Side Story: Playing with Butterflies and Becoming Human

Side Story:
Playing with Butterflies and Becoming Human

 

THERE WERE TIMES I had to ask myself: Was I really human?

Ever since childhood, I was constantly told to suppress my emotions. Being bound to an Inugami meant feeling jealousy toward another would cause them pain, ruin, and sickness. As jealousy stemmed from emotions, I had to not feel anything in order to live a normal life.

But I’d never actually seen someone else suffer because of me.

The reason was simple. A slight curl of my lips, a small frown, a light crease in my brow—the slightest hint of any emotion whatsoever led the adults I knew to gather around and scold me. Nobody ever gave me the leeway to show emotion, so I never knew if showing any feeling would truly hurt someone. I wondered countless times: What if this whole thing was just a dated myth, or maybe even a lie?

They treated my emotions as though they were sins, surrounding me, scolding me. I remember I would cover my face with my small hands and beg for their forgiveness.

“I won’t smile. I won’t cry. I won’t be angry. So please, stop yelling…”

“You must not feel!” “You must not feel!” “You must not feel!”

“I haven’t felt jealous toward anyone, so please, let me feel something, just a little bit…”

“For your own sake—you must suppress your self!”

For my own sake…

Was it for my sake…?

That doubt clung to the back of my mind.

Life was difficult then. I had to suppress my emotions, my mind, my own being. But that was all in the past now; I didn’t need to suppress my emotions anymore. Even so, I still found it difficult to express myself, perhaps due to my upbringing. I feared I might hurt somebody.

“It’d be a bit of a problem if you hurt a client, so just suck it up and endure it.”

I remembered my father’s voice clearly. He always held me in his burly arms and whispered into my ear with a twisted smile. I could still feel it all now: his lukewarm breath against my earlobe, the smell of alcohol that made me want to pinch my nose, his uncomfortable body heat against my back, even his bony hands that he would run through my hair, which had lost its color.

I would resist the urge to cover my ears as best as I could as I waited out what felt like eternity.

Hey, Suimei. You’re the last of us bound to the Inugami. Your deadweight mother’s gone and kicked it, leaving just you behind to take care of the household. Got it?

Just feel nothing. Throw away your emotions. Become an exorcist and go earn money to make your father happy.

I remember how his words echoed around my lightless cell like a whispered curse: Just become a puppet, Suimei. A puppet that’ll move however I like…

Oh… Come to think of it, whenever I talked to someone back then, they always wore a specific pair of emotions on their face—fear and disgust. Perhaps it was only natural. My hair was white, and I made no expressions. That, coupled with the fact that I could order around an Inugami, a being beyond human understanding, made fear and disgust perfectly understandable.

I asked myself again: Was I really human? What sin must I have committed to be forbidden from what is permitted to all?

Perhaps I was wrong to assume I was ever human at all.

Yes… Yes, that must be it. I’m sure even now countless white strings are stretching down from the clouds above to bind my entire being.

 

***

 

“My, that’s some nasty swelling; I’ll get you some medicine, dear. Suimei, could you fix some up for me please?”

“Sure.”

“Kuro, could you be a darling and bring sweets out for our guest?”

“Yes!”

I prepared the necessary medicine as Noname cheerfully chatted up the patient, Akaname—a spirit that liked to lick the filth in bathtubs and bathrooms.

Akaname, who had come because of a terrible mouth ulcer, let out a sigh of relief and lowered her head. “Oh, I’m so relieved you can help. Thank you… Licking filth’s been so hard because of this ulcer.”

“You’ve been overworking yourself,” Noname chided. “Rest a bit, give your body the break it deserves.”

“I want to, I really do. But I just can’t bring myself to stop… You wouldn’t believe how much grime builds up in the baths of men who live alone.” Akaname flopped around her long and slimy tongue, then winced, likely because of the ulcer.

Noname ran a hand through Akaname’s moss-green hair, crossed the long legs jutting out of her Chinese-style dress, and smiled. “Just trust me and rest for a few days. You’ll be thankful you did,” she said with a coquettish wink.

That gesture, combined with her feminine charms, was enough to fluster most people. She had clear amber eyes, long moss-green hair, a head notably smaller than a normal person’s, and a pair of twisting bull horns on her head—an appearance certainly unique by human standards, though I doubt any human would deny her attractiveness. If a gullible man had been on the receiving end of that wink just now, he’d be head over heels for sure.

Unfortunately, the recipient was Akaname, a spirit with the form of a withered old lady. Far from charmed, she chuckled at the wink and shrugged. “Well, all right. I guess I could rest for a short while.”

“I’ll give you some ointment for your ulcer, as well as some medicine to drink. If it doesn’t heal by the time you run out, please do come again. It’ll be a problem if it’s actually a more serious ailment.”

Akaname smiled broadly and nodded.

Strictly speaking, the spirit realm had no doctors. This was because most spirits chose to heal their own injuries, even the serious ones. This was especially true for spirits living in nature, like the Kijimuna. Spirits were more akin to wild animals than people in that regard.

But in town, we had an apothecary. Many spirits who lived here crossed to and from the human world and were used to receiving medical treatment, which had created a demand for the apothecary’s services. The apothecary sold medicine like any normal apothecary, but this one was unique in that it also offered simple medical treatment. It was run by a nameless spirit who we simply called Noname, an enigmatic woman who seemed vaguely Chinese. She had invited me to work with her after I reunited with Kuro and quit my job as an exorcist.

“Whew! That’s the last check-up for the day. Good work, both of you.” With Akaname having left, Noname stretched her back.

With autumn’s arrival, business had picked up from all the spirits coming to stock up on medicine for the winter. The worst of it had already passed though, and the last few days had been fairly slow.

“Come join me for tea in the courtyard, Suimei. Kuro-chan should already be setting up. You don’t mind waiting until after tea to make dinner, do you?”

“Not at all.” I left the medicine mixing table behind and headed for the courtyard.

The inside of the apothecary had a foreign feel. There were Chinese-style transom windows with patterns complex yet beautiful, vivid red trinkets decorating various shelves, and a number of small, square medicine cabinets positioned around the medicine mixing table.

The cabinets lined the white, clay wall behind it and contained a myriad of glass containers holding ingredients for making medicine. A mortar and pestle sat atop the medicine mixing table, as well as a list of medicines and their effects. This spot alone smelled different from the rest of the shop.

Farther back, there was a courtyard surrounded by buildings on all sides. I recalled this being common in China, particularly in Beijing. Siheyuan, I believe it was called—a type of family home layout where rooms were situated in the four cardinal directions around a courtyard.

Noname, the owner of the house, lived in the north main room. Kuro and I were borrowing the east room. The west room was where Noname kept her massive collection of clothes, and the south room was the apothecary.

“Suimei! Over here, over here!” Kuro called for me the moment I stepped out into the courtyard. On the table was the Chinese tea Noname was so proud of.

I leisurely made my way toward Kuro. A sweet scent tickled my nose, coming from the tea olives planted in the courtyard. The season for flowers should be ending soon, but the white petals peering out from between the deep-green leaves still wafted strongly. Tea olives had a gentler scent than fragrant olives. Sweet, but not overbearingly so.

The tea olives weren’t the only thing adorning the courtyard, however. Autumnal flowers that could be used for medicine were planted everywhere, filling the courtyard with color. There were autumn bellflowers, great burnets, red spider lilies… Strange as it was, they all seemed to outlive their human world counterparts.

Starlight shone down on the fragrant courtyard, and a birdcage holding glimmerflies hung suspended from the passage leading up to it. This courtyard—lit only by the faint shimmers of stars and glimmerflies, and brimming with the scent of autumn—was a place where I always felt welcome.

“My, I’m thirsty.” Not long after I had taken a seat, Noname appeared. She hummed a tune as she poured out a cup of tea and drank it in one gulp. “Whew! That hits the spot. Nothing beats tea after a day of work!”

In a blink, her bewitching charm vanished. This prompted Kuro to whisper, “She’s kinda like an old man downing a drink after work, huh?”

Noname looked over at Kuro and gave him a charming smile. She then picked him up with a well-muscled arm and opened her third eye. “Fine! Biologically, I’m a man! But my heart is that of a maiden, so think twice before making such senseless comments! A maiden’s heart is as fragile as tofu!”

“Lies! Your heart is made out of concrete!” Kuro exclaimed.

“Even concrete can be easily broken by an excavator!”

“But it’s not fragile if you need an excavator?!”

Right. So…Noname was an older guy with the appearance of a young woman. Dressing like a woman seemed to be her hobby. In her own words, “Being a woman is more convenient.” As for what it was more convenient for…I figured I was better off not knowing.

Kuro’s and Noname’s yelling echoed through the courtyard. Kuro was fairly reserved when we’d first started living here, but he had become more outspoken as of late. He’d had a tummy ache recently, but other than that, he seemed to be enjoying life more. Although, I doubted he’d have much longer to enjoy it if he kept making thoughtless comments about Noname…

“You may be a middle-aged guy, but you’re prettier than anyone I know! It’s so confusing! Like, what is gender anyway?! Jeez!” Kuro groaned.

“Hm…? Oh. You think I’m pretty?” Noname said.

“Duh?! Who wouldn’t?” Kuro said, his tail whisking in the air.

Noname made a not wholly dissatisfied smile and lowered Kuro onto a chair. She then put some teacake in front of him. “For you, Kuro-chan.”

“Yay! I can have this?! Yahoo!”

Well, all’s well that ends well. This wasn’t the first time that one of Kuro’s thoughtless comments had gotten him in trouble with Noname, and it wasn’t the first time his natural airheaded-ness had saved him either. I just let things play out at this point.

“Oh, that reminds me, Suimei…” Noname suddenly began. She looked me over while holding a teacup in hand. “Have you been sleeping okay as of late?”

Truthfully, I hadn’t. Being startled awake by dreams of the past had become a normal occurrence for me recently. But how did Noname know that from all the way in her room? “…What makes you think that?”

“I can hear you moaning and groaning from across the compound. Would you like me to make you some medicine?”

“Huh?”

“Medicine. For your sleep. I can prepare you some with more mild effects. You could even start drinking it today.”

