Yatagarasu Series
Volume 5:
Princess Tamayori
Author: Abe Chisato
Part 1: Taking Shelter
from the Rain
May, 1995.
Shiho dropped her travel bag on a bus stop bench. The late spring rain fell incessantly. The bus stop looked old and rundown. Behind her, a poster for an osteopathic clinic peeled from the wall. Water dripped from the hole-riddled corrugated metal roof.
The letters on the tattered bus stop sign were faded and barely legible. The sign read: Ōnumabuchi. That was where she was.
She checked the time. She was supposed to be in Ōnumaguchi.
I made a mistake. A really stupid mistake.
This was the last stop for the bus she’d taken. No other buses had come. She considered contacting her uncle, but the rainy, foggy day made travel unsafe. Visibility was less than two meters.
There was a telephone booth, but Shiho saw no houses. It was almost impossible to tell whether there was anything at all in this place.
“What should I do…?”
Shiho weighed her options. Walking to the right bus stop without her umbrella was out; she’d left it behind. With that settled, she used the phone booth to call her uncle and explain her mix-up. After the call, she returned to the bus stop and sat down on the bench to wait.
The air around her was still and silent. She was deep in the mountains; there was no traffic here. Shiho had been born not far from here, but she hadn’t returned home since she was born. She’d lived in Tokyo for most of her life. She almost felt like she was running away from home, but that wasn’t quite the right feeling.
It had taken four hours to get here. She’d taken trains and buses both; the location was remote and few routes came here. She’d been certain of her transfer, but of course she’d made a mistake and inconvenienced everybody, including herself.
Raindrops fell in scattered points through the air. It was too early for the sun to set, but the sky was dark and obscured by fog. The green grass was vividly alive, gleaming in the rain. Rain struck the roof above her, a metallic and vaguely musical sound.
It was May, but the air was chilly. Shiho shivered. She was searching for a hoodie in her bag when a strange sound caught her attention. What was that? Not a car engine.
Splashing. Unhurried but steady, like footsteps. Was someone there? She squinted through the fog.
There: someone short, a shadow moving through clouds. A child?
“Hey—you! Who are you?” Shiho’s voice sliced through the stillness. She rushed from the shelter of the bus stop, blocking the path of a dripping young boy.
Without waiting for a response, Shiho gently took the boy by the arm and escorted him back under the bus stop roof before examining him. He was a small child, probably not even ten, and very skinny.
“Look at you; you’re soaked!” Shiho said. “Where’s your umbrella, little guy? And where’s your mom? Is your house near here?”
The skin of his arm was ice cold. He was so pale that he looked sick.
Shiho knelt beside the boy and rummaged in her travel bag for a towel. She draped it around his shoulders and gently rubbed his head, then removed her own hoodie and offered it to him.
What was this boy doing here in the fog and rain? He shouldn’t be alone out here. She had to help him find his way home. Shiho picked up her travel bag and considered her options. It was still raining, so she and the boy should probably wait for it to stop. Then they could go into town and find his house.
The boy’s hair under the towel was so blond that it looked silver in the gray light. His face and hands were dirty like he’d been playing in mud. His skin was colorless, bleached like rice paper and just as delicate. She’d noticed while dressing him in the hoodie that his clothes were in tatters. She didn’t recognize the style of the shirt he wore; it wasn’t a T-shirt or a dress shirt. His limbs were as thin as sticks. His large eyes moved restlessly back and forth. They were as bright as sparklers, intelligent but fearful.
Shiho had never seen a boy quite like him before. He wasn’t ordinary, just like his appearance here wasn’t ordinary.
The boy’s brow knitted. “You need to go. The festival’s already started in the mountains. Stay away from the village.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t go near it.”
“You mean the festival in Sannai?”
“Yes.”
Shiho was puzzled. This boy had commanded her to leave, which was strange in and of itself. Was he scared of her because she was a stranger? She stood before the boy for a few moments, dumbfounded.
Maybe she would be scared of herself, too, if she were a lost child far from home. She put on a friendly face and said, “It just so happens that I’m here for the festival.”
“You are? That’s why you came here?”
“That’s right. I was invited here by people from Sannai. So you don’t need to worry about me being here, okay?”
If Shiho wasn’t here, she had no idea how the boy expected to get home. Buses passed this stop infrequently. She was concerned for the boy’s health and safety. He might not want her here, but she didn’t care about that.
“Where is your house?” Shiho asked. “Is it near here?”
The boy said nothing.
Shiho didn’t know what to do. She could call the police, but that might be overkill. Her best option was probably to wait for her uncle. She could use his phone to try to contact the boy’s parents—or the police if it came to it.
“Would you come with me when my uncle picks me up?” Shiho asked. She crouched down to look at the boy again.
The boy blinked. “You’re very… kind.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.” Shiho forced a smile. “Sorry if you think I’m some kind of meddling stranger, but I can’t just leave you out here in the rain by yourself.”
The boy’s mouth twisted. “I warned you,” he said. “It was for your own good. But it’s too late now.” The boy stared past Shiho, into the fog.
Following his line of sight, Shiho turned around just as a black car emerged from the fog. The silver hood ornament shone brightly as the car splashed through puddles. The car was of foreign make and looked expensive.
The black car stopped right in front of the bus stop. The driver rolled his window down. “Shiho! There you are. I was so worried about you.”
The driver was her uncle. Shiho gave him a little wave as he got out of the car.
“I’m sorry, uncle Shūichi. I got the bus stops mixed up.”
“I figured as much. Did you fall asleep on the bus?” He handed her a folding umbrella patterned with canola blossoms. “I chatted with the bus driver. He said you got off the bus in a hurry. He was concerned that you’d gotten off in the wrong place.”
“Thank you very much,” Shiho said as she accepted the umbrella.
“I’m glad you’re all right. Shall we go?” He spun around to re-enter the car.
“Wait a minute,” Shiho said. “Um… I know it’s a bother, but this boy is by himself. Can we take him along?”
Her uncle paused and turned back. “A boy? What boy?”
Shiho gasped. She looked around, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.
***
“Everything’s all right,” her uncle said slowly. “Maybe you’re just tired. When you come to visit again, I’ll pick you up at the station, all right? Then you won’t need to figure out the bus schedules.”
Shiho got into the car with her uncle. There was a built-in ashtray above the cup holders that was full of cigarette butts. Her uncle stubbed out his cigarette with one hand as he changed gears.
Shiho settled in the passenger seat. She gave her uncle a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry you had to come all this way.”
Her uncle brushed her apology aside as he started driving. “It’s fine, it’s fine, everyone makes mistakes. There are many places with similar names along the road to the Dragon Marsh. We couldn’t see it earlier—blast this fog—but oh! There it is.”
