Chapter 5

As November was coming to an end, winter was rapidly approaching. Christmas music filled the city streets, the greenery lining the roads was decked out in twinkling lights, and no matter where one looked, a Christmas tree was in sight. The university co-op was no exception; students were welcomed at the entrance by artificial fir trees draped with gold tinsel and cotton snow. Despite the cold, winter was an idyllic, splendid time of year. Nevertheless, in Folklore Studies II, Takatsuki was once again telling a decidedly non-idyllic ghost story. The day’s theme was “human-faced dogs.” “Human-faced dogs became a hot topic all over Japan starting in 1989 and lasting into the early nineties. Mass media played a big role in the spread. Various media outlets enthusiastically ran with stories about human-faced dogs at the time. The rumors and urban legends that had once been disseminated through word of mouth saw explosive rises in popularity through television and magazines and the like. Then, as soon as the media stopped reporting on a story, those legends and rumors would quietly die out. It’s quite a sad consequence of no longer being talked about—that those stories gradually fade from people’s memories and ultimately disappear.” Even if the topic wasn’t idyllic, to Takatsuki at least, stories like this were a thing of beauty. His childlike eyes shone as he spoke, undoubtedly having a wonderful time. “However, what’s interesting about the human-faced dogs legend is that immediately following its heyday, there was a wave of ‘human-faced’ stories. This is because the media was looking for other things with humanlike faces to report on following the popularity of the dogs. The most famous among these was the ‘human-faced fish,’ which was a koi fish living in a pond at Zenpoji Temple in Yamagata prefecture. The entertainment magazine Friday ran a story about the fish in 1990 which garnered a bunch of attention right away, causing the fish to overtake human-faced dogs as the trendy topic at the time. There’s a picture of it on Handout 5.” An image of the human-faced fish was printed on the handout Takatsuki had indicated. It was probably just a koi fish, but it certainly did seem to have human facial features. The slightly protruding forehead above the fish’s eyes truly resembled a man’s chiseled face. “Unlike human-faced dogs, who were said to have dog bodies with human faces attached, this fish simply has markings which bring to mind human features. Human beings are naturally inclined to recognize things that look like faces, and we can even recognize something inherently faceless as having a face if its features are arranged in a certain way. If you draw three circles in an inverted triangle formation, it looks like a human face. We call this the simulacra phenomenon in Japan. A related, more general term is ‘pareidolia,’ our tendency to convert information we see and hear into patterns that are familiar to us and recognize those patterns in places we know they don’t exist. For example, seeing a human face in a stain on a wall, or the shape of a rabbit making mochi on the surface of the moon. They’re optical illusions, not real. And yet—the human-faced fish caused a huge craze. People came from all over the country to see it, and they even sold buns that looked like the fish. The pond the fish lives in is also home to a legend about a dragon king and his queen, so there were also those who prayed to the human-faced fish as if it were the dragon god’s blessing.” It was an odd story to think about. The koi fish must have been in the pond long before the media picked up its story. But as soon as the media brought attention to it, people traveled from all over Japan and went home satisfied with having simply prayed to a fish. “By the time the human-faced fish craze died down, there was a human-faced tree from Chiba prefecture in the news. A newspaper reported that the cut end of a zelkova tree growing in a park resembled a human face, and the story was then picked up by TV stations. Of course, as soon as that happened, many people came to see the tree for themselves. It started being said that you would be blessed if you touched the tree, and people even left offerings around it. They treated it the same way they would a divine spirit, even though it was just a simple tree. You may think that’s strange, but this is actually an extremely Japanese phenomenon. After all, deities suddenly coming into vogue—what we call hayarigami—is a long-standing tradition in our country.” Takatsuki wrote ‘hayarigami’ on the chalkboard. “Hayarigami are folk deities that appear suddenly at some point, enjoy a brief period of wild popularity, and ultimately fade rapidly into oblivion. Unlike the ‘God’ talked about in major religions, these deities can be ‘created’ by anyone, and they don’t have to be Shinto gods or Buddhas. For example, in the seventh century, some people worshipped a ‘Tokoyo no Kami’ which was actually just a caterpillar. On Handout 6 you’ll see an excerpt from the twenty-fourth volume of the Nihon shoki that reads: ‘A man from the area around the Fuji River in the eastern country, Ohofube no Oho, suggested that the villagers worship a worm, telling them, This is the Tokoyo no Kami. Those who pray to it shall receive wealth and longevity.’ Perhaps due to the cooperation of the local shrine servants, many people believed him and even laid down their fortunes to worship the caterpillar. It became a big enough social phenomenon that it was consequently recorded in the Nihon shoki.” Facing the blackboard, Takatsuki scrawled “Tokoyo no Kami” and then, underneath that, an undefinable shape that was probably supposed to be a caterpillar. Though if someone told Naoya it was a drawing of a lump of fried dough, he would have believed them. Takatsuki had been blessed with several gifts, but artistic talent was absolutely not one of them. “Hayarigami were all the rage in the Edo period. A large number of them were created and abandoned in that time. An unremarkable Buddha statue at a secondhand store would be worshipped as a magical object, the ornamental tops of bridge handrails would be prayed to as a cure for headaches and tooth pain. The reason anyone can make up deities as they like in this way is probably because Japan is a polytheistic country. It wouldn’t be possible in a monotheistic culture. It’s part of our national character that we believe gods dwell in all sorts of things, and so new gods can also pop up and disappear here and there. The manner in which their stories spread is very similar to how urban legends become popular today.” In other words, Naoya thought, people believe what they want to believe. And to Japanese people, who weren’t overly tied to a specific religion, the range of things that could be worshipped was quite vast. They held Halloween parties in the fall, decorated Christmas trees in winter, prayed at Shinto shrines in the New Year, and visited Buddhist temples and graves during the Festival of the Dead. Certainly, if it was said they could receive a blessing, they might even pray to an insect or a bridge railing. The bell signaled the end of class. Standing up, Naoya put his arms through the coat he had set aside with his bag during the lecture. Before class that day, he had received a message from Takatsuki that said, “Come to my office after the lecture. It’s about work.” In a country where caterpillars could become gods, there may also be mysteries born here and there that called for the help of a university professor. As soon as Naoya arrived at Takatsuki’s office, he was shown an email from a client. Looking at the request for help on the laptop display, he cocked his head to the side. “What is the ‘Miracle Girl of Okutama’?” “I don’t know much about it, either,” Takatsuki replied. “It seems the story is only just starting to spread.” The request came from a male office worker living in Tokyo. He wrote that his parents had recently gotten caught up in something like a religious cult and wondered if Takatsuki would investigate it. The cult-like group was centered around someone called the “Miracle Girl of Okutama.” “Is this ‘Miracle Girl’ like that fortune teller, Sumiko Kurihara? That sort of thing?” “That doesn’t seem to be the case. I did a little research and got quite a few results online.” Takatsuki navigated to a search results page on the laptop, showing it to Naoya. A list of hits matching his search terms was pulled up. Clicking on one of the results, Takatsuki brought up what appeared to be someone’s personal blog. Here’s a story I heard today. Do you know about the ‘Miracle Girl of Okutama’? They say she’s the only survivor of a fatal bus crash. Even though there should have been no way for anyone to survive the accident, she somehow made it out unharmed. It’s truly a miracle. She must have been protected by the gods! Lately, there’s been a surge of people visiting the girl to share in her blessing. An acquaintance of mine went and received a protection charm to put on his clothes. Later, he said he fell down the stairs at the train station, all the way from the top to the bottom, and didn’t get hurt. Could the girl’s blessing be real? Maybe I’ll go visit the Miracle Girl next! There were other articles and Twitter posts with largely similar contents. There were even websites that listed the Miracle Girl’s address and showed a map of how to get there. However, the Miracle Girl didn’t seem to have a website or account of her own—all Naoya could see were accounts from people who had heard about her and those who had actually gone to visit. There also didn’t appear to be any sites that had posted the girl’s name or pictures of her face, as one would expect, but there were pages that referenced the bus crash she was said to be involved in. According to the articles, the crash had taken place in May. A bus carrying