My lack of sleep certainly did leave me exhausted. But I was fine with that. I preferred not to risk falling into a deep sleep while in the spirit realm. This was a world rampant with spirits who ate humans, and I had no intent to let my guard down.

I answered, “No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, all right…” She smiled sadly.

That was when somebody entered the courtyard through the apothecary. “Oh, there you two are! Evening!”

She had a bob cut dyed brown, perfectly round chestnut-colored eyes, a roundish nose, and wore a plaid dress with the warm colors of autumn. She was Muramoto Kaori, the girl who lived at the bookstore, and a human like me.

Kaori met my eyes and smiled, waving gleefully at me.

Ugh.

Kuro hopped onto my knees. “Kaori-chan! What’re you here for?” he asked.

“Kuro! Aw, you’re so cute. I’m here to get some medicine from Noname.”

“Oooh. Well, you’re free to join us. The tea tastes great!”

“Will do!” Kaori happily took the seat next to me and began talking about whatever with Noname.

I quietly let out a sigh of relief and looked away from her. That was when Kuro whispered, “Are you all right? Are you nervous because Kaori’s here?”

“…As if.”

“Oh?” Still on my lap, Kuro tilted his head to the side and looked up at me with his cute puppy dog eyes.

I…didn’t dislike Kaori. If anything, I felt indebted to her and wanted to repay her one day. But I just couldn’t help but flounder before her smile. It made my chest feel tight—not in a painful way, but tight nonetheless. Maybe I felt jealous of how she could so easily express the emotions I couldn’t.

“Don’t worry, Suimei! I’ll do all the talking; you can just nod your head and listen!”

Who does this dog think he is? I sighed, reached for his neck, and gently stroked it. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Oooh?! Oooh…” Kuro collapsed flat on my knees, squirming with joy as I scratched the perfect spot.

You’re a hundred years too early to be teasing me, Kuro, I thought to myself when, suddenly, I felt someone’s gaze and looked up.

“You two always get along well. You’re practically joined at the hip.” It was Kaori, smiling broadly at us.

Feeling bashful, I frowned. “…This is normal. We’re partners.”

“Right, right.”

Something about the way she watched us so joyously, it irritated me.

It appeared she could tell, as she giggled and said, “Sorry, am I interrupting your moment with Kuro?”

“Let’s put that aside,” I said, trying to change the topic. “You said you came for medicine? Are you feeling sick?”

She shook her head. “I’m here to pick up some butterfly repellent. I’ll be making a delivery tomorrow and need to drink it or I’ll be swarmed by the swarms of glimmerflies over there.”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense.” I looked over at the birdcage hanging in the passageway. A number of ghostly butterflies known as glimmerflies were caged within it. Glimmerflies were used in place of lights in this world of perpetual night. They emitted no heat yet glowed brighter than fire. They burned out and faded over time, however, so butterfly hunters had to constantly hunt more to replenish them.

Glimmerflies did more than just glow, though. They were also drawn to humans. Kaori and I were human, and as such, we were swarmed by glimmerflies whenever we went outside. The apothecary lit special butterfly repellent incense made by Noname, but if we went someplace without the incense, the glimmerflies gathered around and illuminated the place so brightly that you might think you were in the human world.

Whether one liked it or not, the glimmerflies made humans stand out like a sore thumb. Perhaps that was why so few humans lived in the spirit realm. You had to be born under a lucky star to manage to survive all the human-eating spirits, what with the glimmerflies constantly pointing you out like a spotlight. Conversely, you could say it would have been easy to live here if it weren’t for the glimmerflies.

“I wonder why glimmerflies are drawn to humans anyway…” I mused.

“Who knows. Kinda weird, huh? Maybe we smell different?” Kaori sniffed her arm.

Perhaps the glimmerflies were attracted to a human-specific pheromone. This might be worth looking into.

That was when Noname suddenly said, “Oh, Suimei! You should go with Kaori!”

I glared daggers her way. Every now and then, Noname made these outrageous, whimsical suggestions. Just the other day, in fact, she had suggested I go to Okinawa—well, forced me to go, I should say.

“Can’t,” I said. “Tomorrow’s a workday.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the shop. We’ve hardly had any customers as of late; I can manage on my lonesome. You should go. There’s much for you to learn there.” There was an indecipherable glimmer behind her clear amber gaze.

I frowned, unnerved by Noname’s behavior. This didn’t seem to be one of her whimsical suggestions after all. My intuition as a former exorcist told me something was up. “…What do you mean by ‘much to learn’?” I asked.

“I meant just that. Nothing more.”

Noname was shrouded in mystery. She might have raised Kaori like a mother, but a spirit was a spirit. I couldn’t trust her as easily as Kaori could, no matter how much goodwill she had shown me.

“You really should go, Suimei,” she said. I couldn’t help but feel there was something fishy about her smile.

Just what could she be planning?

Just as my mind began to race, a blithe voice rang out. “Wait, Suimei’s coming? That’s great!”

It was Kaori. I clicked my tongue, peeved by her attitude. How could she be so carefree when there was clearly something lying in wait for us? …I have to protect her.

I sighed and confirmed that I would be joining Kaori. Noname smiled and nodded. A little sadly, she said, “…That’s good. You two enjoy yourselves now.”

 

***

 

The next morning, Kuro and I met up with Kaori and the black cat at the edge of town. The black cat had already transformed to the size of a tiger and was carrying a cloth bundle of books—what I assumed to be our delivery—on her back.

“Morning, Suimei. Did you drink the butterfly-repellent tonic?” Kaori asked.

“Yeah. Are we going through a hell again?”

“Nope. Our destination’s not that far this time.”

“I see.” I gave her a slight nod and felt for the pouch at my waist. It contained purifying salt, sacred sake, and talismans. If it came down to it, I was prepared to use these to fight alongside Kuro. That being said, I hadn’t prepared these things specifically for today. I actually kept this pouch on me whenever I went outside. It would have been crazy to walk around unarmed with all these spirits.

“I may not be an exorcist anymore…but I haven’t lost my edge,” I muttered.

“Hm? Did you say something, Suimei?”

“No, nothing.” I shook my head. Kaori trusted spirits. She’d have been disappointed to know I had these things on me, and I had no particular need to tell her. She’d grown up in the spirit realm, while I’d made a living by hunting spirits in the human world. As sad as it was to say, we saw spirits differently.

The black cat slowly waltzed over to Kuro, shot him a dangerous look, and said, “I’ll allow you to come along, mutt, but…you better not get in the way of our work.”

“Are you looking down on me?! Do you think you’re hot stuff now just ’cause you’re a little bigger, huh?!” Kuro didn’t cower in the face of the much larger black cat.

She stared at him with her mismatched sky-blue and gold eyes before letting out an exasperated sigh. “…You sure talk big for someone with their tail between their legs.”

Kuro let out a sharp whine and hid behind me, embarrassed to be outed. He peered back at the black cat from between my legs.

Those two really had the worst chemistry… No, maybe that wasn’t quite it.

“Heh heh. That’s right, mutt.”

Maybe it would have been more apt to say that Kuro had become the black cat’s toy?

I warned the black cat not to tease Kuro too much and asked that we be on our way.

 

Our destination really wasn’t that far from town at all. In just thirty minutes, we had come to a dense forest, and in no time, Kaori led us to a large lake within it.

“Look at that! It’s beautiful, right, Suimei?” she boastfully declared upon arrival.

No winds were present that day, letting the surface of the lake stand still from end to end. Like a polished mirror, it reflected the reddish autumn sky of the spirit realm, ever so slightly changing color as the sky did. In the center of the lake was a small island, and on that island was some sort of building. For some strange reason, the island appeared brighter than its surroundings. Leading to it was a red bridge, connecting shore to shore.

The lake stretched as far as I could see, almost like an ocean. Maybe it was the darkness, but the water seemed to seamlessly bleed into the sky on the horizon. The sky and the lake unified into a pool of innumerable stars. It was as if the starry sky enclosed us from all directions.

Kaori was right; it was beautiful. But that was no reason to let my guard down.

It looked safe at first glance, but I could only think that we would be sitting ducks if assaulted from the lake or the air while traversing the bridge. “Be careful,” I warned her.

“I’m not gonna fall off the bridge! Don’t treat me like a child!” she complained in return.

That’s not what I mean. That was what I wanted to say, but I realized it wouldn’t be worth the effort to explain and instead sighed. Kaori began walking across the bridge without a care in the world, and I followed closely behind, monitoring our surroundings carefully.

The bridge looked ancient, but it was sturdy. Our footsteps reverberated on it as if it were a springy taiko drum.

Out of breath, Kaori yelled at the black cat, now walking quite a ways ahead of us. “Slow down, Nyaa-san! We can’t keep up!”

“No way. Do you know how heavy these things are?” The black cat sounded eager to unload the package on her back and continued farther along.

“Jeez… She always just does what she likes.” Kaori quickly gave up, accustomed to the black cat’s behavior. She sighed deeply, then continued crossing at her own leisurely pace.

That was when Kuro, walking in front, let out a surprised murmur. “Whoa… What is this?” he said as he looked down into the lake from over the bridge.

Curious, I looked down as well. The lake should have been considerably deep, yet somehow, the water was clear enough to see all the way into its depths. Aquatic creatures swayed in the water and brilliant red fish with long tails, perhaps goldfish, swam in schools between them.

“No…” I muttered in disbelief.

Beyond the schools of fish was an impossible sight: An enormous single-story building. It was a bit peculiar in that it lacked a roof, exposing everything inside, and it looked like a decoration one would find in an aquarium.

But this was clearly no decoration, for a number of living spaces filled the enormous building. They were of simple design, tatami-matted and housing only bedding, but they were each filled by white-robed humans. The majority laid down asleep, unmoving. They looked sickly pale, many of them thin. The ones who were awake curled up and hugged their knees, blankly staring off at nothing in particular.

On one side of each room was something I had seldom seen before—a wooden lattice grid, reminiscent of zashiki cells, an Edo-era prison used to confine criminals and the mad.

I felt goosebumps cover my body and went stiff with fear, like I had just seen something I wasn’t meant to have seen. I rubbed my eyes to make sure there wasn’t anything wrong with them.