Between the trees beyond the guardrail, Shiho saw a brief glimmer of sunshine on water. The landscape was all swampland; reflected sunlight gleamed on many small pools of water. She saw a road sign from out of the car window: This way to the Dragon Marsh.
As Shiho gazed through the window glass, the white fog lifted a little. She saw a large lake before them and a mountain in the middle distance. An island rested in the middle of the lake. They were driving over a bridge toward the island.
A traditional red shrine gate stood on the island’s roadway; there must be a shrine or temple on the island somewhere. Houses that looked like private residences were clustered around the bridge. She saw signs for Sannai Village, which was just ahead.
Sannai was built in the shadow of the mountain they were driving toward. It was a picturesque peak, not very tall but strangely symmetrical and curved like the sides of a bowl. Shiho noticed another red shrine gate on the mountainside. A long stone staircase wound around the mountain like a snake.
“Is there a shrine on the mountain?” Shiho asked.
“Looks like it,” her uncle said without interest. “It’s sacred ground, and no one ever goes there without permission. That’s Mt. Ara. A long time ago, there was supposed to be a dragon in the marsh. The villagers offered up fish and other things to keep the dragon happy, but for whatever reason, the dragon was forgotten, and people stopped making offerings. Those were tough times for Sannai—storms, rockslides, famine, you name it, it happened. Then a priest came and told everyone they’d been neglecting the dragon, who was the god of Mt. Ara.
“A village girl learned of the mountain god’s displeasure and offered herself to appease the god’s wrath and save the village. She jumped into the marsh. Just before she drowned, the mountain god found her and accepted her sacrifice. ‘A girl’s soul—what a splendid offering. Create a shrine for me on that mountain and continue to worship me. I will protect your village,’ the mountain god said. The girl vanished, riding on the dragon’s back as they flew to the peak of Mt. Ara.
“After that, disasters stopped happening and the rice harvests got better. The girl is also considered to be a god or saint who watches over and protects the village. That’s what the Sannai festival is about, so you might as well learn the story. The festival is held out of gratitude to the girl and the mountain god.”
Shiho nodded.
“You picked a good day to visit,” her uncle said. “There’s plenty of food and drink, and everyone will be in a good mood. This festival is held annually. It’s a special day.”
As her uncle finished speaking, the car passed under the mountain’s shadow. They’d left the Dragon Marsh behind. The car made a wide detour around the mountain until they reached a rural road that cut upwards toward the peak. The rain had lessened as they’d traveled, but now it fell in sheets again. The mountain road was made of old stone and had never been paved. The car ride was bumpy and Shiho could barely see anything.
“Are we almost there?” Shiho asked.
“We are,” her uncle said. He parked the car. “Everyone will be happy to see you. They’ve been waiting for you to come.”
The rain let up again, allowing Shiho to take in her surroundings. They were in the village, looking down on it from a slight height. Sannai was entirely enclosed by the mountain upon which it was built, aside from a sliver of road that led to the Dragon Marsh. The road, which had been rough until just moments ago, was paved and nicely maintained within the village. Most of the houses she saw were traditionally Japanese in style, though a few were newer Western-style homes. The scene before her looked like a residential neighborhood on the fringes of a large city, with a few major differences: it was very quiet, and few people roamed the streets.
The higher part of the village where Shiho and her uncle had parked was less residential and more palatial; Shiho saw mansions and grand estates with opulent gardens. She never would have thought to look for such luxurious housing in such a remote area.
When people burst through the front doors of the nearest mansion and waved, Shiho wasn’t sure what to think. Unfamiliar faces smiled at her and called out to her and her uncle.
“You’re late! We almost thought you weren’t coming this year!”
“Shūichi told us all about you! We’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Shiho!”
“Hi there, Shiho!”
There were so many people that Shiho didn’t recognize. Young and old, men and women, they all offered her waves and friendly smiles. The more elderly people had pronounced accents that made them a bit more difficult to understand.
The villagers’ delight to see her far exceeded Shiho’s expectations. She should probably be happy about the warm welcome, but it felt unearned and alien. Everyone looked happy to see her. There wasn’t a frowning face in sight.
Her uncle’s mansion was a fine two-story Japanese house. A few women wearing aprons greeted Shiho and her uncle at the door. They grinned broadly and ushered Shiho inside.
“Uh, thanks for having me,” Shiho said, bowing slightly before she entered the mansion.
“We’re so glad to see you,” one of the women said.
“Please make yourself at home! The more the merrier!” A different woman — Shiho’s aunt — came into the entryway. She wore tasteful makeup and an elegant pastel pink shirt and blouse. She guided Shiho into the living room before they could properly exchange greetings.
A huge spread of food awaited Shiho. The living room table was full to overflowing with brightly colored sushi in decorative boxes, brown seaweed snacks, and flaky fish. The pile of tempura was like a little mountain surrounded by a circle of white rice. Simmered mountain vegetables floated to the surface of an enormous bowl of stew. The scent of steamed bamboo shoots and spices wafted through the air.
There was food on the table that Shiho had never even heard of before: pheasant hot pot with yellow fat floating on it and sashimi made from masu salmon. The women in aprons kept bringing more platters of food out into the living room. Shiho had no idea where they intended to put them all.
“Sorry I’m late,” a man said from the living room doorway. “Is there somewhere I can put this sushi platter? It’s heavy. I walked all the way here.”
“You’re not late,” Shiho’s aunt said gently. “And you shouldn’t complain. You chose to walk here yourself.”
The man entered the living room and introduced himself as one of Shiho’s distant relatives who lived nearby. The sushi platter he carried was intimidatingly large.
“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everybody, and everyone’s family,” the man said.
“If you don’t introduce yourself properly, poor Shiho won’t remember you,” Shiho’s aunt said sternly.
The man shrugged. “Well, let’s have a look at you, Miss Shiho. You’ve really grown up! It’s wonderful to see you!”
“Empty compliments make you even more forgettable,” Shiho’s aunt said, exasperated.
After a while, Shiho excused herself to use the bathroom. She wanted some time to be alone with her thoughts. The feast and the villagers’ effusive good cheer overwhelmed her. She’d never spent much time around adults she didn’t know. She was exhausted, but it was far too early for her to go to sleep. She steeled herself to return to the living room.
On her way back, Shiho took a wrong turn somewhere and wound up in the family’s shrine room. The floor was made entirely of traditional rice mats, and a small altar was set up to the Buddha. Shiho slid the door closed behind her and looked around. There was a girl near the altar, perhaps nine or ten years old.
