold! Oh, no… How could such a thing happen to your lovely voice?!”

Ami slipped out of his grasp and shook her head with a smile. She then looked over at me and nodded deeply.

I was left momentarily stunned by Kumu’s outburst, but I regained my composure and continued, brushing a page with the sponge. The image of the daughter, praying, appeared.

“The daughter prayed every day for her wish to be granted. But no matter how many days passed, the man never returned. She began to wonder if she was tricked when, right on her birthday, a group of people arrived with books.”

Just then, Kinme and Ginme approached from behind. The two hefted over a large cooler box we had brought from the spirit realm and set it down.

“The group delivered the books to the father. With this, he now had a present to give to his daughter for her birthday. The father’s request had been granted…and now the daughter’s could be too.”

Ami took her father’s hands into hers. Her eyes were wet with tears as she looked at her father, who stared back at her in confusion.

In her place, I said, “Kumu-san, I hear you have a dream. Would you be so kind as to tell everyone here what it is?”

Overcome with emotion, Kumu couldn’t find the right words. We all patiently waited, until finally, he began to speak. “…Ever…ever since I was a young boy, I’ve wanted to see snow!”

I smiled as I wet the next page with the sponge, revealing a banyan tree blanketed in pure-white snow. “Then allow us to grant your wish!”

Kinme and Ginme threw open the cooler box. From inside blew a gust of frigid air.

 

Large snowflakes gracefully fluttered down into the forest. It was now cold enough for our breath to be visible, and the vibrant deep green that was characteristic of the tropics was dyed white, bit by bit. Snow drifted through the air and showed no signs of stopping, and something flew as well—not fish, but a group of women clad in white. Yuki-Onna.

“Whooooaaa! It’s snowing!” the Kijimuna exclaimed. They gleefully grabbed at the snow in the air and built snowmen from the thin layer that formed on the ground. Kuro and Nyaa-san, as well as Kinme and Ginme, joined them, quickly becoming covered in snow. No matter their age, each and every one of them played to their heart’s content in the pure-white dreamscape.

“In truth, it snowed here in Okinawa once, a few years ago,” Kumu admitted bashfully. His face beamed as he watched the snow. “But I was asleep then and missed it. I only learned how wonderful it was from everyone afterward. I was so distraught to have slept through a chance to fulfill my dream. To think you remembered…”

Kumu put his hands on Ami’s cheeks, tears streaming from his eyes. “Thank you for granting my dream, but you shouldn’t have traded your voice for it. My dream is nothing next to your lovely voice…”

He hugged her, tears still streaming down. Ami blinked a few times, seemingly confused.

“Pfft!” I couldn’t help but laugh.

Suimei, standing next to me, shot me a nasty glare. “There’s nothing funny about this. She lost her voice!”

“Pft, ha ha ha… B-but—” I wiped the tears out of my eyes and said, “Tamaki-san doesn’t have the ability to steal somebody’s voice or anything.”

“Huh?”

“Ami’s voice is just worn out. That’s all.”

As I said that, a Yuki-Onna approached, descending before Ami. She took out something from her breast pocket and said with a laugh, “Did you know pearls are also known as mermaid tears? The same mermaids who sing such lovely songs.”

In her hand was a large pearl. The moment he saw it, Kumu exclaimed, “That’s my pearl!”

The Yuki-Onna pulled out yet another object from her breast pocket, this time a packet of powdered medicine. She opened the packet, crushed the pearl between her fingers, and mixed the two before handing it to Ami. “This is a special medicine made by an apothecary in the spirit realm. Go ahead, swallow it down. All spirits who sing make frequent use of this medicine.”

Ami nodded, and she nervously swallowed down the medicine. She tried to speak, but her throat could only make a wheezing sound. Kumu slumped his shoulders, looking like all hope was lost, until…

“Aaah… Aah!”

“Ami?!”

“Aaah, I can speak. I can speak!” she exclaimed, her voice as clear and beautiful as the ringing of a bell. She hugged her father, overjoyed.

Kumu’s face wrinkled into a smile. “Amazing. Today’s supposed to be Ami’s birthday, and yet it feels like it’s mine at the same time.”

Pearl-like tears fell down his cheeks as he gently hugged his daughter back.

 

“So that’s why you went out of your way to go through the Hell of the Crimson Lotus?” Suimei asked me as Ami consoled her weeping father.