There’s no way humans would be here. Am I dreaming?

A glimmerfly fluttered into view, reminding me that this was no dream. Pulled back into reality, I became acutely aware of the disgust rising within me.

What did I just see? What are humans doing here of all places?

Everything clicked into place at once. It was so obvious. This world only appeared like mine on the bare surface. In reality, it was a plane ruled by terrible, monstrous beings known as spirits—and who knew how many spirits loved nothing more than to eat humans?

“Kaori.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“What…what is this?”

“Huh?”

Sweat glided down my back. Kaori seemed unaware of the reality beneath her feet.

“Can you look at this and still call it beautiful?” Trembling, I pointed down at what lay beneath the lake.

She laughed. “Uh, yeah? What’s not beautiful about an underwater building? Pretty much the only place you’d find one too.”

I recoiled a few steps. Kuro swiftly ran up to me and, with his head lowered, growled at Kaori.

What is going on? What is wrong with her?! Fearful, I reached for my pouch.

Kaori was alien to me. Having been raised in the spirit realm, her sensibilities confounded me often. That wasn’t particularly unusual. Culture shock was common, even between those of the same country. This world belonged to the spirits, so there was likely much I didn’t understand.

But humans being raised like cattle? That was something I could never accept!

“Suimei? Kuro?”

Just what the hell is Kaori? I thought she was a human like me, but she’s not. She’s, she’s—a monster.

The moment that word crossed my mind, I swallowed hard. I was appalled that I could think such a thing about her.

About Kaori.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Confused, she reached out for me. I reflexively backed away, causing her to flinch.

“Ah…” My chest felt tight. I had been the one to hurt her, so why did my heart ache so much?

I then realized my grave error. I had rejected her merely because I couldn’t understand her. How was I any better than all those people who had looked at me with fear and disgust in their eyes?

“My, my,” a voice said with some exasperation. From behind Kaori, I saw a person walk along the bridge toward us, coming from the direction of the small island.

I immediately pulled talismans out of my pouch and hid them out of view, clutched in my palm. Kaori turned around and…greeted the person by name.

“Yao Bikuni…”

“Hello, Kaori. I see quite the something’s going on between you two…”

The person, a woman, had a Buddhist nun hood on and wore a black and purple rakusu—a monastic waistcoat—that hung from her neck. She held an elaborate smoking pipe in her right hand and a long line of prayer beads coiled around her wrist. She looked to be a nun, as the name Yao Bikuni—literally “the eight-hundred-year-old nun”—suggested, but she seemed far too young and beautiful to live up to the number.

“I take it that it’s your first time coming here, young man?” she said. “Then it’s no wonder you’re so alarmed. Only those experiencing this place for the first time perceive its uncanny nature. Ah, a terrifying thing it is, to unknowingly grow so accustomed to something that you become blind to its strangeness. But at the same time, is it not a blessing as gentle as a mother’s love? If experiencing new things invokes such discomfort, perhaps it’d be best to never have to experience anything new at all, no?”

The Buddhist nun snickered softly. She looked to be at the peak of her youth but spoke with the profundity of someone much older. She had a subdued air that didn’t match her apparent age and gave off a sense of cunning that one could only hope to obtain through experience.

She put her smoking pipe to her lips, puffed, and blew out white smoke. “Young man, I have no responsibility to correct your wild misunderstandings. But I will this time, out of consideration for Kaori. This place is not what you imagine it to be. This place is where scarred souls come to rest. No living humans reside here…much less any meant for consumption.”

Saying no more, she turned toward the small island. She looked back over her shoulder; her grin warped her beautiful face. “But that isn’t to say you should let your guard down while you’re here. Enjoy your stay, young man.”

 

We were greeted by yet more fresh sights after crossing the bridge. Just past a torii gate that must have been constructed from a massive tree, there stood countless wooden grave tablets unceremoniously stuck into the ground all over the all-too-small island, like candles on a birthday cake.

In the center of the island was a temple onto which annexes had been haphazardly added. It was an ugly thing, towering three stories high. The main doors were closed, concealing whatever Buddha idols might be enshrined inside. I had to ask: Would a twisted place like this even contain anything to worship? If it did, the deities had to be equally warped.

Regardless, the most striking thing about the island was the number of butterflies. The roof of the temple, the great willows beside it, the ground, the grave tablets—glimmerflies rested atop each and every place imaginable. I finally understood why the butterfly-repellent tonic was so necessary. Any human who wandered in here would be swarmed, and quite possibly die of asphyxiation.

The caretaker of this utterly abnormal land was a former human, Yao Bikuni. Yao Bikuni had once been a normal village girl until one day, as a child, she ate the mermaid flesh her father had brought home, thus ceasing to be human and becoming immortal. She looked young, but her true age was over eight hundred. Walking alongside such a nun, rich with history, we stepped foot on land.

The moment we left the bridge, I apologized. “Kaori, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault for not explaining more. I was so used to this place that I didn’t stop and think how it might seem to someone else.” She looked relieved and put a hand to her chest. “Still, I’m surprised. I didn’t expect you to look at me like I was a total stranger.”

“I’m really, really sorry.”

“No, no, no, I’m not blaming you or anything,” she said, waving her hands. “Everybody makes mistakes, don’t worry about it! Now where did Nyaa-san go…?” She scanned the area.

I fought down the apology rushing to my lips and studied Kaori’s figure from behind. I felt pathetic. The moment I’d thought she held values that differed from my own, I had rejected her. It took everything I had to not try to make excuses for myself.

I had done unto Kaori the very thing I hated the most.

She was putting on a brave front now, but I knew I had hurt her. I bit my lip and swore I would never make such a mistake again.

“Hey, can you tell me more about this place?” I asked. I needed to understand her better. That way I would never again subject her to my own baseless fears.

Kaori looked stunned for a moment, but then she broke out into a pure, genuine smile.

My chest tightened painfully, as though someone had gripped my heart. My pulse began to race. Just what was this feeling? How could Kaori’s smile have such an effect on me?

She tilted her head to the side and, in a slightly playful tone, said, “All right, why don’t I give Mr. New to the Spirit Realm here a crash course? Souls exist in a cycle. After death, a new life awaits each one.”

Kaori went on to explain to me what Yao Bikuni had once explained to her. She talked about the endless cycle of rebirth, samsara, a belief that souls are reborn after death. There were similar beliefs across many religions, but the one Kaori spoke of was the one taught in Buddhism.

“Humans go to one of six realms after death: The heavenly realm, the human realm, the asura realm, the animal realm, the realm of hungry ghosts, and the realm we call hell. You’re not always reborn as a human, but you will be reborn as something living. Here, we have souls that should be ready for reincarnation—however, they lack the strength they need to endure it.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

Yao Bikuni cut in, continuing where Kaori left off. “Their hearts became too worn in life. Goodness, just what has come of the human world? With each passing day, more and more souls refuse to be reborn, instead wishing to fade away to nothingness. Forcing such souls to experience rebirth would lead to a twisted new life, so instead we let them rest here. I suppose it’s not too dissimilar from a hospital in the human world.”

Yao Bikuni shrugged, then brought her smoking pipe to her lips and smiled. “It is my job to help them recover. Say, did you know there’s nothing that can bind a soul? If those souls so wanted to leave, they could slip right through anything. That zashiki prison is just for show. They can depart whenever they feel like it; there’s not even a ceiling.”

I thought back to the listless, motionless humans I’d seen, free to leave at any moment. The only prison holding them was, in truth, their own hearts.

“We’ve come here to help those souls,” said a familiar voice.

The black cat had appeared out of nowhere. She must have been nodding off on the roof of the temple, as she yawned hugely before approaching Kaori and dipping low—essentially demanding to have the package on her back unloaded.

Kaori grinned wryly at the black cat’s attitude and began untying the cloth bundle. From inside appeared magazines, manga, comic books, novels…and even picture books.

“You’re giving them books…?” I murmured. That was indeed how it seemed, but the selection ranged from utterly ancient to very recent material. Many of the older books were brown with age. I saw some novels dating from before the pre-war era, and even some incredibly ancient writings from the Edo period—perhaps older. Even for a bookworm, simply understanding some of these texts would be a struggle.

Taking a book in hand and cocking her head, Yao Bikuni grinned. “Old things do wonders for the heart, whether they be games, movies, music, or whatever. Such things are a necessity for souls, especially damaged ones. Without these, they’d just fade away.”

“Wow! Miss Yao, uh… Miss Yao Bikini, you’re saving souls? That’s amazing!”

“Yao Bikuni, Kuro,” I quietly corrected.

Yao Bikuni snickered softly, then gave us a somehow unnerving smile. “There’s nothing amazing about it at all, dear. For every soul I save, there are many more I cannot.”

“Oh, I see. That must be tough, seeing how saving souls is your job and all,” Kuro said.

“I think nothing of it at all. It is impossible to save them all in the first place. Besides, I am not so kind.” She squinted thoughtfully and looked far off into the distance. “No matter how much I try, there’s no helping those that couldn’t find meaning in their lives. Empty souls that arrive here are fated to fade.”

I found myself a bit speechless at that.

To put it plainly, Yao Bikuni was dangling a spider’s thread in hopes some would grasp it. Only those who could connect with something from their life would reach for this thread. Point being, salvation was something a person had to strive for themselves.

Although, in Akutagawa Ryunosuke’s short story, The Spider’s Thread, the one who dangled that thread was the Buddha Shakyamuni himself…

“This world is full of suffering. That’s why people hug their knees and cower. People wish for nothing more than to hide in their shells and live the same lives day in, day out, never having to experience anything new. That is the easiest way to live.” Yao Bikuni spoke as though salvation was impossible for such souls and exhaled another puff of white smoke. Then, as though declaring the topic over, she began to order about Kaori. “Would you bring these books inside the temple? Make that big cat lug them over. I’ll pay after inspecting the goods, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Kaori replied with vigor.

Yao Bikuni then looked Kaori up and down with a scrutinizing air. “And…Kaori. About those clothes…”

“Yes?”

“How can you stand to bare your legs like that? Goodness… Don’t blame me if you come to regret your decisions when you wish to have children in the future. What happened to you? You hardly even used to wear skirts… Have you finally become aware of the opposite gender?”