“Oh!” Shiho smiled. “Are you Ayaka, my cousin?” Shiho’s uncle had written to her about Ayaka before. “Why are you sitting in here where it’s so quiet? Come to the living room. We can eat sushi together.”
Ayaka was about to respond when a thunderous shout stunned her silent.
“You—I told you not to go in there!”
A young man slid the door of the room open, enraged. His footsteps thudded heavily on the floor.
Ayaka hid her face, flustered.
The man looked like he could be in college, but not much older.
“Excuse me,” Shiho said, “but are you Shūgo?” Shūgo was her oldest cousin. “I’m Shiho. I’ve heard about you from uncle Shūichi…”
The man gave her a thousand-yard stare. He crossed the room and yanked Ayaka to her feet. Then he spun on his heel and left, dragging Ayaka with him. He slid the door closed so hard that the frame rattled.
Shiho stood there for a moment, stunned.
Less than a minute later, Shiho’s aunt found her.
“Is something the matter?”
“I think I saw Shūgo and Ayaka, but… uh…”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was he rude? He’s just in his rebellious phase. He didn’t mean to offend you.” Her smile was a polite mask. “Come, let’s go back to the party. Someone went out of their way to catch sweetfish for you, and I grilled them with salt—they’re delicious.”
Her aunt’s hand grasped her shoulder like a vise and steered her out of the shrine room.
“Um, if I may ask, why is everyone being so kind to me? I only met you all today,” Shiho said.
“You’ve come home,” her aunt said warmly. “Your mother was born in this village. This is where you belong. We haven’t celebrated a homecoming like this for, oh, forty years or so. I imagine that people are just getting swept up in all the excitement.”
Remembering the reason that Shiho had come here made her briefly uncomfortable. She swallowed her next words and considered what she should say next with great care.
“Um, about why I’m here… shouldn’t we talk about it?”
“Not now. We can save the difficult talks for later, don’t you think? It’s such a lovely party.” Her aunt pushed Shiho’s back and sent her back out into the lively living room. “We have plenty of time.”
Shiho accepted a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice from a stranger and said nothing for a long while.
***
Shiho thought about the day when she’d first met her uncle.
“You’re Kadono Shiho, right?”
It was winter, and an especially cold day. Shiho remembered seeing her breath steam in front of her face. She’d just come home from high school and was standing in the apartment building’s bicycle parking area. She was just about to get off her bike and park it when the man called her name.
The man stood behind her with the sun setting over his shoulders. She couldn’t make out his face at first because of the brightness of the winter sunlight. He was a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his late forties. He was dressed like a businessman, though he lacked a necktie. His deep brown suit fit his tall, muscular frame perfectly. He was smiling at her, an expression that revealed dark spots and acne scars on his skin. There were dark circles under his eyes.
Shiho had never seen this man before in her life. “Who are you?” she asked.
Sensing her nervousness, the man moved with slow, deliberate care. He removed a business card from his pocket and approached her so that he could hand it to her from a respectful distance.
“I’m not a stranger,” he said. “I’m your uncle.”
“Huh?”
“I’m your uncle. Your mother’s older brother.”
Shiho was stunned into silence. Her mother had never said anything about a brother. None of her mother’s relatives had attended the funeral aside from her grandmother. Her parents had died in a traffic accident.
The man who claimed to be her uncle appeared sorrowful. “I heard that my sister passed away recently. How awful. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m here to help with anything you need.”
“I don’t need anything.”
He shook his head. “My sister was always stubborn. I wish she would have contacted me so that I could help her. But now, it’s too late.”
Shiho frowned at the man. She’d been very upset, of course, when her parents had just died, but that had been years ago, when she was still in elementary school. She’d adjusted to life without them. It wasn’t easy, but she didn’t need a stranger’s help. Her lifestyle was modest, but she was content most of the time. She liked to think her parents would be proud of her. She and her grandmother shared an apartment. Shiho had no complaints about her current living situation.
“Um, are you really my mother’s older brother?”
“Yes.”
“Then why haven’t I heard anything about you until now?” Shiho was about to ask that, but before she could, her grandmother called loudly for her.
“Shiho! Shiho, where are you?” Her grandmother’s voice was loud and shrill.
“Grandma!” Shiho waved. “I’m here!”
Shiho’s grandmother threw down her grocery bags and ran to her in the bicycle parking lot. The expression on her face was one Shiho had never seen before. She appeared terrified, but also grimly determined.
“Hello, Mother,” the man said mildly. “You got old ."
My grandmother put herself between the man and me like a living wall. “Shūichi,” she said darkly. “What do you want with Shiho?”
My uncle’s face twisted into an ugly frown. “Is this how you greet the son you abandoned all those years ago?”
This question sent a rippling shock wave through Shiho. “Abandoned? Grandma abandoned you?”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not surprised that you don’t know,” he said bitterly. “I was a child. She fled with my sister, leaving me behind. That was… thirty-seven years ago, I think.”
“Shūichi!” my grandmother snapped. “Be silent.”
“Why? It’s all true, isn’t it?” He snorted. “You abandoned me and left me with that man.”
“I left you with that man because you were both tormenting Yumiko, and you know it,” my grandma said fiercely.
The man reddened. “Father and I never harmed Yumiko! That’s just an excuse so that you can justify what you did! You ran away because you didn’t want to live in the countryside anymore.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my grandma said.
“It’s not ridiculous! You fought with my father and ran off, leaving behind a ten-year-old kid with no explanation why.”
My grandma’s face drained of color.
“Father died last year. He never married again. I have a wife and three children. My son and daughters will never suffer abandonment as I have. Both their parents love them.”
Shiho didn’t know what to say. Her grandma was strict, but always very loving and protective. She’d raised Shiho after the death of her parents without complaining even once. Shiho found it hard to believe that her grandma would abandon her own child. If she’d done such a monstrous thing, there must be a very good reason for it.
“Grandma, is any of that true?” Shiho asked.
Her grandma remained silent.
“You might not want to believe it, but it’s all true,” my uncle said. He glanced at Shiho, who was obviously stunned. “But still, you and my sister aren’t to blame, Shiho. Why don’t you come by sometime and offer some incense at your grandfather’s Buddhist memorial?”
Her grandma moved to block Shiho again. She spread both of her hands wide. “I’m not letting her go. Shiho has nothing to do with that village.”
“And this has nothing to do with you. I wasn’t talking to you.”
Her grandma bit her lip. “Shiho, we’re going inside.”
“But—”
“Enough! Hurry up and go.” Shiho forcibly ushered her granddaughter into the apartment. She closed the door.
Shiho waited for a few minutes until her grandma returned to the apartment alone.