elementary schoolers on a field trip to Okutama had overturned and plunged into Lake Okutama. A group of fourth graders, their homeroom teacher, and the bus driver had been on board. There had been three buses in total, each one carrying a single class. Only one of the buses overturned. The cause was determined to be the driver having a sudden heart attack. Everyone on the bus, other than the girl, had died. Due to the sheer tragedy of it, the accident had been all over the media, and even Naoya remembered hearing about it. “Huh? It says the elementary school was in Suginami ward. But the Miracle Girl’s address is in Okutama? I wonder why.” “If you look at older articles you see an address in Suginami, so I think she must have moved recently,” Takatsuki said, fiddling with his laptop. Naoya felt the case was of a slightly different kind than the usual requests. A girl being the lone, unharmed survivor of what should have been a decidedly fatal bus crash certainly was mysterious. But it couldn’t be called a paranormal phenomenon, exactly. He didn’t expect Takatsuki would have much interest in it. Seemingly as evidence of that, rather than diving right into the story with his eyes agleam, the way he would have with something that excited him, Takatsuki was strangely calm. On the other hand, as he scanned the article about the girl, his gaze was dreadfully serious, like something was concerning to him. Something’s up, Naoya thought, turning to Takatsuki. “So, Professor, are you going to take the case?” “Yeah, I think I’ll at least go and hear his story. What’s your schedule like, Fukamachi?” “I’m pretty open. As long as it’s not during my compulsory courses.” “Right. Then I’ll contact the client,” Takatsuki said, smiling. “Once we’ve settled on a date, time, and place, I’ll let you know.” Takatsuki’s smile looked as cheerful as ever, but for some reason Naoya couldn’t quite put his finger on, he felt weirdly uneasy from that point onward. One evening several days later, they met with the client at a family restaurant in the neighborhood of Ogikubo. He was a short man who appeared to be in his forties named Yukiya Kawakami. He was dressed like a typical office worker headed home from the job, and the business card he handed over had the name of a well-known food company on it. When Kawakami arrived, slightly late, he greeted Takatsuki with a look of apology that showed keenly on his pleasant, bespectacled face. “Ah, um, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. Work has been so busy… Also, it wasn’t on your website, so how much is the consultation fee…?” “There isn’t one.” He looked confused by Takatsuki’s reply. “B-but I’m taking up some of your precious time… For instance, consulting with a lawyer costs quite a lot…” “This is simply one of the necessary parts of doing fieldwork for my research, so please don’t worry about it. Instead, I may use the contents of your consultation as an example in a research paper or something along those lines. Of course, if I do, you can be assured that all identifying information will be kept confidential.” Takatsuki’s gentle statement made Kawakami look even more apologetic. He ordered nothing but a soft drink from the self-service bar, then started telling his story in earnest. “Um, as I wrote in my email, my parents, they got roped into something that’s sort of like a religion… Except it also doesn’t quite seem like a religion, so I’m a little worried. That’s why I contacted you…” According to Kawakami, his parents had always liked making offerings to deities. Whenever they came across a temple or a shrine along the road, they would pay a visit. They were always eager to buy spiritual charms. They didn’t care about who the deity was or what sect it belonged to. It seemed like they just wanted to feel as though they were benefiting in some way from things that might offer some form of divine protection. Around the beginning of September, his parents heard about the Miracle Girl from someone in their neighborhood. At the time, the girl was still living in Suginami ward, and the parents’ neighbor had invited them along to go see her, saying, “It’s nearby, so why don’t you join me.” “My parents had heard about the bus accident, since it was all over the news. And for that girl to be uninjured, like she really was protected by the gods—they thought it was a tremendous miracle. They wanted to receive some of her blessing, so they went to visit her like the neighbor had said.” The girl had lived in a small, first-floor apartment at that time. But when Kawakami’s parents visited, there was a surprisingly long line to get in. Most of the people in the queue were carrying fruits or alcohol or some such thing. His parents asked why that was, and their neighbor told them, “I think they’re gifts for the little girl.” The neighbor herself was holding a box of traditional Japanese sweets, and Kawakami’s parents were apparently annoyed that they