“W-wait. Yao Bikuni, wait!” Kaori blushed and held down the hem of her dress.

But wait Yao Bikuni did not. She frowned and took another puff of her pipe, blowing white smoke out her nose, before plowing onward without a break. “Rather than dressing up for the man you like, you should be taking care of yourself so you can safely bear his children. The cold is a woman’s greatest enemy, dear. Just think of the damage it’ll do to your blood circulation—and how that’ll hurt your future children. Oh, I know, let me give you one of my long underpants so your legs don’t get cold.”

“N-no, anything but that! I’ll just carry over the books now!” Kaori yelled for the black cat and then fled in search of her.

“My, she ran away. Goodness me. Youths these days never listen to what their elders have to say,” Yao Bikuni grumbled. It appeared she was the meddlesome sort, the kind that meant well but whom the “youths” just couldn’t stand.

Without warning, she turned to me. I put myself on guard, wary of what she might say. She stared at me for a short while, before finally saying, “…Right. I’d forgotten. There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that was bound to an Inugami… The exorcist, no?”

I immediately distanced myself from her. Without delay, Kuro braced himself for a fight as well, and I pulled out my talismans. “I was,” I said. “But now I work at an apothecary. I don’t recall doing anything to earn the ire of a nun’s spirit… What business do you have with me?”

“Oh, so you’re at Noname’s place, then. Well, that’s far better than being an exorcist, isn’t it?” Yao Bikuni looked at me as if I were a rare animal and lazily scratched the edge of her hood. “I’ve heard lots about you. You’ve lived a rough life, haven’t you?”

“You know Noname? What’s she told you?”

“We’re only familiar because of my work. But Noname wasn’t the one to tell me about you. Do you really think your employer the type to blab about an employee?”

I thought about it. As an apothecary, Noname was in a position that allowed her to learn not just my information but that of many people. But it was for that very reason that she was so tight-lipped. The same could be said for Kaori and the rest… So who had told this shrewd nun about me?

Yao Bikuni continued to stare at me, wearing an indecipherable smile. I felt sweat build in my palm and blot my talismans as my tension rose.

Then, without warning, Yao Bikuni turned away and waved a hand in the air. “Oh, never mind. And you shouldn’t threaten a weak old nun with those things, you know.”

Saying nothing further, she left.

 

What was that just now?

I finally untensed my body and stowed away my talismans. Kuro appeared equally as confused as me and watched Yao Bikuni walk away. That was when he noticed something else and, with a tilt of his head, said, “Huh? Hey, Suimei, isn’t that Shinonome over there?”

“What?” Surprised, I followed Kuro’s gaze. Sure enough, the owner of the bookstore was there. Initially, I thought he might have come for Kaori, but he was headed in the exact opposite direction from her.

I called out to him and began walking forward, but though I only looked away for a brief second, I soon completely lost sight of him. I scanned the area in search of Shinonome, at which point I noticed a gaudily dressed man standing close by.

“Oho… You’re that Inugami,” he said to Kuro. “What a coincidence it is to come across you here… No, coincidence isn’t quite the right word; I should call this destiny. Yes, the more dramatic the word, the better it enriches the story.” The strange man pressed his round sunglasses up with a finger and grinned at Kuro and me. Then he approached us without hesitation, his gaudy haori fluttering as he walked.

I braced myself, on guard against the strange man.

That was when Kuro suddenly yelled, “Get back, Suimei!” He moved between me and the man, baring his fangs and growling.

Sensing something wrong, I renewed my focus. “Kuro? Who is that man?”

The man’s fierce eyes narrowed with glee. “Oh, I’m hurt. And here I thought you’d be in tears, thanking me. But I suppose reality isn’t as simple as stories.” He stifled some laughter, his eyes still homed in on us behind his round lenses.

Kuro glanced back at me and tensely said, “Do you remember what I had to do to unbind myself from the Shirai household?”

“Of course,” I answered.

Kuro was an Inugami that possessed the Shirai bloodline—my bloodline. For the longest of times, he had wanted to free me from the burden placed on me by the rest of my family, but he hadn’t known how. That was, until a certain person appeared before him one day.

If you wish to free that poor boy of his bindings, you must eat the bones of one of his bloodline, he had said.

And so, on the day I became seventeen, Kuro dug up my mother’s grave and ate her bones—ending the cursed connection between Kuro and the Shirai household…and setting me free.

“You don’t mean…” I swallowed.

Kuro nodded and glared back at the man. “That’s the man who told me what to do.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stranger, addressing me as ‘man’ like that. I’ve told you my name, haven’t I? Call me Tamaki.” The man—Tamaki grinned vulgarly. “How do you like your freedom, young man? Do you feel better not having to suppress your emotions anymore? Are you not ecstatic to be rid of the ancient ways? Outdated beliefs are nothing but fetters that bind us down, you see. I’m sure the story you’re now spinning is much more interesting than the old one.” With some excitement, Tamaki spread his hands up in the air, and his eyes crinkled with spellbound delight.

A conflicted feeling stirred in me. The fact that I was able to live at all freely was thanks to this man. In a sense, I owed him a debt. But something about that was hard to accept. There was something out of place, something that told me it couldn’t be that simple. Just listening to his words made my head throb like an alarm was going off inside my head. My instincts were telling me: Stay away from this man. Do not trust this man.

“I suppose…I should thank you, then. Thank you,” I ventured.

“Ha ha. Not at all. In fact…I should be the one thanking you.” Tamaki stroked his chin in good humor. Suddenly, he turned dead serious and offered me a handshake. “Thanks to you, yet another of the ancient ways have faded. I couldn’t be happier. What better entertainment is there than this? I feel as though I’ve just read the conclusion to a masterpiece of a book!”

“I…I see.” I caught a glimpse of some need that I couldn’t comprehend through his round sunglasses and shuddered. I had only just sworn to never again let myself be swayed by a lack of understanding for their thoughts and feelings, but in this moment, I only knew that I never wanted anything to do with this man.

As I hesitated over whether to shake his hand, Kuro sharply growled. “So you were a spirit then. It’s been more than ten years since we met, yet you haven’t changed one bit. Did you tell me those things to destroy the Shirai household?! Was it all to remove more exorcists from this world?!”

Kuro glared at Tamaki with deep hatred in his eyes. Tamaki looked back at him curiously, lowered his outstretched hand, and shrugged. He looked down slightly and, in a rumble deeper than his already deep voice, said, “Now that’s a baseless accusation. Certainly, it is up for debate whether I am still a human…but I have no interest at all in exorcists and their ilk. I simply love to destroy what is old. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s best you not read too deeply into things, or else the joy of stories might escape you.”

Tamaki then knit his brows and looked toward me. “Young man, may I ask you one thing? Why, when you’ve finally been freed from your ancient bindings, are you still with this Inugami? Unless—is it haunting you? Should I teach you a way to erase it?”

“Huh…?” I asked, flummoxed.

“Oh, it’s no skin off my back. I know plenty of methods for erasing man-made spirits like this one. Please, allow me. Let me help you fully break free from your past. That way, you can make an even more wonderful story.” Tamaki gave me a smile as pure as snow and put a hand over his chest. “Rid yourself of that dog. That’s what’s—”

“No!” I interrupted, shielding Kuro behind my body and glaring at Tamaki. “I chose to stay with Kuro myself. He’s my friend.”

Tamaki raised a surprised eyebrow and sized me up. “Oho… Is that all?”

“Wh-what? Are you not finished? Leave us alone,” I demanded.

“Hmm… Heh. Ha ha ha! Oh, of course! Of course, of course!” Tamaki howled with laughter. His clouded right eye looked over at me—and in an instant, he went stony, like his excitement had spontaneously dried up. “Allow me to retract my earlier statement. From the rings under your eyes and the lukewarm anger you showed when I told you to rid yourself of your friend—it doesn’t appear that you’ve been freed from your bindings, not at all.”

“What…?”

“You should be seething with all of hell’s fury after I tried to rile you up with that ‘erasing your friend’ nonsense. Your interpretation… No, the choice you made, I should say, was wrong.” Tamaki pushed his sunglasses up with a finger and his lips formed a cruel, twisted smile. “You can’t express your emotions well in the least, and you’re no longer an exorcist. What value do you have? Is your story even progressing as it should?”

“I-I…”

He was right. I should have been angry. I should have been furious that he’d even suggested erasing my friend. So why…why did I feel nothing inside me? Where was my anger? Where were the emotions that made one human?

Was I really human…?

“That’s enough, Tamaki!” somebody cut in.

Tamaki looked to see who it was and shrugged in defeat. It was Yao Bikuni, her beautiful face surging with anger and glaring straight at him.

Tamaki let out a deep sigh and turned on his heel. “I suppose I stuck my nose too far where it didn’t belong… Oh, young man, if you ever truly find yourself no longer needing that Inugami, come find me. As a story-seller, I’ll teach you what you want to know. Kindness is one of my selling points, you see.”

He left, leaving nothing but those unsettling words behind. I watched him go, still confused. My heart felt nothing. My body was rooted to the spot.

“You said you were Suimei, from the apothecary, right? Goodness, you’re as white as a sheet.” Yao Bikuni was visibly irritated as she scratched her face along the edge of her hood. With some reluctance, she said, “Oh, what to do… You look so unsettling like that, as pale as a doll. Fine. I have a job for you. Look after a soul for me.”

Unable to think a thing, I slowly met her gaze.

“You’re just the man for the job as you are now. Will you accept it?”

Her beautiful face stared back at me with displeasure—her eyes full of contempt.

 

***

 

Drip. Drip. The sound of water slowly trickling could be heard somewhere near. I walked down the hallway, the floor creaking under my bare feet, and took a casual glance out the window. A large, red fish swam close, nearly touching the windowpane. The fish—I didn’t know its name—glared at me with its round eyes before paddling its tail and quickly swimming past. I turned forward again and let my eyes drop down to the glimmerfly flapping in its paper lantern.

I was in the submerged building at the bottom of the lake. As strange as it was, the building was filled with air, so I had no fear of drowning. Zashiki cells lined the sides of the hallway, from which came countless human groans, and screams, and sobs. I felt eyes watching me from here and there as I silently made my way along.