“We’ve been discovered,” her grandma said wearily. “Everything that man said is a pack of lies. Don’t believe him.” She shook her head. “I’ll tell you the truth. I left my home village behind for good reasons. Your mother was in danger. The village is old-fashioned, patriarchal, and doesn’t care what happens to women. I had to get us out of there before it was too late.” Her grandma spoke with great fervor. “From now on, even if that man comes to see you, don’t talk to him. Don’t ever accept anything from his hands.”
“But wouldn’t it be okay to listen to what he has to say for himself?”
“No, you foolish child,” my grandma said, practically yelling. “You cannot deal with this man and his ilk by talking. Ignore him. Let me know if he tries to contact you.”
Shiho nodded, overwhelmed by her grandmother’s fierce reaction.
“I don’t think the people in that village are even human,” her grandmother spat. “They’re something else—something worse.”
Her grandma muttered to herself for a few minutes.
A shiver went down Shiho’s spine as she listened. “Grandma, you’re scaring me.”
It was dark in the room. The shadows made her grandma’s face look like a monster’s. She’d never been frightened of her grandmother before that day.
***
Shiho awoke hours after the feast ended on an unfamiliar futon. A clock marked with luminous paint told her the time: two hours after midnight. It was raining again. Shiho breathed deeply of the mountain air.
She had come here despite her grandma’s warnings. Her grandma had told her strictly and harshly to never interact with her uncle under any circumstances. Being here now made her feel unfilial and ungrateful, but she wouldn’t have chosen differently. She respected her grandmother’s wishes, but there was too much about her mother and her extended family that she wanted to know.
When her grandma left this village, her uncle was just ten years old. Shiho had been ten years old when her parents had died. The coincidence felt like something more. That detail was what bothered her most about her uncle’s story. She understood the loneliness that came from being left behind as a young child. She felt like her grandma had treated her uncle cruelly. She wanted to know why her grandma had abandoned her only son.
The day after meeting her uncle for the first time, Shiho saw him lingering outside her school. She’d walked over to him so that she could listen to what he had to say.
Her uncle took her to a family restaurant and talked to her. He never spoke ill of her grandma. He talked about her cousins, the quaint mountain village where he lived, and her mother’s childhood antics. He skirted around her grandma’s reasons for leaving the village. That was the only question that he refused to answer directly.
“As for that, well… it’s not exactly a pleasant memory, you understand. If you really want to understand everything that’s happened, I think you should come and visit your grandpa’s grave. Would you come with me? There are family photo albums, letters, and journals. All of the information you want is at home.” He paused. “You must have spoken to my mother. You probably feel like you’ve gotten different pieces of the same story. You need more information to decide which of us is telling the truth, right?”
Privately, Shiho agreed with her uncle, but she was torn. She knew that if she asked her grandmother for permission to go to her uncle’s house, she would refuse. It was May and the start of Golden Week, so she didn’t have to go to school for a while.
Her uncle told her there was a festival in his village that week.
Shiho waited for her grandma to go out for errands and left her a note. Then she packed her travel bag and got on the bus.
She was in her uncle’s house now, but no one had said a word about her grandma, grandpa, or mother. The villagers treated her like she had no past. They’d been kind to her to the point of excess, but that kindness felt unnatural. She wasn’t comfortable here, but she wasn’t uncomfortable enough to leave. The sensation was like having a single strand of hair stuck perpetually in her mouth.
Were the villagers really so happy that Shiho had come home? Why? Their smiles were wide, bright, and almost identical. Masks, like her aunt’s polite smile. What weren’t they telling her?
Shiho had excused herself from the party early, pleading exhaustion from travel. She felt better when she was on her own and had more time and space to think.
Grandma… why do you dislike this village so much? she thought.
Her grandma’s warnings troubled her. She’d ignored all of them to come here. She hoped that wasn’t a mistake. She rubbed her forehead, finding it damp with sweat. Her bangs fell across her eyes.
It was late, but now that she was awake, she wasn’t able to fall asleep again. She was thirsty, too. She decided to go downstairs and get a glass of water from the kitchen. She pulled on a hoodie over her pajama top before leaving the room. It was a chilly night, and her guest room was drafty. Shūgo’s bedroom was next to hers. She walked carefully on her tiptoes so that she wouldn’t disturb anyone.
There was a light on in the kitchen. Shiho heard voices and went still.
“You’re saying it’s my fault?!” Her aunt’s voice rose hysterically.
“Be quiet!” her uncle hissed.
Shiho frowned. What were they arguing about?
“What are we supposed to do if she wakes up? It’s bad enough as it is—”
“That isn’t my fault. She barely touched the food with the medicine in it. She ate, but not the right things.”
What are they talking about? What was I supposed to eat? Shiho thought. Her aunt and uncle had been nothing but pleasant to her all day. She had no idea why they were fighting now.
“I never thought it would be so hard to prepare her,” Shiho’s uncle said.
“There’s no use in complaining. Our part is almost done. We just need to wait a little longer.”
“It’ll be trouble if she wakes up. Should we tie her up with a rope or something? If you wake her up and she goes on a rampage, won’t she get hurt?”
“Who cares? She’s a sacrifice. It doesn’t matter what happens to her now.”
Sacrifice.
Shiho took a step back. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet.
“Who’s there?!” her aunt called out. She approached Shiho with her hair in disarray, backlit by the kitchen lamps. Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a silent O. “It’s you.” She grimaced, baring her white, even teeth.
Shiho screamed and ran.
Her aunt yanked her backward with unbelievable strength. She pulled so hard on Shiho’s hood that the collar of the hoodie nearly strangled her. Shiho heard the sound of cloth tearing and ducked her head, shedding her hoodie in a panic.
“Wait!”
“Stop!”
“You’re not getting away!”
Shiho moved instinctively away from her shouting aunt and uncle. She bolted for the front door.
I need to get out of here now. Five minutes ago. Yesterday. I never should have come. Sorry, Grandma.
Shiho’s fumbling fingers unlocked the door, and then she was outside.
Men dressed in white were waiting for her. They held torches aloft and looked down at her with grim expressions. Mere hours ago, they’d greeted her with smiles and laughter. There was no emotion on their faces now. They stood as still as statues.
“Ah…”
I don’t think the people in that village are even human. They’re something else—something worse.
That was what her grandma had said.
I have to get away.
Something slammed into the back of Shiho’s head. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.
***
“I told you to leave, and you didn’t listen.”
The voice startled Shiho awake. She saw nothing; there was darkness all around her. She struggled to understand what was happening. She tried to sit up and hit her head on something hard. She was confined inside something. A coffin? She hoped not.
Shiho sat up carefully, drawing her knees to her chest and keeping her head bowed. As she moved, she realized that she was no longer wearing her pajamas. The garment she wore was tight, confining, and quite uncomfortable.