“Heh heh. Whatever are you talking about?” I replied. He was right on the money, of course. We had picked up the Yuki-Onna when we passed through that very hell. They had been more than happy to come along when presented with those pearls.

“You even prepared some medicine from Noname and that picture book. Pretty thorough.”

“Heh, I had a lot of help. But feel free to compliment me more, if you’d like.”

The blank book I’d read today was, of course, durable against water. I intended to give it to the father-daughter pair as a present, rather than the rest, which we were just lending. The pictures were a bit amateurish, but…I thought it’d still make a nice gift.

“Just who was the guy who arranged this order anyway? Another philanthropist like you?”

“Well…not exactly.” I reached out and let a piece of snow fall into my hand. “A man named Tamaki-san helped set this up, but he’s not exactly as kind as you think.”

“What do you mean?”

I handed Suimei the order form I’d received from Tamaki-san. On it were various details ranging from how to call out the Kijimuna, Kumu’s dream, Ami’s love for books, and her birthday…but that was all. There wasn’t a single mention or suggestion on what to do, just plain facts listed out.

“This is normal for him. He leaves me with only the information and forces me to figure out what to do with it, basically saying, ‘Whether you succeed or not depends on you alone.’”

“Then what would have happened if things hadn’t played out like they did? What if you screwed up and let down your customers?”

“I’d imagine he’d say the fault lay with me alone. I had all the information I needed but failed to make proper use of it.” I shrugged, then thought back on that weirdly dressed friend of my adoptive father’s. “That’s just how he is. He’ll get you the necessary info but won’t tell what path you need to go down. Even if you wind up taking the wrong route, he still won’t say a thing. It’s like he’s the character in a story who tells the main character where to go without caring what dangers they might face.”

“What the heck?” Suimei grimaced.

It certainly did sound like Tamaki-san was irresponsible for not caring what came of things, but in a way, he could also have been considered kind for trusting in my ability to work things out.

“I don’t know why he chooses to do things like this, but it’s how he is. He urges others to move but only observes the result from afar himself. It’s like he only cares about watching how things develop.” I sighed. My white breath quickly faded into the air. “The fact that I can’t understand him sometimes frightens me…but he can’t be all that bad if he’s Shinonome-san’s friend.”

“You certainly trust Shinonome a lot…”

“Of course I do. He’s my father!”

Suimei let out a deep sigh and bonked me on the head. “So the delivering of books, making a performance out of the picture book, and the snow were all your idea? You’re a real softie. Jeez…” With some exasperation, he added, “You’d really do anything to help others, huh?”

“Should I not?” I asked, smiling impishly.

He shrugged back and began, “Just do—” but stopped mid-sentence and thought some. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a faint smile. “Nah. It’s very much like you.”

“Hee hee, thank you.”

Once again, I looked back to the clearing. Bit by bit, the subtropical forest grew whiter before my eyes. The Kijimuna frolicked, enjoying the once-in-a-lifetime moment to the fullest with bright smiles on their faces. Those smiles were thanks to us, and thanks to a single book we had brought along.

“I’m glad I brought that book after all…”

With this, all my hard work was repaid in full.

I smiled, then put my hand over my warm chest.

 

Some time later, while we were undergoing preparations to make our way home, Ami approached. Kumu had drunk himself to sleep by this point after celebrating on awamori, a strong Okinawan liquor.

Ami gazed at her father, loudly snoring to the side. “Thank you for today,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to repay my father before I became married.”

“Like father, like daughter, I guess…” I said, eliciting a confused look from her. I proceeded to tell her what her father had said earlier: As a father, I wanted to do something for Ami; I wanted to give her a memory she would never forget even after she married.

Tears streamed down her face as she smiled. “I swear…I’ll always love my father. I won’t leave him all by himself, even after I get married.”

I offered her a handkerchief with a smile. Tears fell, but from a place of happiness. I squinted, finding myself a little envious. As blood-related family, those two could unconditionally love each other.

How nice. A fake daughter like me could never be like that…

I knew there was nothing I could do about it, but the realization still hurt from time to time.

“Is something the matter?” Ami asked.

“No, nothing.” I extended a hand to her. “If you ever feel like reading, please, order from us again.”

With a beaming smile, she nodded. “Of course! I’ll do just that.”

I smiled as well, nodding back. “Let the haunted bookstore take care of all your bookish needs!”