Plip. Every now and then, a bubble formed and rose to the surface of the lake. Every time I heard it, I imagined what would happen if the air suddenly disappeared, and discomfort tugged at me.

“Good morning.” Before long, I reached a lacquered, vermilion lattice grid door. A single nun stood before it. She wore a veil typically used in Shinto rituals that hid her face, as all the nuns who looked after those living in these zashiki cells did. I wondered if such a thing had any meaning.

The nun opened the lattice grid door and said the usual. “Please refrain from using light beyond this point, and do not grow closer than necessary with those imprisoned here. Of course, you are expressly forbidden from giving your own name, as well as from asking for others’ names.”

“I know.”

“Take care to not forget…”

I handed the paper lantern to the nun and set foot inside. Beyond this point was a prison of stone, carved out from the island’s base. Not a single ray of sunlight penetrated its darkness, but tight bundles of moss glowed on the ceiling, making it possible to see once one’s eyes adjusted. Along both sides of the cold, stone passageway were more wooden lattice grid walls. Most of the prisons beyond those walls lay silent and empty, as the only souls who stayed here were those with whom the nuns regularly met.

I walked for a few minutes before finally reaching the cell I was looking for. The light of the ceiling moss didn’t reach the back of the cell. I couldn’t make out anything within it, as though it had been painted from top to bottom with black ink.

Once I approached, a woman’s voice spoke to me. “…Hello, hello. You came again, I see.” Her pale hand extended out from the prison, and she beckoned me to hurry. Her arm was so thin and white, it looked as though no blood flowed through the veins visible along the surface of her skin. Her long, willowy fingers seemed feminine, as did the small palm they extended from.

I gave the medicine and book I was carrying to the hand, then told her the book’s title. The hand slunk back into the darkness of the cell.

“Oh… How nostalgic,” she giggled. Just when I thought she would begin turning the book’s pages, she began reciting it from memory instead. Her soft voice echoed throughout the stone prison. I listened and slowly closed my eyes. The time I spent with her always felt peaceful, even if I had only three days for reference.

The request Yao Bikuni had given me was to help a particular soul. The nun prepared ten picture books, ones meant less for children and more for mothers to read to infants, for me to give to the soul, one by one, over the course of ten days. She also requested that I bring some medicine mixed at the apothecary.

I felt that the reward Yao Bikuni had offered was way too much for the level of work. Of course, I had made sure to tell Noname about this arrangement. Ten days was by no means a short time span, so I figured she would be a little put off by the idea. Surprisingly, however, she readily agreed to it.

“Go ahead and take those ten days off. Now that you’ve accepted it, you better see this request through in its entirety.”

All I had to do was deliver books and medicine. Did it get any easier than that? I decided to use these ten days to rest from all the sleepless nights I had been having.

“I used to have a kid, you know,” the woman said. “Before he was born, I worried myself sick over whether or not I could be a parent. But the moment he was born and I saw my cute little monkey, I laughed. I just understood it instinctually. This was my child.”

“…I see.”

She told me about her child whenever I gave her a book, speaking with a gentle warmth that I couldn’t understand.

“Of course, child-rearing was difficult. I had to wake up every two hours to breastfeed. I can’t count how many times I wished I could just go back to sleep… But every time I held his soft body in my arms and smelled the milky scent of him suckling, those feelings went away, and I found my purpose again. Can you relate?”

“Not really, no,” I answered. “I can’t say I’ve ever been near a baby.”

“Oh dear! You’re missing out, then. If you ever spot a small child, try and smell them next time.”

“I think that’d get me on some sort of list.”

“I suppose you’re right!” She laughed like a lovely bell. “I used to read this book here right outside the house—so we could listen to the bugs singing. Inside the book was a red circle, a white circle, a round balloon, and a wormy apple. I remember watching my baby’s tiny little hands reach out and touch the pictures, full of wonder. To an adult like me, they were just colored circles… But my baby must have seen them differently.”

Time seemed to pass slowly when I was with her. Occasionally, I would hear a distant plip as a bubble of air floated up to the lake surface, but other than that, it was just her voice in this dark, stony prison.

Did my mother love me like this woman loved her child? Every so often, as I listened, the thought crossed my mind, and misery would creep into me. Mother was gone. I would never see her again. But whenever I thought back to her warmth, I grew distressed—I wanted to cry from the longing. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to hold someone in my arms.

Just what was this emotion called? This ticklish, oppressive, yet impossible-to-live-without emotion. I couldn’t have guessed that such a thing existed within me.

With a slight bounce to her voice, the woman said, “Hey. I can’t see you, but you’re smiling right now, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You feel like you just got a tad bit softer.”

“Is that so.”

I was glad I had taken this job. This total darkness was just what I’d needed to reflect on myself. I needed time to confirm that I could feel anything at all after failing to feel anger back then.

Besides, those strings that always tried to control me couldn’t reach me in this dark, deep place. Here, I could be free.

I continued to talk to the unnamed woman in the darkness, desperately trying to prove to myself that I was a human being with emotions.

 

After parting with the woman, I climbed a ladder connecting the bottom of the lake to the temple above. I pushed open a heavy metal door, arrived outside, and filled my lungs with fresh air as I stared at the sky above.

The sky of the spirit realm was dark, as it always was. A swarm of glimmerflies happily fluttered across it, fully enjoying their freedom.

“Suimei!”

“Kaori…”

Out of nowhere, Kaori appeared and ran up to me. She suggested we walk home together. “I just swung by to deliver some more books. Yao Bikuni told me you would be coming up soon.”

“I see.”

“Is the job going well?”

“I guess. I just deliver things.”

“Ah.” Kaori smiled, looking genuinely happy for me. We talked about trifling things as we crossed the bridge connecting the island to shore. The time I spent with Kaori was peaceful, just like the time I spent with that woman.

“Hey, Kaori… Do you remember your own mother?” I asked.

She looked surprised for a moment, then frowned a bit sadly. “Nope. I wandered into the spirit realm before I was really aware of my surroundings.”

“I see.”

Kaori stopped and looked at me. “Why that question all of a sudden?”

I hesitated for a moment, but I was the one who’d brought the topic up in the first place, so I figured I should say it. “The person I’m bringing the medicine and books to talks about her child a lot. Like…really happily.”

“Oh?”

“Listening to her reminds me of my late mother. Whenever that happens, this area here,” I pointed to my chest, “begins to ache and feel warm… It’s weird. I just can’t understand what emotion this is that I’m feeling.”

Kaori blinked a few times, then suddenly erupted into laughter while hugging her sides. She wiped the tears away from the corners of her eyes and pompously placed her hands on her hips. “That’s love, I tell ya. Love!”

“Love…?”

“Yup. It’s a very, very important emotion that lets you treasure someone.” Kaori grinned. “Suimei, you loved your mother very much.”

“You think so?” I put my hand to my chest. Even now, when I thought of my mother, I felt something warm welling up inside. I loved my mother? Then, did my mother love me back? I cocked my head. “I don’t think I can understand this yet…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Most people have a hard time telling if they’re loved by the people they’ve been with for a long time. Being loved feels so natural, we forget we are at all. Nobody wants it to be that way, but it is, and it leads to all kinds of fights and misunderstandings. Kinda weird, isn’t it?”

I see. So love is a complicated thing.

Kaori turned away and gazed out at the lake. “That’s why you have to clearly tell those important to you that you love them. As long as both sides keep reminding one another, neither will forget they love each other. Putting our thoughts into words is important. Feelings are invisible to the eye, after all.”

She stretched her arms high and said, “Mmm…aah! I haven’t said it lately to Shinonome-san myself. ‘Thank you, Father! I want to eat better, so go earn some more money!’ and whatnot.” She smiled playfully before breaking into a cackle.

I shrugged. “Isn’t that a little different?”

“You think so?” Kaori asked before continuing to happily waltz along the bridge.

Was love the kind of emotion that made one’s chest warm and achy? I supposed humans—no, hearts were more complex than I knew.

“Can I ask you something, Kaori?” Something that still bothered me abruptly surfaced in my mind.

“Whoa. What’s up now?”

I grabbed her hand. It was warmer than mine and fit snugly in my grip. It was so soft, I found myself doubting that we could be the same human species. I looked into her eyes. She was three years older than me and, to my slight displeasure, just a bit taller. With great deliberation, I ventured a thought. “When I’m with you, my chest feels weird. Is this…love too?”

“Wh-what?!”

“I’m not sure, but if we go by what you said earlier, that’s what it is.”

Kaori blushed as red as a tomato and began scanning the area around her. Her hand, held in my own, turned clammy. When I saw this, I became sure that my suspicions were correct.

I…love—

But before my mind could finish the thought, Kaori brushed away my hands and began to speak hysterically. “W-wait, I didn’t explain well enough! Uh, th-those symptoms could point to a bunch of different things! You’re probably, um…feeling admiration toward an elder you respect! Yes, that’s it!”

“You? An elder I respect?”

“Yeah! That’s gotta be it! Or maybe it’s a heart or lung problem! Worth visiting a doctor for!” Step by step, Kaori widened the distance between us. Suddenly, she raised a hand in an over-exaggerated manner and said, “W-well, Miss Kaori’s special consultation ends here! Adios!”

She turned on her heel and bolted.

I watched her go and thought to myself, I see. So this feeling in my chest is something else entirely new.

“Emotions are complicated…” I looked up at the sky and let out a deep sigh.

 

Morning again. Rain drizzled down and dampened the courtyard. It poured without break, filling the courtyard and its four adjoining rooms with sound as it cleansed the air of its filth.

“Are you going alone again?” Kuro asked with a whine as I prepared my things.

I crouched down and hugged him. “Don’t worry. The job’s going fine, and lately, the spirits have accepted me as a Strangeling. I can walk around alone without much danger.”

“But who knows what might happen? At least let me see you there.”

“No. I was told I had to do this job alone.”

As I said this, Kuro sadly wagged his tail.

He really did worry for me… I buried my face into his warm fur. “I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling that I should do this job alone. I feel like only then can I understand…”

“Understand what?”

“How to feel anger, Kuro.”