The blood drained from her face. “What is this…?”
“You are currently being held inside a six-legged Chinese-style wooden chest,” the same voice from before said. “You just woke up. You were unconscious for quite some time.”
The voice was vaguely familiar.
As Shiho’s eyes adjusted, she saw faint points of light all around her in the cramped space. There were holes in the chest’s timber that worms or other pests had created. When she focused on the holes, she could see outside the chest. She noticed a burning candle and a person sitting next to it. The person sat cross-legged. They were short and had silver-blond hair.
It was the boy she’d met at the bus stop.
Shiho tried to see what else was in the room. Her field of view was severely limited, but she made out a little square box with red beans piled on top, a large plate full of mochi, a carp placed in an earthenware vessel, and a plump pheasant that had yet to be plucked. Two whole daikon radishes rested on the floor with a piece of prayer rope wrapped around them. Other bundles littered the floor and furniture, but they were wrapped, so Shiho couldn’t see what was inside them. A low table with four legs held most of the offerings.
On the door behind the boy, there was a painting of a dog.
“Where is this place? What’s happening to me?”
“This is the shrine of the Dragon Marsh.”
“A shrine?”
“You were brought here as a goku to be sacrificed to the god."
“Wait. What is a goku?” Shiho asked.
“An offering to the gods. Haven’t you heard of it? A human sacrifice?”
“What?!”
“You are a living sacrifice to the mountain god.”
The shrine’s doors opened.
“It’s time,” Shiho’s uncle said.
The boy had vanished again. Shiho wasn’t sure if her uncle had seen the boy.
Shiho stared at her uncle in disbelief. He was wearing the vestments of a Shinto priest.
“Uncle Shūichi, what are you doing?”
Are you insane? Shiho thought. She screamed and tried to escape from the chest, but that was impossible. Her uncle pressed down on the chest lid, holding her in place.
“This responsibility should have fallen to your mother,” Shūichi said. He struck the lid of the chest. “But Yumiko ran away, and the village has been in dire straits ever since. You are responsible for cleaning up the mess that your mother caused. Offer yourself to the mountain god, and never return to this world again.” He pursed his lips in annoyance.
More men entered the shrine. They were dressed similarly to her uncle, and their faces were concealed by white cloth masks. Two of them approached and lifted the chest where Shiho lay confined. They carried her outside.
It was still dark outside. Shiho couldn’t see much through the holes in the chest. She noticed women in white robes and covered faces passing her by, bringing more offerings into the shrine. The men set down the chest that Shiho was in next to an unvarnished wooden altar. A low barrier wall made of thin bamboo stalks lashed together with prayer rope boxed her in. Paper streamers used to adorn sacred objects hung from the prayer rope.
Shiho looked out of every hole until she found the villagers again. They stood in an orderly line with their backs turned to the chest she was in. They were chanting something, rhythmic and repetitive.
Her uncle held a ceremonial baton that he waved through the air. He stood up straight and then bowed deeply. He sat down next to a heaping bundle of mugwort and took a sip of rice wine from a cup that had been prepared for him. Then he joined the other villagers in their chant.
Oh honored, restless spirits, show your faces.
Come out, come out!
Hear our words and copy our actions.
Oh honored, restless spirits, show your faces!
Shiho was stunned silent. Sparks from torches danced in the air. Wood crackled and pine resin burned. Her uncle and the villagers swayed in the torchlight. The eerie light tinged the villagers’ white clothes an orange-red color. Her uncle scarcely appeared human. His face was still covered; she couldn’t see his expression.
The villagers kept chanting.
Oh honored, restless spirits, show your faces.
Come out, come out!
Hear our words and copy our actions.
Oh honored, restless spirits, show your faces!
Do us this great favor, we beseech you.
There was a sound like the ringing of a bell.
The villagers stood up straighter and exchanged terrified glances.
“It’s here.”
“Go back to the village!”
“Hurry, hurry!”
Shūichi bowed to the altar while whispering to the other villagers. He moved with haste, running away toward the lake. The villagers followed him and soon disappeared from sight.
“Wait. Where are you going?!” Shiho called out.
There was no response, of course.
The torches still burned. It was a cold night and she wasn’t dressed to be outdoors. She shivered. The sound of the bell continued, tolling constantly in the distance.
Shiho pressed her eye to a hole in the chest that faced the lake, her fingers trembling. People were approaching — many of them, none of them familiar. They were walking on the lake—on the surface of the water! But that should be impossible…
As the people came closer, she noticed that they were carrying more chests. They wore white like the villagers who had fled, but they were not hiding their faces. Their clothing was identical in style. Most of the people were of similar heights, but one man dwarfed the others. He was at least three meters tall.
Shiho was terrified. She punched the lid of the chest with all her strength in an attempt to free herself and flee. The lid rattled, but it didn’t shift. She glimpsed rope in the gap between the lid and the body of the chest. The lid had only been tied down. She should be able to get out if she tried hard enough.
Desperate and in tears, Shiho struck the lid of the chest with her fists and elbows dozens of times. She couldn’t hear the bell ringing anymore. The lid of the chest was stuck fast.
And then the lid lifted away.
The first thing Shiho saw was a huge, hairy arm. Golden eyes as large as oranges peered down at her curiously. The shaggy ape looking down at her wore white like the rest of the procession she’d seen, but he was so large that Shiho couldn’t wrap her head around his existence. Monsters like this weren’t real. They couldn’t be.
“Come out.” The monstrous ape spoke in a cracked, tremulous voice like an old man’s.
Shiho screamed and twisted away, leaping from the coffin. Before she could flee, the ape seized her by the hair and dragged her backward. Shiho struggled, but that was pointless. The other members of the procession surrounded her and gave her curious looks.
There were no other monstrous apes in sight. Everyone else that Shiho saw appeared human. Some had monkey-like features and turmeric-yellow eyes like the ape who’d grabbed her, but they were not obviously monsters.
The monstrous ape thrust Shiho into a palanquin before she could say a word of protest. She was confined inside again—the door locked from the outside—but she could see out a latticed window. Her new prison was marginally more comfortable than the chest had been.
The men with the monstrous ape picked up the offerings on the altar. When they returned to the palanquin, the ape picked up a large bell and shook it vigorously.
The palanquin lurched into motion. The monstrous ape led the procession back over the lake, ringing the bell as he walked. He rang the bell in time with his footsteps, creating a steady rhythm. The procession came to a wide stone staircase, moving unhurriedly.
They descended the stairs and reached the lake shore. The monstrous ape stepped out onto the surface of the water with great familiarity and ease. The procession walked over the lake as if it were frozen solid. No one fell into the water below.
