Chapter 1

It happened one summer night when I was ten years old. I was visiting my grandmother’s house in Nagano. Her house was in a mountain village far from the train station. My family visited every year during the summer and winter holidays. My other relatives would visit around the same time, and I really enjoyed playing with my cousins, who I rarely got to see. But that year, I caught a terrible summer cold. Despite already feeling a bit ill, I rather unwisely played in a stream with my cousins and got soaking wet. I came down with a high fever that lasted for days, and I couldn’t even get out of bed. When the day of the festival—which was held at the local shrine—arrived, my fever still hadn’t subsided. I had been looking forward to that festival more than anything. The shrine itself was on top of the mountain and could only be reached by climbing a long, long flight of stairs, but the festival was held at the mountain’s base. In the square beneath the mountain, under the bright-red glow of the countless round, red paper lanterns hung among the many vendors’ stalls, everyone would join in the festival dance around the tall wooden stage. I had been saving up for that day for weeks. I was going to go to the festival. I had to. But no matter how many times I insisted, no one let me go. Frustrated and sad, I cried into my futon, and when one of my cousins finally came home from the festival and hesitantly presented me with a Super Sentai mask, saying, “Here’s a souvenir. One of the stalls was selling them,” I cried again. Before I knew it, I had cried myself to sleep. I was awoken by the thundering boom of festival drums. I got up in a hurry, expecting to be dizzy with fever, but found I felt totally fine. I thought if I was feeling better, it would be okay to go out. Something seemed off, however. The house was pitch-black, and everyone appeared to be asleep. A glance at the clock revealed it was past midnight. There was no way the festival would still be going on at that hour. But I could clearly hear the thundering of the drums. Boom, boom, buh-boom. That echoing sound was unmistakable. It was the sound of the large drum being beaten on top of the stage. The festival was definitely still happening. Once I realized that, I couldn’t help myself. Still in my nightclothes, I crept quietly out of my grandmother’s house. In my naive young mind, the Sentai mask at my bedside would act as a disguise, so I put it on as I departed. I would definitely have been scolded for going outside that late if I had been discovered. I ran as fast as I could down the road in the dead of night toward the sound of the drums. When I arrived at the festival site, there were people everywhere. Adults, children. People in light summer yukata and heavier kimonos, people in Western clothes. The crowd that surrounded the wooden stage was two to three people deep, and they were all dancing. The festival wasn’t over, after all. I noted with disappointment that the stalls had all closed up already, but I was happy enough just to be able to join in the dancing for a little while. Bravely adjusting the mask on my face, I stepped into the square. But something felt wrong. The lanterns—the paper lanterns hung around the festival site were blue. All of them. Festival lanterns were always red—everyone knew that, and yet… The innumerable strings of blue lanterns looked just like will-o’-the-wisps floating in the night. They emitted a pale, cold light. I had never seen paper lanterns like this before. And why couldn’t I hear anything except the thundering of the drums? It was a festival. Normally, the festival music would be blaring loudly from the speakers installed in the square. But that night, the speakers were silent. Two adults stood atop the wooden stage, devotedly beating the drums, and that was all. Boom, boom, buh-boom. There was something else—something even stranger. I could not hear even a single voice… …despite being among that many people. I looked closely and saw that everyone, adults and children alike, was wearing a mask. Fire-breathing jester masks, round-faced woman masks, masks that resembled the face of an old man. They all danced in sync around the stage, silently swaying to the thundering of the drums. Boom, boom, buh-boom. I looked up at the only source of sound—the resounding thundering of the drums that shook the stage down to its base. The blue will-o’-the-wisp lanterns. The masked people silently circling the stage. It was all so terribly unreal—like a scene from another world. Maybe I was dreaming. That thought drifted dimly into my mind when it happened. Suddenly, someone grabbed my shoulder. I whirled around in surprise to see a man in a fire-breathing jester mask. “…What are you doing here?” The man spoke in a hushed voice that filled me with confusion. That voice was familiar. It sounded like my grandfather. Why would my grandfather be there? “Why did you come here? You shouldn’t be here… Hey, don’t take off your mask. No matter what.” I had started to remove my mask to get a better look at who I was talking to, but he stopped me. My grandfather crouched and looked into my eyes through the holes in his mask. He said, “Get out of here right now. Don’t let anyone see—” My grandfather suddenly turned to look over his shoulder at the other people. Some of the swaying, trembling dancers were looking at us. Round-faced woman masks, old lady masks, cat masks. With their arms swaying and feet stomping to the thundering of the drums, they had craned their necks to an unnatural degree to stare right at my grandfather and me. “It’s too late. They noticed you,” my grandfather said. What did he mean by too late? Who in the world were the dancing people? I had so many questions, but for some reason I was too afraid to voice them. “…You have to pay the price. Come on.” My grandfather’s hand clamped onto my arm with an iron grip. He led me like that to the corner of the square. I thought perhaps he would let me escape at that point, but I was wrong. There was a single stall in the spot I was taken to. I had thought all the stalls were closed, but that one alone seemed to be open. A man stood inside, wearing a black demon mask and a traditional coat, not saying a word. Behind the stall, the mountain with the shrine at its peak rose up. Its looming shadow spread down from the sky, and it felt like it was staring at me. Looking up, I saw that the blue lanterns had also been hung along the stairs leading to the shrine. Blue dots of light shone here and there all the way to the top of the mountain. It looked like a path meant to welcome something that wasn’t human. My grandfather whispered into my ear. “Choose just one. You don’t need to pay.” On top of the stall’s counter were sweets, the kind usually sold at festivals. A candied apple, a candied plum, and an amber-colored lollipop. Only one of each. My grandfather pointed at the apple. “If you choose that one, you won’t be able to walk.” After he told me that, I couldn’t help but view the red apple sitting in front of me as though it were poisoned. My grandfather pointed at the candied plum. “If you choose that one, you’ll lose your words.” What did that mean? Would it burn my throat? Would I lose my tongue? Whatever the case, I was petrified beyond words. Finally, my grandfather pointed at the lollipop. “If you choose that one, you—” What? What could it be? What horrible thing would happen to me? My grandfather spoke into my ear as I stood, stiff. “You will—” When I heard the answer, I thought, That’s much better than the other two options. At the time, I didn’t truly understand the meaning of the words he’d uttered. They were words I had read in books, but I didn’t know what they meant in reality. Therefore, without hesitation, I chose the amber lollipop. I was instructed to eat it then and there, and I obediently followed suit. I will never forget the sweet flavor that melted over my tongue. By chance… If I were able to return to that night… I wonder, if I were faced with that same choice, which one would I pick? No matter how often I try, I can’t come up with an answer. But I cannot help but think that I made the wrong choice that night.