He tilted his head. My words evidently weren’t getting through.

I smiled and put my nose to his. “I want to be able to feel anger when someone mocks or threatens those dear to me.”

“Are you still hung up on what happened that one time? I don’t mind it at all, you know.”

“I know, but… This is something I have to do. So please…wait for me.”

Kuro’s puppy dog eyes began to moisten, and he licked the tip of my nose. I laughed at the ticklishness, encouraging him to climb onto me and lick my face even more.

“Hey, Kuro, stop it… It tickles!”

“What’s wrong? This is how we express our love!”

Oh. So love can be expressed like this too. I smiled lightly and hugged him tightly one more time.

“Never a sour moment between you two, is there?” I turned to see Noname standing at my room’s entrance. She handed me a bag of medicine. “Here, today’s portion.”

“Thanks.”

She stared intently at me as I took the bag. “Suimei…how have you been sleeping?”

“No change, sadly,” I answered.

She reached out and patted my hair. “Bedhead. If…if you ever change your mind and want to try some medicine, let me know. Of course, the best thing would be for you to sleep soundly without aid, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“All right…” I felt bad for making her worry, so I added, “Sorry.”

With a sad smile, she said, “I hope you can come to trust this world soon.”

“You knew?” I looked at her with surprise.

“But of course.” Noname shrugged. “Not only were you an exorcist who fought spirits, but you’re a human being. I can’t imagine you’d be able to trust spirits right away.”

“Yes, well…”

“You’re different from Kaori, who was raised here. Take your time. I’ll wait as long as I must to earn your trust.” Noname smiled tenderly and gave me a quick “Good luck with your job,” before leaving the room.

Without thinking, I left the room, chasing after her. I opened my mouth to say something, but I just couldn’t find the words.

Trust.

I was fairly sure that I held that emotion toward Kuro. But how was I supposed to develop it toward others? How was I supposed to know who to feel it for?

Emotions were so complicated… I wished someone could just tell me all the answers.

I clenched my fist and watched Noname leave. A sweet scent tickled my nose—the scent of tea olive. It was a soft fragrance that didn’t overwhelm, gentle to its core.

 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!”

Today marked the fifth day I visited the woman. At present, she was having one of her occasional sporadic fits of emotion.

“Aaah, my baby!” Her screams echoed throughout the zashiki cell. Listening to her made me painfully aware that, despite how calm she might have looked before, her soul was too damaged to endure reincarnation. She had lingering regrets to do with her child. I could only imagine what wretched fate had befallen her.

Even someone as dull to emotion as me could understand the grief of having something horrible happen to my child. But grief wasn’t all the woman felt.

“Why…?! If…if only I could have stayed by your side!” The woman thrashed her body wildly against the walls of the stone prison, causing chunks of stone to fall down. “Why couldn’t I protect my child? Why couldn’t I make him happy?”

The woman held a fierce anger directed at none other than herself. Whenever it surfaced, she became unable to control herself and began harming her own body. I had been so shocked the first time I saw it that I’d tried to call for help.

But of course, the woman was not alive, so her attempts at self-harm were meaningless. Her body bore no injuries nor felt any pain, a fact she further lamented. After realizing she couldn’t atone through self-harm, she would soon after start apologizing to her child.

I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t think there was anything I—someone who couldn’t understand her circumstances, her sadness, her anger—could say to her without only hurting her more.

“Why…?!” Like on the other days, the woman’s wails gradually eased into weeping.

I gripped the book I was supposed to hand her tightly. I wanted to free her from her suffering, even if I could only lessen it by a second. If I were to give the book to her now…would I calm her rage and be able to hear her gentle voice again?

That was what these books were for, right? The last light of salvation for their souls, the spider’s thread.

“Oh, my. She’s hollering away again, I see.” Yao Bikuni suddenly appeared, filling the prison with the stench of tobacco.

I grimaced before approaching her. “…Some days before, you said I was just the man for this job. Why was that? If what keeps driving this woman mad is anger, did you give me this job to try and make me learn it?”

Yao Bikuni blew a puff of tobacco smoke into my face, causing me to choke. She gave me a look of displeasure and curtly replied, “Think for yourself. I am not so kind as to tell you everything.”

I coughed. “B-but…”

“But nothing. I am just doing my job. Besides, a person’s emotions are theirs alone. You cannot learn them through imitation.” She looked down on me, narrowing her eyes into an icy stare. “Think of emotions as a powerful medicine, young man. They can heal, but they can just as easily send one spiraling into an abyss. They cannot be controlled in the slightest. It is thanks to emotions that humans know joy, but those same emotions also drive men to murder.”

“What are you trying to say…?”

“If it weren’t for those emotions you so desperately desire, this zashiki cell would be empty.”

Just then, the woman slammed her body against the lattice grid wall. “Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!”

“How noisy. No matter how much you scream or lament or cry…nothing will change. Don’t you realize it’s all too late anyhow?” Yao Bikuni looked coldly upon the woman, who writhed in anger and sadness.

I couldn’t help but pity the woman. “Don’t be stupid; it’s not too late. Her soul can still be saved by reading these books. She always calms down when I give them to her.”

Yao Bikuni raised an eyebrow at me and scoffed. “Books cannot save this soul.”

“What?”

“Be it books or movies or memories, only a small handful can be saved by such things. Oh, how sorrowful. Truly, how sorrowful. Why is this world filled with such sorrow?” Yao Bikuni spoke in her singsong tone, then turned her back to me. “Salvation doesn’t come easily. Even if one wishes for it from the depths of their heart, the gods will always have their backs turned.”

Something about her figure from behind looked sad. She seemed so small as she was now, covered in black cloth.

“Why…?” I stared at the book in my hand, and my voice burst out in a yell. “If this book won’t save her, then why are you making me bring them?!”

“Because if it’s at all possible, I want her to be saved…” Yao Bikuni muttered. “Either way, you’ve been paid. See through your remaining days.” She waved and left.

“You think she can’t be saved but want me to try anyway? …I don’t understand.” I couldn’t make sense of her words. My head was pure chaos. I wanted to scream and thrash.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice. Her fit must have stopped while I wasn’t paying attention. As though not remembering her earlier emotional outburst at all, she reached a white hand through the lattice grid wall and beckoned.

I approached and put the medicine and book into her hand like always.

She laughed. “Not that. Or are you against this old lady touching you?”

It appeared she wanted to touch my hand. I hesitated for a moment, but eventually I gingerly put my fingers on hers.

Her hand was absent of warmth, clearly not of the living. It was as cold as the stone walls around us. But something about the smoothness of her pale and willowy fingers comforted me.

Once I touched her, she reached out further and brushed my hand. “You’re warm. It’s as though I can feel your kindness.”

I jerked my hand back and violently shook my head. “I’m not kind. I can’t even get properly angry when those important to me are being belittled. How could an emotionless puppet be kind?”

“Puppet?”

“Yes. My father… My family raised me to be emotionless, an easy-to-control puppet.”

Ah… My chest ached. I could tell this ache didn’t come from love. It made breathing hurt, and it made me wish I could curl up and hug my knees. Kaori was right. This ache could mean many things. Without thinking, I frowned and cast my eyes down.

“Hey, come closer,” the woman said.

“Huh?”

“C’mon, closer. Yes, just like that.”

I did as she said and leaned against the lattice grid wall. Then, she reached out from the darkness with both arms and hugged me. I froze, taken by surprise.

“It’s all right…” she said gently. “Good boy… It must have been hard, having to be a puppet.” She moved closer to my ear and whispered. “So what if you have some difficulties expressing emotions? That’s completely fine. Did you know, the first thing humans learn to do is cry?”

“Huh?”

“We cry because we’re spooked. We cry because we’re hungry. We can’t help it, because that’s just how babies are, you know?” She giggled. “But after that, we learn to smile. At first, our hearts aren’t in it. We smile out of simple physiological response. But over time, we learn to mean it. We learn what joy is, and we commit to memory the faces of those we love. We learn to express the feelings overflowing inside us with a smile.”

“Really…”

The woman was talking about the stages of infant development. I, who had up until then thought people were just born full of emotion, listened intently.

“The very last thing we learn is anger. By that point, we’re no longer babies but toddlers. Toddlers are very moody things, freely angered when things don’t go their way. We even call the period out of infancy the ‘terrible twos’ because of it. It’s a very trying period for parents.”

I felt the woman hug me tighter through the lattice grid wall and sensed some hesitation.

“You don’t need to feel bad about not getting angry; people develop their emotions in order. I know you can smile, and I know you can cry. You simply haven’t learned how to get angry yet. I recommend reading lots of books. Books are the best for developing emotions. You have all the time in the world to read. After all…”

Your life has only just begun.

Saying that, she began to wrap something around my wrist.

“This is a charm. The black and red beads are beautiful, aren’t they? They’re my favorite colors. Please, take it. I hope it brings you good fortune in life.”

Ah… I felt it again. What did this ache in my chest mean? Why did my lips tremble so?

“What makes you say that…?” I asked.

“Hm?”

“Why do you say my life’s only just begun?”

“It’s because you’re just like a newborn child. You cry, you smile, but you still can’t get angry.”

“I don’t recall ever crying in front of you.”

“I don’t know about that. I was able to work out that you were smiling from your general feel before, but today’s different.” The woman gently brushed my head and whispered, “Because I can feel your warm tears on my arm.”

I clenched my teeth so she wouldn’t hear me sob, and I gently placed my hand over her arm. Her arm was cold, just like her hand, but something about its chill was comforting, so I stayed like that for some time, unmoving.

 

***

 

My peaceful days with the woman quickly neared their end.

As the tenth day approached, I found myself spending more and more time in the prison. I talked about various things with the woman and gave her many different books—not just the ones Yao Bikuni provided but also others I brought from the bookstore.

Now that I thought back on it, nobody had ever actually properly read a book to me before. Perhaps the ones who raised me hadn’t considered it necessary, or had even thought it would be detrimental to my obligation to control my emotions. The woman was the first to ever read a book to me, and so many at that.

She loved picture books the most. She loved how they reminded her of her child and always had happy endings. Children’s literature was filled to the brim with the fantastical; it was a world full of impossibilities made easily possible. Their stories always tickled my imagination and moved my heart.