The last members of the procession crossed the lake. Then they all formed up in an orderly line to ascend a narrow mountain path. Their steps were smooth and comfortable. This was a well-trodden path.
Shiho wished she could see more. It was still night, and there was no moon. The white attire of the men in the procession caught and reflected the starlight. The path opened out and became another stone staircase. Shiho saw a red shrine gate straight ahead.
This was sacred ground—a forbidden area. Her uncle had told her that no one ever came to this place without permission.
The monstrous ape dragged Shiho out of the palanquin. “Stand up.”
Shiho obeyed. She was standing on paving stones with the shrine gate behind her. Steep rock walls rose all around her, creating a natural cave. She wore a pure white kimono that matched what her captors were wearing.
The rock walls that formed the cave were worn by erosion. The cave was dark; the only entrance or exit seemed to be the shrine gate.
The monstrous ape walked forward, gesturing for her to follow.
Shiho hesitated. A man behind her prodded her forward. She walked further into the darkness. There was no clear path at first; she almost lost her footing several times. Little by little, the ground beneath her feet leveled out. The air was cold and crisp. Water was flowing somewhere nearby; she heard it as a dull roar that muffled other sounds.
And then there was light ahead: another exit. The monstrous ape led Shiho through it. They were outside again.
Strangely, the moon was out. She hadn’t seen any moon before. Her surroundings were well-lit with pale blue illumination. Trees drenched with rain shone in the moonlight, spilling crystal-clear raindrops like crystals onto the ground. Shiho’s footsteps were muffled by fallen leaves. The moonlight was dazzling; she could see almost as well as she could in daylight.
Shiho looked around. She noticed another light source beyond the thicket. There was another moon.
Two moons? Impossible, Shiho thought.
She was right. She emerged from a clump of trees and stopped at the edge of a clear spring that reflected the moon perfectly. The spring was as large as one of the swimming pools at school. It was shaped like a crescent moon, thicker in the middle and curving thinner at the sides. The water’s surface rippled gently in the stillness.
The spring’s edges were cleared of trees and other vegetation. An enormous round boulder stood in the calm center of the spring, bathed in pure white moonlight. Shiho stood still for a few moments, entranced by the beautiful scene.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and finish the purification,” the monstrous ape said gruffly.
“Purification?” Shiho asked. “How? How do I do that?”
“Enter the spring and wash away the impurities of the mundane world.”
Shiho dropped to her knees in the spring and made vague gestures to wash herself. The water was very cold. She found a place where water bubbled up to the spring’s surface, creating ripples. The water shone the same color as the moonlight. They looked the same; it was hard to tell where the water ended and the moonlight began.
She swam deeper into the spring until the water was as high as her chest. The enormous ape and the men with him watched her from the shore. Self-consciousness made her blush. Trembling for reasons other than the cold, Shiho pretended to wash herself over her kimono.
“That should be enough,” the enormous ape growled.
Shiho came out of the water. No one handed her a towel. The wet, freezing fabric of her kimono clung to her skin, making it difficult to walk. The enormous ape grabbed Shiho’s collar and dragged her along.
They entered a different cave on the other side of the spring. Its entrance was a narrow hole in a rock wall that the enormous ape could barely fit through. This cave was brighter than the previous one, and the path was smoother. This place had more signs of habitation and frequent use.
The enormous ape stopped in front of her. There was more illumination ahead of him, warm like sunlight. Shiho took a few tentative steps forward onto a rough wooden floor. The rock walls around her changed to wooden walls. She felt more like she was in a crude house than a cave.
Mud and sand caked the floorboards. Timber beams supported the rock ceiling. Dirty rags hung from the beams.
The new illumination revealed a cradle in the back of the room. The cradle had runners like a rocking chair’s on the bottom. It rocked on its own, runners on the floor moving back and forth.
The enormous ape straightened his posture and puffed out his chest. “Mountain god, mountain god! We offer you this attendant.”
There was a sound like an answer, but Shiho didn’t hear any words. The sound wasn’t a human voice. It was hollow and forlorn like the cry of an injured animal.
The monstrous ape grabbed Shiho’s shoulder and thrust her forward. “Go. Your master is there.”
“Master?”
“Yes. The mountain god. Go.”
The ape shoved her forward so hard that she staggered and nearly fell. Was the mountain god in that cradle? She approached it fearfully.
The—infant?— inside the cradle didn’t look human. Not entirely. Shiho stifled a scream and took a step back. The creature’s limbs were long and lithe and covered with fur like a monkey’s. His face was as wrinkled as an old man’s, and the sparse hair on his head was white. His skin was yellowish and decaying off the creature’s flesh like sludge. His round eyes bugged out of his head, huge and panicked.
Was this what the offspring of a monkey and a human might look like? Whatever this creature was, it was completely revolting.
The enormous ape stood behind Shiho to make sure she couldn’t run away. “What is it?” he asked. “Do you want to go home?”
“Uh…” Shiho tilted her head, glancing back and forth between the cradle and the ape. “Yes?”
The ape considered this. “It might be permitted. We must ask.”
A strange sound came from behind her.
Shiho turned around.
The creature gripped the edge of the cradle with one arm, pulling himself up with great effort. His nails were ingrown and grotesquely long. The skin of his hands was the color of rotten vegetation. “I’ll eat you. Let me eat you,” the creature rasped.
Then the creature slipped out of the cradle and fell onto the floor. It looked up at Shiho, tiny fangs bared. Brown liquid that was neither blood nor waste dripped from his limbs. The creature’s eyes were bloodshot.
“I’ll eat you, I’ll eat you.” The creature breathed heavily, his wheeze like a death rattle.
Shiho had to escape from this place somehow. She couldn’t just let herself be eaten!
The enormous ape frowned. “If you want to go back… you can,” he said stiffly.
When Shiho ran, the ape and his companions didn’t chase her. The men had formed a line behind the ape and stood there like statues. A few men gave her unsettling grins as they let her pass.
Shiho had left the men behind before she realized that several of them had turned into monkeys at some point. She shuddered and kept running. She nearly ran into a tall, thin man in her path.
The man stepped aside just before they collided and grabbed her arm. “Wait!” he said. “You mustn’t run!”
“Let go of me!”
The man came close enough to whisper in her ear. “If you run, you’ll be killed by the monkeys,” he said softly. Then he let her go.
This man looked different from the others she’d seen in this place. He wore all black, and his shiny black hair was tied tightly at the back of his head. He was young: not in high school but not a college graduate, either. The arch of his eyebrows and the light in his violet eyes made him appear intelligent. He was as out of place here as she was, and that calmed Shiho briefly.