I learned that stories are a conversation between author and reader. Stories convey messages. Sometimes this message conflicts with the reader’s beliefs, and sometimes they resonate. For the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to enrich your mind.

Finally, the tenth day came. The last day. On that day, Yao Bikuni instructed me to wait until night to go into the dark. Like always, she didn’t explain why—it was always “think for yourself” with her—but I did so anyway, thinking it strange all the while.

Huh…?

I had just reached the bank of the lake when I noticed the sky was far brighter than usual. The sky of the spirit realm took on a redder color when autumn came, just as nature’s leaves did. But that red was exceedingly more potent than it should have been, overwhelming the light of the stars and casting the earth in crimson.

It unnerved me.

I have to hurry.

I hoofed it toward the small island, glancing into the lake as I crossed the bridge. Ripples skirted across the water’s surface, concealing the underwater prison from view. I felt some relief at that fact, as while it was never as bad as the first time I’d seen it, something about the sight of that prison remained unsettling to me.

I had been in a melancholic mood the entire day and would have preferred not to deal with the sight of that prison. I wasn’t quite sure why I felt melancholic, however, as it wasn’t any particular anniversary or otherwise special day, other than being the last day of this job.

Finally, I crossed the bridge. All around me on the island, nuns were hurriedly scampering around. At the center of them all was Yao Bikuni, telling the others what to carry and to where. I felt a cold sweat run down my back the moment I realized the nuns were moving humans. The humans lay unmoving on stretchers, carried by the nuns, and black cloths covered their heads.

“Oh, you came,” Yao Bikuni called.

I twitched before bowing my head to her. Then, like always—no, a bit faster than usual—I made my way to the woman in the prison.

But I was immediately stopped. Just before the vermilion, lacquered lattice grid door I always passed, a veiled nun blocked my way. “The prison is empty today.”

“Wha—” I spun around to look at Yao Bikuni and stammered, “Wh-where is she?”

“Who?”

“You know who… The one I’ve been bringing books to all this time, where is she?!”

She pointed to a rough woven mat onto which the humans were being tumbled, their heads still covered by black cloths. I immediately ran forward and reached for the nearest black cloth I could.

“You mustn’t!” Yao Bikuni yelled, making me pause. “…Don’t get in the way, you fool.”

“How is this getting in the way?”

“It simply is. Just don’t do anything and watch. Besides, what good would removing their cloths do? Do you even know what her face looks like?”

She was right. The only thing I knew about the woman was her voice and her hands…

I pulled my hand back. Seeing I had given up, Yao Bikuni looked up at the sky. She appeared to be waiting for something.

“What the hell is going on…?” Unsure what to do, I simply stood where I was. All around me, the nuns still hurried from place to place. I looked into the bag I had brought and saw the books I had planned to give the woman. According to her, these books were a bit different from her usual fare. These were the books she had wanted to read with her child once he grew up.

“That’s too bad…” The words spilled out of my mouth before I realized it. Too bad for who? Was she the one looking forward to reading these books together? Or was it me?

Suddenly, I heard a scream.

“Aaah… You mustn’t… You mustn’t go!”

It came from a nun on her knees before the woven mat. She was holding down one of the black cloths covering a face. I was confused as to what was going on—until I realized the contents of the black cloth were wriggling.

“It’s begun,” Yao Bikuni said, pointing toward the sky. “The Leonids will be showering today. Each shooting star will coincide with somebody’s soul burning out.”

What in the world is this nun saying? I wondered. I stared at her, confused.

A bit pale-faced, she raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s a bit unusual for us to have clueless strangers here on such a sickening day. Then again, I suppose you’ve been too involved to be a stranger at this point. I guess you have a right to know. I’ve been in a somber mood today. Maybe telling you might fix that…”

She gazed at the humans lined along the woven mat and continued, “In ancient times, shooting stars were seen as ominous things. The Records of the Three Kingdoms even uses a shooting star as the premonition of Zhuge Liang’s coming death in the Battle of Wuzhang Plains.”

“So what? Isn’t that just superstition?”

“Ha ha. You mustn’t forget, this isn’t the human world. Here in the spirit realm, shooting stars are a true premonition of death… The sky of the spirit realm is terrifying. It shows the moment someone passes away ever so clearly. Weak souls can’t mentally handle seeing such things, so we hide them away at the bottom of the lake where it is dark, where they are the farthest possible distance from the sky.”

Yao Bikuni looked at the sky with great irritation and clicked her tongue. “But today is one of the few times a year a meteor shower comes near the Earth. We can’t stop the meteor showers from whisking away the weaker souls, so we bring them up here. This is their last chance.”

Does someone die every time a shooting star streaks across the sky, or does a shooting star streak across the sky every time someone dies? That question flared into my mind, but I quickly suppressed it. That wasn’t important now. What was important was that today, a great number of souls would disappear.

Yao Bikuni sighed deeply, then yelled at the souls lying on the woven mat. “You’ve rested enough, haven’t you?! Pull yourselves together and get on with your next lives already! You’ll be whisked away by the stars at this rate, and then you’ll truly fade to nothingness. Please, just move on already.”

There was no reply.

She grimaced and muttered, “Today really is a sickening day.”

In the next instant, a streak of light dashed across the sky. For a moment, a faint white line remained before fading away—a shooting star. The second it appeared, a dramatic change occurred within a number of the souls. From beneath their black cloth coverings, a dim light leaked. Gradually, those lights grew stronger, until they grew so bright that I couldn’t look at them directly. Before long, something fluttered out from underneath one of the black cloths. Its ghostly wings moved gracefully in the air, illuminating its surroundings with a dazzling light.

“A glimmerfly,” I murmured. The moment I did so, numerous glimmerflies poured out from underneath the black cloth and took to the skies.

The nuns began to wail.

“Aaah!”

“No, you mustn’t!”

The area began to brighten. Alarmed, I quickly looked around and saw more glimmerflies emerging here and there. As they rose, they fluttered about one another playfully, forming clusters. Those various clusters fell into a single line, becoming a miniature Milky Way in the sky, enhanced by the remaining traces of the shooting stars that still hung in the sky.

The wails and cries of the nuns continued. Their tears wet the earth as they lamented the fate of the souls in their care who had refused reincarnation.

As the number of glimmerflies increased, one after another, Yao Bikuni muttered, annoyed. “Glimmerflies are the shadows of souls, emitting their final lights before burning out completely. Ah… Such beautiful yet repulsive bugs they are. It truly confounds me that they long to be near humans, when they’ve rejected a new life of their own.”

The revelation of the glimmerflies’ true nature hit me like a truck. But that wasn’t what was important right now.

What do I do?

A panic began to rise in me. That woman was out here too, and at this rate, she would become glimmerflies as well. But how could I find someone whose name and face I didn’t know?

As my mind raced, more and more glimmerflies were born and began their journey to the sky.

“Suimei?” I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Ah…” Feeling like I was about to cry, I slowly turned around. Standing there was my little partner, Kuro. “Why are you here?”

“Yao Bi… Bi…? Er, that nun sent me a letter saying that today was a special day and you would need help.”

Shocked, I looked at Yao Bikuni. She was comforting a crying nun by gently patting her back.

“I don’t really get what’s going on, but do you need help, Suimei? Maybe I could help you?” Kuro asked, looking up at me with his puppy dog eyes.

Hah. That nun is kinder than she claims. I grinned wryly and crouched down. “Please help me. There’s someone I want you to find, Kuro.”

I took an item from my pocket: a string of black and red prayer beads. They were the only thing I had received from that woman, a beautiful charm meant for my good fortune. With its smell, we might be able to find her.

Understanding my intent, Kuro quickly smelled it but immediately froze afterward.

“Kuro?”

He slowly looked up at me. “…Suimei, just who have you been seeing?”

“What?”

He then bolted off as quickly as he could.

“Kuro, wait!”

He ignored me, speeding away like a bullet, until he stopped before a soul. I struggled to catch up, only to find Kuro stiff as a board.

“Kuro? What’s wrong?”

“Suimei…” He looked up at me. “What is Midori doing here?”

 

“Mo…ther?”

Midori was my mother’s name.

You must be strong. Any time you feel lonely, or like you might lose control of yourself, just pull Inugami close and sleep. Those were the last words she had left me with before she died when I was five.

“Midori. Midori. Wake up. Midori!” Kuro frantically tried to shake awake the soul who he claimed was my mother. But the soul didn’t respond.

“Ah, jeez! Always the late riser, aren’t you?!” Impatient, Kuro bit the black cloth covering the soul and flung it off—revealing a terribly thin woman.

My mind froze the moment I saw her. The mother in my memories had luxurious black hair and a beautiful, albeit pale, face. I could clearly recall her gentle light-brown eyes even now. But the woman before me was different. Her face was gaunt, and her hair was gray. Her lips were cracked dry and her eyes sunken. She was so thin that her collarbone was clearly outlined through her white robe. She looked like she could wither to dust at any moment.

Was this my mother? Her?

The inside of my head felt like a mess. My beautiful mother. My beloved mother. The mother who warmed me in her embrace. The mother who accepted everything about me and could do anything… Could this weak woman really be her?

Suddenly, the woman faintly opened her eyes and, with great effort, began to speak. “Is…is this a dream? I see Kuro here…”

“Midori! It’s not a dream. I’m here. I’m really here with you!” Kuro said.

“Ha ha. You sound so energetic, Kuro. And you’re just as cute as ever,” she said before breaking into a coughing fit. After some deep breaths, she smiled and continued. “I’m so happy I could meet you at the end of my life as a soul…”

Gently, she closed her eyes.

There was no mistaking it. It was her. This woman was my mother after all.

The moment I realized that, my chest began to tighten so badly that it hurt to breathe. I fell to my knees and held my chest. A wave of nausea overcame me, and I broke out in a cold sweat. My vision became blurry and my balance unstable. The world spun around me, and my body no longer did as I wanted.

“S-Suimei?! Are you okay?!” Kuro ran up to me.

With a trembling hand, I reached out and touched his small body. The moment I felt his soft warmth, I calmed down a bit. But my head was still filled with questions.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why—why would Mother refuse to reincarnate?

“Sui…mei?” my mother mumbled, having heard Kuro.

Timidly, I looked at her as she lay on her side. She turned her head to face me and opened her eyelids the narrowest bit, revealing eyes that were a light brown that matched mine. They looked just as I remembered them.

“Is my sweet little baby really here?”

“Ah…” I looked down at my body in shock. Perhaps my mother still believed that I was five years old. I cursed myself for having grown. Of course, there wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it, but I cursed myself nonetheless for not having the exact appearance that my mother was looking for.

If I said I was her son, wouldn’t she be disappointed? That thought only lasted for a fleeting moment as Kuro, with his tail standing taut and his pink tongue hanging out, said in his happy-go-lucky voice, “He is, he is! Suimei’s right here, Midori!”

Oh, Kuro, you simpleminded idiot… I frowned and met my mother’s eyes.

She stared at me unblinkingly for a while, before abruptly her face crinkled into a smile. “My… You’ve grown into a fine young man.”

She then spread her arms wide. I froze, not understanding her intent for a moment, but soon I realized that my mother was looking for a hug. I moved closer.

“Moth…er?” I crouched beside her. Too embarrassed to hug her, I touched her hands. Ah… They were the same hands I’d felt in the prison. Cold and willowy, yet soft. Her hand gently brushed my cheek. She was gentle, so gentle, like she was touching a treasure. “Mother…”

“I can’t believe it. It’s a miracle. You’re really here, Suimei…”

“Mother…”

“You’ve grown so big. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier. I never realized it was you bringing me those books. But then again, it was so dark, wasn’t it?”

“Mother…!” I didn’t know what to say, what to talk about. All I could do was say “Mother, Mother,” over and over like a broken record.

The corner of her eyes creased as she smiled. Transparent droplets dribbled out of her eyes as she gazed at me lovingly. That was when she said something strange. “I have no more regrets. Now I can fade away with my heart at ease.”

My eyes grew wide. “Wh-why? How could you want to fade away? I don’t understand…”

“Ha ha. It’s simple, my child…” Her lids lowered, and she spoke sadly. “I’ve made you unhappy. That is my sin. Nothing more, and nothing less. I’m a mother who failed to protect her child. I’m a mother who caused pain to her child. I’m a mother who couldn’t be there for her child. Those reasons alone are more than enough to refuse my next life.”

She reached out and touched my white hair. Tears fell from her eyes yet again. “It must have been so difficult…so painful…to believe you were a puppet. I’m so, so sorry…” She looked me straight in the eyes and continued to apologize. “I had the choice of not bearing you. No matter how you looked at it, you couldn’t have been happy in that house. But I bore you anyway, just because I wanted to have a cute baby. That was the only thing on my mind. You’re a victim, Suimei. A victim of my own human ego. Won’t you hate this foolish mother of yours?”

The hand brushing my hair stopped and fell. I watched, aghast, as gravity pulled it down—but before it could fall completely, I caught it in my hand. She blinked a few times and looked at me in surprise.

With certainty, I felt it.

I was loved.

I was loved by my mother from the bottom of her heart.

As though the sun had come to dwell in my chest, warmth began to spread throughout my body. All the stories I had heard in that zashiki prison had been about me. All the words she had offered for her precious, beloved child, those had been for me!

In this moment, I felt nothing but proud to call this woman, who put her child before herself, my mother. I felt that I too could put her before all else. She was precious to me, irreplaceable.

Ah… Is this… Is this what love is?

Finally placing a name to the emotion welling up inside me, I reached out to my mother, lifted her up, and hugged her feeble body. I hugged her tightly, as though trying to make certain she was, indeed, with me in that moment. I thought about what she meant to me and said, “…I still remember you. Your warmth. The smile you would only briefly show. Your gentle smell. Yes, there were many struggles in my life, but I always had my memories of you to get me through them.”

I lightened my grip around her and met her shocked gaze. “So please, don’t say you’ve sinned. Don’t regret this. Please…don’t speak ill of the mother I love. To me, your existence is irreplaceable.”

“Suimei…”

“Sure, I may have had some rough patches. I still have some memories that hurt to recall. But now, I am surrounded by friends.”

My partner, Kuro. The annoying but helpful Kaori. The nosy Noname. The teasing twins, Kinme and Ginme. The open-minded man who had let me stay at his bookstore, Shinonome.

I didn’t have to hunt spirits anymore either. I no longer had to put myself in harm’s way, and instead I made my living working at the apothecary. I was living the most peaceful days of my life yet.

“I’m…probably the happiest I’ve ever been right now. So please… Please…” My throat stung. For some reason, I couldn’t speak well. But I had to say it anyway. Kaori was right. We have to clearly communicate our feelings. At this rate, I would be parting with my mother with misunderstandings still left between us. I couldn’t allow that to happen!

“I want you to be reborn,” I begged her. “Don’t disappear, please. Please listen to your child’s selfish desire, Mother.”

She went wide-eyed for a moment, then relaxed into a soft smile. “…If I’m reborn, maybe I can meet you again. That would be nice.”

“Me too!” Kuro said. “I want to meet you too!”

“My! Ha ha, then I guess we all feel the same way.”

Kuro stood up on his hind legs and flailed his arms to try and appeal to Mother. She laughed happily from the bottom of her heart as he did. I watched the two talk with a thin smile, but our time together was fast approaching its end.

Without warning, my mother’s eyes suddenly became vacant. The strength slipped from her body, and she grew heavy in my arms. Staring up at the sky, she said, “Suimei… I wish I could’ve read more books to you. I wanted to share more stories with you, and to laugh and cry and be angry together. Live free. Do what you want to do. Don’t suppress your emotions anymore. Be true to yourself.”

“Mother? What’s wrong? You sound like you’re making your last requests.”

“Perhaps I am… Suimei, if things ever become unbearable, just pull Inugami close and sleep. And if at all possible, find someone who will hold you tight.” A single large teardrop fell from her eye. It fell onto my hand, warm.

“Mothe…” I began, but I couldn’t finish before her body began to unravel. I watched, mouth agape, as her body came apart like ribbons, starting with her extremities. The pieces that came undone changed shape into butterflies that took to the skies.

“No… Don’t go, Mother! Wait!” Like a child, I shouted, reaching for the butterflies flying away. But the graceful butterflies evaded my fingers.

In an instant, an emotion buried deep inside me burst forth. Like magma flowing from a crater, it swallowed me whole and reforged me with incandescent white flames. The insides of my head grew numb, preventing me from thinking anything. I took those flames and directed them at myself, cursing myself over and over for my powerlessness.

“Damn it, no! You can’t leave me!” I watched as her body gradually whittled away, becoming lighter and lighter. I could do nothing for her but yell. “No, no, no, you can’t leave me! I love you! I love you, damn it! Aaaaaaaaah!”

At that moment, my mother was completely reduced to a flock of butterflies. The body I held disappeared in its entirety, replaced by the light-scattering butterflies now scrambling toward the sky.

I looked at my hands in a daze. I couldn’t do a single thing. My heated mind was quickly cooled by the feeling of loss inside me.

“Ah…” I murmured, noticing there was something left in my hand: a tiny, tiny embryo. Wrapped in golden light, it drew in its undeveloped legs and closed its eyes. Then it floated up into the air and slowly ascended, away into the sky.

 

“I guess even pigs fly sometimes.” While I was stuck in a daze, Yao Bikuni had appeared by my side with a delighted smile.

“What…happened to my mother?” I fearfully asked.

She grinned meaningfully. “Think about it yourself. I’m not so kind as to tell you everything.”

“Right…” I released the tension in my body, lay flat on my back, and looked up at the sky. Countless glimmerflies fluttered about. They made flocks and formed a long belt stretching up to the sky, a sight I might have considered beautiful if I weren’t aware of their origin. But I was aware of their origin, and it made me feel conflicted.

Yao Bikuni, who had begun walking away, stopped and turned around to say, “Oh, right. Keep the truth of these butterflies a secret from Kaori, okay?”

“Why?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “That human girl has no need to know. These butterflies can just remain butterflies to her. Beautiful butterflies that light up the darkness of the spirit realm. If you’re a man, you can show that much consideration, right?”

“Fine.” I nodded, agreeing to keep the secret. Just as she turned away, self-satisfied, I said, “You’re a kind person.”

“Huh?! Don’t be ridiculous!” she exclaimed.

I smiled at her mortification. “Thank you for letting me meet my mother.”

She frowned and turned away with a huff. “I just so happened to be in the mood for a miracle… Congratulations.” With that, she left.

“Suimei?” Kaori had appeared in Yao Bikuni’s place. She seemed flustered by how different the island was from usual and timidly asked, “Did something happen? Noname told me I should come, but is something going on?”

I really was surrounded by kind people.

With a wry grin, I carefully stood up. I looked up at the blinding number of glimmerflies fluttering away and frowned. “Let’s head home.”

“Huh? Ah… Sure.”

I began to walk toward the bridge when I felt something tug on my sleeve. I turned back to see Kaori with a slightly torn look on her face. “What’s up?” I asked.

“Um, well…I’m not really sure what to say, but…” She seemed to hesitate for a moment before making her mind up and spreading out her arms. “It’s okay to cry when you feel like crying.”

“What…?”

“Remember that time with Sasuke and Hatsu? I felt like my heart had split in two, but I tried not to cry. That was until you said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with being sad, with feeling lonely, with feeling pain at saying goodbye.’” She drew closer and hesitantly hugged me. “I can tell that you’re sad right now, so let me say it this time… ‘Just let go and cry…dummy.’”

Ah… My heart ached so painfully… But it was a bittersweet, uplifting ache. Tears naturally welled up in my eyes as I, still a bit uncertain, slowly wrapped my arms around her in a hug.

“You tried your best, Suimei. There, there.”

“…Don’t treat me like a child, you idiot.”

“Sorry!”

I buried my face in her shoulder, trying to muffle my voice as I cried.

Her body warmth permeated my skin, melting the ice in the depths of my heart and cutting the strings that bound my hands and feet.

By the time my tears came to a stop underneath the bright glimmerfly-lit autumn sky, my heart was freer than before.