“Do not interfere, raven,” the enormous ape said. “All shall be as the mountain god wills.”
The young man kept his focus on Shiho. “Do as they say for now, and they won’t kill you,” he whispered.
Shiho hesitated. She had no reason to trust this man. There was no one here to trust.
“What are you two conspiring about?” the enormous ape asked sourly.
The foul stench of the ape’s breath made Shiho gag.
The man cast a surreptitious glance at the monstrous ape. Then he whispered, “Bow to the mountain god and swear to do as you are told. Unless you want to die? Hurry and go back.”
His harsh tone made Shiho flinch. She steeled herself with great internal effort and then returned to the mountain god’s chamber at a run.
The mountain god greeted her with a grimace and hurled invective at her. “What’s wrong, child? Do I frighten you? Do you think I’m ugly? Ha! You’re ugly! You loathsome mortal! May maggots gnaw your entrails!”
The mountain god’s voice was as unpleasant as the rest of his characteristics. Shiho was not permitted to speak. The mountain god yelled at her for what felt like an eternity, and she stood there and listened. She risked a few glances around the chamber and discovered that the man in black had followed her. When he caught her eye, he gestured for her to kneel.
Shiho knelt mechanically and curled her spine toward her knees. She was exhausted.
The mountain god stopped speaking, lowering his head to keep track of her. His bloodshot eyes followed her every move. He frowned at her. “What are you trying to do?”
“I… I…” Shiho’s teeth chattered. She was so scared that it was hard to breathe. She wanted to run away again. What had she done to deserve this? “I… I will do as you say.”
“Do as I say? You speak lies! You are all liars and base beasts. You do nothing but lie. I shall devour you at once!”
Shiho had no idea how she’d offended the mountain god. Before she could apologize, the mountain god roared in her face.
“I’m not lying!” Shiho cried out.
“Swear it.” The mountain god growled. “Swear that you will do as I command.”
The words fell on Shiho like a heavy weight. She nodded rapidly.
“Will you be my mother?”
“Huh?” She’d prepared herself for several unsavory commands and questions, but not that one. “Your… mother?”
The man in black stepped forward, away from the wooden wall. “That’s why you were brought here, miss,” he said quietly. “You’re here to become the mountain god’s mother. It is an honorable and sacred duty.” He spoke formally, like a character in an ancient play. “You should accept your role with all due reverence. Swear that you will raise the mountain god with great respect and care.”
Shiho could hardly believe her ears. She knew next to nothing about child-rearing, and besides, the mountain god wasn’t a child, but some kind of monster. She could never swear to do such a thing.
“Just as I thought, you are a liar!”
The mountain god was yelling at her again. Shiho flinched.
The young man mouthed, Hurry.
Shiho nodded at him. “Very well. I shall do as you say, honored mountain god. I swear it.”
“You swear to become my mother?”
“I do.”
The mountain god and the monkeys in the chamber visibly relaxed. The enormous ape snorted, seeming bored or disappointed.
The mountain god started yelling again almost immediately.
“Liar, liar! Just you wait. I’ll devour you whole! I don’t want to look at any lying faces!”
“Let’s go. It’s all right now,” the young man said. He offered Shiho his arm.
Shiho leaned on the young man in a daze. He guided her out of the wooden chamber into the hall. No monkeys followed them. As they turned a corner, another man in black robes appeared from the shadows. He slipped behind Shiho and her escort, guarding them from the rear.
“Are you injured?” the newcomer asked the man in black.
“I’m fine,” the man in black answered.
“What’s going on?” Shiho asked. “Why am I here? Where are we?”
The man in black frowned slightly. “This is a bizarre situation for you, I’m sure. It must be difficult to believe what’s happening, right? I’ll try to explain as best I can. We’re in the sacred realm of the mountain god. You just swore to serve the mountain god and be his mother.”
“That—that thing is the mountain god? No way! It’s a monster!”
The young man put a finger to his lips. “Keep your voice down. The walls have ears around here. You’re not entirely wrong. The creature you saw should be the mountain god. He’s… defective, I guess you could say. He’s not the mountain god yet. He needs to grow into his role, and for that, he needs guidance. You cannot make him angry. He is powerful—more powerful than any human.”
“More powerful than you? You’re human, right?”
“Do I look human?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.
Shiho frowned at him. She didn’t need any more troubling revelations today.
“I’m Nazukihiko,” the man said. “I’m a true Golden Raven and the leader of the Yatagarasu. I serve the mountain god, just as you will. Who are you, miss?”
Nazukihiko stopped walking as he finished speaking. Shiho noticed that he’d led her into a small, undecorated stone room without windows. There was a crude screen that separated the room into two halves and a dark lump that might have been a blanket pile. There was a straw mat underneath the blankets.
“This is where you’ll sleep,” Nazukihiko said. “There’s food, too. You won’t starve. You need to raise the mountain god until he becomes…. um… complete, I think. No longer defective. You don’t need to feed him, change his diapers, or do anything you’d have to do for a normal child. The mountain god isn’t human. Do what you’re told. When you’re summoned, go. When you’re dismissed, leave. Don’t make the mountain god angry. If you do, he’ll kill you.”
Shiho blinked. Was any of this real? How could it be?
Nazukihiko stood before her, unperturbed. “The mountain god needs a new body every few decades,” he explained. “To do that, a woman must give birth to a new vessel for the god. That woman then raises the mountain god as their son. Are you following me so far?” he asked.
“No,” Shiho said. “No, this doesn’t make any sense. Why is this happening to me?”
“Your village made a promise to the mountain god a long time ago,” Nazukihiko said. “The mountain god protects your village, but once a generation, he requires the village to sacrifice a girl so that he can be reborn into a new body.”
“But I’m not from the village! I wasn’t born there!”
“That doesn’t matter. They’re not required to sacrifice a villager — just a girl. I believe the mother of the mountain god you saw was also not from the village.”
“The last mother? So she was here and gave birth to that monster? Where is she now?”
“She’s not here anymore.”
“Why not? Where is she?”
“The mountain god devoured her.”
Shiho shuddered.
“A little over a year ago, your predecessor was here,” Nazukihiko said. “She gave birth to the new mountain god. She tried to raise him, but the task was too difficult. She ran away. The mountain god chased after her and devoured her. Just after that, I came here to serve the mountain god. He’s growing by the day, but he’s only changing for the worse. It’s been a year since he was reborn. He should be growing faster, and he should be healthier, but he’s not. As things are, he’ll remain unstable. He doesn’t need food or water, but he needs a mother or he won’t grow.”
“And what happens if he doesn’t grow?”
“He dies and is never reborn,” Nazukihiko said grimly. “That’s why you were brought here to raise him.”
“No. I can’t do that. Please, just get me out of here!”
“I understand why you’re upset, but none of this is actually the mountain god’s fault. If you’re going to blame anyone, then blame the girl who ran off and left you to pick up the pieces.”
Nazukihiko always spoke politely and in a detached sort of way. His lack of emotion made Shiho want to punch him and scream in his face just to get a reaction.
“You’re human,” Shiho said, “right? So you understand that forcing me to do this is wrong.”
He shook his head. “I told you: I’m a true Golden Raven and the leader of the Yatagarasu. I have no alliances with humans. I serve the mountain god.”
Shiho narrowed her eyes. Nazukihiko looked human. He talked like a human. He barely had an accent; he could be any college kid from a Japanese city. If he wasn’t human, it was a good act.
Nazukihiko gave her a slight smile. “Do you not believe me? Or not understand me? I can’t tell.”
“How could I believe you? You’re standing right in front of me, talking to me in a human language.”
Nazukihiko exchanged glances with the other black-robed man. Then he nodded. “Very well. Words will not suffice as an explanation. I’ll show you.” He gestured to his companion, a vague command to follow. “Let’s go.”
***
They left the rocky cavern that looked like a prison behind. The tunnels they walked through were tall and wide. Shiho tried to keep track of all the turns that Nazukihiko made, but she was lost after a half-dozen changes in direction.
The journey through the tunnels ended in a vast hall covered in wisteria vines. The space was about as large as Shiho’s elementary school gymnasium. The vines grew absolutely everywhere on the walls and ceiling. A gigantic gate took up most of one wall. Shiho had never seen such a large gate in her entire life.
“This is called the Forbidden Gate. Beyond this lies Yamauchi, where the Yatagarasu dwell. We, too, received a summons to serve within the mountain god’s realm. As you’ve no doubt noticed, the realm is in a sorry state thanks to that woman who ran off and previous unfaithful attendants. You could say that it’s barely functional. The mountain god’s summons are meant to change that.”
Nazukihiko opened the Forbidden Gate. On the other side was another huge hall cut into the mountain rock. Shiho saw no sky or sun, only a hushed, dark space. Stone coffins full of water were spread across the floor of that hall, all evenly spaced apart. The water flowed into grooves on the floor.
“You asked me to help you escape, miss, but really… there is no escape,” he said sadly. He gestured for her to come forward. They left the hall with the coffins and entered another hallway. That hallway led to others that were lower and narrower.
Nazukihiko led Shiho into an interior room and stopped walking. He waved a hand, and the people in the room lined up along one wall. The sliding door ahead of them opened, revealing the morning sun and the jagged edge of a mountain cliff.
Shiho expected to see the Dragon Marsh below her, but the landscape was completely alien. A large lake stretched to the horizon. Tall mountains jutted into the sky. Waterfalls sprayed from mountainsides. Shiho had never seen anything like this aside from stylized scenes in ancient Chinese paintings. Wherever she was, she was no longer in the Dragon Marsh.
Was Yamauchi another place, or another world?
That question was settled by the sky. In the middle distance, circling around buildings constructed into the mountains in an overhanging style, there were dark shadows. She squinted and saw—what were they? Ravens? Crows?
The shadow of one of the birds passed over Shiho. She looked up and found a raven that was at least as tall as she was—and it had three legs! This wasn’t a person using a hang glider, but a raven the size of a person! Some of the ravens she saw had people flying on their backs, which was even more confusing. She saw saddles on ravens. She rubbed her eyes.
Nazukihiko nodded to the other black-robed man who’d accompanied him. The man took a running start and then jumped, transforming into a giant three-legged raven in midair. The raven cawed and then flew upwards, buffeted by the wind.
Shiho gasped. If the man hadn’t been able to transform like that, then his leap off the mountainside would have been suicide.
“Do you understand now?” Nazukihiko asked. “We’re not human. We’re Yatagarasu—three-legged ravens.” He faced Shiho squarely. “Even if I agreed to help you escape, I could not return you to your own world. Yamauchi is the only world you can run to, and you are only human, not Yatagarasu like the rest of my people. You won’t be able to return to your own world without the mountain god’s permission.”
“That can’t be…”
“If you understand, then let’s return. You have a mountain god to raise.” He urged Shiho to turn around.
Shiho was stunned speechless. These raven-people weren’t human, but Nazukihiko looked and acted human. She dropped to her knees, confused and terrified. “If… if I do it… what will happen to me? Do you know? The mountain god said he was going to devour me, just like that other woman.”
“If you succeed and the mountain god becomes stable and healthy, he might show you compassion and send you back to your world.”
Nazukihiko’s voice was as regular as a metronome and as uninflected. He reasoned that the mountain god might reward her for her efforts, but he didn’t think that would truly happen.
“Has that ever happened before?” Shiho asked.
“I don’t know, but I know that the mountain god has been raised well before. Follow the example of the illustrious women who came before you and do your very best. That is all anyone can ask of you. You already know that the mountain god eats humans. So do the monkeys, including their leader, Ōzaru. The monkeys want you to run off so that they have permission to eat you.
“Yatagarasu don’t eat humans,” Nazukihiko added. “I don’t wish to harm you in any way. I am encouraging you to be sensible. Aside from myself, only the leader of the Kuisaru and the mountain god speak your language in the mountain god’s realm. I am permitted only a single companion. If we can help you, we will.”
Nazukihiko wasn’t an enemy, but it was hard to think of him as an ally.
“I can’t stay here. Please help me escape,” Shiho said.
“I cannot,” Nazukihiko said. “We all have our roles to play. You must play yours, and I mine.”
“Then at least let me contact my grandmother! I didn’t tell her where I was going; she’ll be worried sick about me.”
“I can’t do that, either,” Nazukihiko said. “Forgive me. The way to your world is closed.”
“Someone, anyone, help me!” Shiho called out. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
No one answered her desperate plea. Ravens flew all around the cliff, ignoring Shiho. Nazukihiko looked at her with a vaguely pitying expression, but he didn’t say another word.
Translator's Notes
Golden Week is a holiday period in Japan from 29 April to 5 May, containing multiple public holidays. One of Japan’s largest holiday periods, Golden Week often sees a nationwide surge in vacation travel. Four days of the week are officially designated as public holidays, with workers often opting to take the full week off.
The word that the boy uses here is one that Shiho’s relatives have also used, though sparingly: goku. This word is presented in katakana, without kanji to assign it a specific meaning. A common meaning of goku in Japanese is prison. In the sixth book, The Raven’s Flourishing, the kanji given to the word goku mean “honored companion.”
The spring is explicitly identified as mitarashi no ike, a font of purifying water placed at the entrance of a shrine.
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