weren’t told in advance to bring something. They rushed to a nearby store to buy a box of baked goods and made themselves look presentable. After a long wait in line, it was finally their turn to meet the girl. The apartment was extremely ordinary, even a bit lacking. The rooms were old and cramped and overflowing with a sense of being lived in. And yet, sitting quietly in the midst of it all was a little girl wearing a knowing expression not at all befitting a child her age. Kawakami’s parents said that when her lightly wandering gaze fell on them, it felt in some way divine, and they couldn’t help but put their hands together in prayer. “Then, a few days later, my father had to take the train for an errand. The bus he always took to the station tended to run late, but for some reason the route went smoothly that day, and he was able to catch an earlier train than planned. Then it seems the train he was originally meant to be on was involved in a fatal accident. When my father heard about it later, he was totally convinced the Miracle Girl had protected him… I’m really at a loss here.” “It’s common for people to look to gods and Buddhas and curses as the cause of the blessings or misfortunes that happen around them. Like if someone were to blame losing their wallet on a black cat crossing their path, even though there might not be a direct link between what happened and what caused it, we tend to automatically connect them in our minds. Your parents’ way of thinking is not especially strange.” Takatsuki smiled as he spoke. But Kawakami shook his head, looking troubled. “I mean, I understand that everyone thinks that way to a certain extent. But my parents’ level of conviction is too much. Ever since then, they go to visit that girl and bring her a present about once every two weeks. Apparently, they’re even giving her money. ‘If we’re able to support her livelihood,’ they said. Isn’t that basically just almsgiving? They still visit her, even after she moved to Okutama… These days every other thing they say is about ‘Mana-sama.’ I’m worried they’ve been brainwashed somehow.” “Mana-sama? Is that the girl’s name?” “Ah, yes. Her real name is Mana Kariya. And the protection charm she gave them, it’s—how do I put this? It’s deeply unsettling.” Kawakami took out his phone as he spoke. He tapped the screen a few times, then held it out for Takatsuki and Naoya to see. They both leaned forward to peer at the photo on the display. “This picture is currently hanging in my parents’ household altar. They got it from Mana-sama after asking her for a charm… They would have gotten upset with me if I took it out of the house, so I took a picture.” The photo showed what looked like a drawing made on drafting paper. The colors weren’t very saturated, as if it was drawn with colored pencils or something similar. Although, there were signs of overlapping lines in some areas, like those spots had been vigorously traced over again and again. At first, Naoya wasn’t sure what the picture was supposed to be. After a little while, though, he realized it was a drawing of an overturned bus. There were people inside it. They were all upside down, with their hair standing on end, and their round, open eyes and mouths all turned toward the viewer. Next to the overturned bus was a girl in a yellow hat, a white blouse, and a red skirt. Her shoes, for some reason, were different colors: The right was white and the left, red. Standing alongside the bus, the girl also stared out at the viewer with big, round eyes. It was most likely a drawing of the accident. Naoya thought it was pretty ominous, and it was hard to believe Kawakami’s parents had it adorning their altar. “Um, even if they’re just a weird religious group, would you please look into it? I mean, that happens all the time, right? You hear about people signing up for a yoga class or something, but it turns out it’s actually a religious gathering. Even if that’s all it is, I just need to know. Please!” Kawakami bowed his head to Takatsuki. The story Kawakami had just told had been entirely truthful. Naoya didn’t hear even a single distortion in his voice. It was clear from his expression that he was quite troubled about the matter. Naoya glanced at Takatsuki. This truly wasn’t the kind of story that would have had him jumping for joy. What the professor was searching for wasn’t miracles; it was monsters. But Takatsuki was once again smiling in Kawakami’s direction. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll find out as much as I can.” And with that, he accepted the job. That weekend, Takatsuki and Naoya decided to make inquires in the area around the Miracle Girl’s former apartment in Suginami ward. They started by going to the apartment building itself, but just as Kawakami had said, it was quite small, old, and run-down. It really didn’t look like somewhere a religious group’s guru would live. Apparently, the unit where the girl had lived was currently unoccupied. Next, as usual, Takatsuki walked around the neighborhood to talk to people. As always, all the stay-at-home moms in the area were happy to stop and speak to Takatsuki, with his refined and handsome features and gentlemanly demeanor. Every time Naoya got to witness the professor’s aptitude at gathering information, he thought the man would be an excellent private investigator or commercial researcher. His university title might lend him a certain amount of trustworthiness, but even so, it was incredible how much he managed to avoid arousing any suspicion in the people he approached. “Oh, that accident… It was dreadful, wasn’t it? An entire class. I was so shocked.” A woman who said she lived nearby shook her head sadly as she spoke to them. Another woman with her also shook her said, saying, “My child goes to that school, too… They held a big farewell ceremony for the children who passed away, but I couldn’t bear to watch it. Those poor families. I can’t imagine losing my child that way. It’s so awful…” The area they were in was the school district of the elementary school affected by the accident. The local residents were quite concerned with the incident, along with being particularly interested in the girl. “Did the girl who survived participate in the farewell ceremony?” Takatsuki asked. “No, I don’t think so. If I recall correctly, she was in the hospital for a while after the accident due to shock. I mean, even without physical injuries, she must have needed mental and emotional care. I think that lasted for about two weeks, and then she went back home to that apartment with her mother.” “That’s right. And then it was a little while after that, right? That mass of visitors.” The two women looked at one another, nodding. According to them, when it started, there hadn’t been enough people to form a line. There were just enough people going to and coming from the apartment that it was noticeable, and at first, they assumed the visitors were relatives and friends stopping in to check on the family. But before long, the number of visitors increased to the point that they started to queue up, each one of them carrying some kind of souvenir, no less. “At the busiest point the line even went all the way outside the apartment complex. We were a little nervous, thinking they had formed some kind of cult.” “So the two of you didn’t pay her a visit?” The women gave strained smiles at Takatsuki’s question. “No, well… We were already acquainted with her, you see. Suddenly treating her like some kind of living god would be…” “I certainly do think it’s a miracle that she survived, but going to pray to her or something is a bit much.” “Then were you well acquainted with that household before?” Takatsuki asked. The women exchanged glances again. “Not really. They didn’t interact much with the neighborhood.” “It’s true. The girl’s mother is unmarried, and she was always busy with part-time work. I don’t think they had very much money. Mana was always wearing the same clothes. And she was always by herself. I almost never saw her playing with kids her age… If anything, it seemed like she was being bullied, didn’t it?” “Yes, I even saw her coming home from school soaking wet and crying once! I asked her what happened and of course she just mumbled that she fell into a pond.” “Oh dear, doesn’t that mean she was probably pushed in?” Though their faces were frowning, the two women’s eyes were practically glittering. The atmosphere around them was one of neighbors gleefully sharing gossip. Even though their children went to the same school, the accident had happened to children in a different grade, so despite their concern, they probably had a strong sense that, ultimately, this was someone else’s problem. Another housewife in the neighborhood told them that Mana didn’t attend school much after the accident. “My child is in the same grade as Mana. Because every other child in her class was gone, they moved Mana to the same class my child is in. But… How do I put it? It seems neither the teacher nor the students knew how to treat her. It’s like they felt they were dealing with an abscess… Also, Mana seems to have stopped talking almost entirely since the accident. I think she went to school once, maybe twice, and then didn’t show up again. And then she and her mother moved in around the middle of October.” They even managed to find several people who had actually gone to pay a visit to the girl. One of them, a white-haired man who had retired the year before, said he lived in a different neighborhood than the girl’s apartment. He liked to take walks and often ended up in the area. When he saw the lines forming at her building, his interest was piqued. “Ah, yes, it seemed like it was all anyone was talking about, and since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I would go take a peek… Well, I thought it might be some strange form of solicitation, at first. But it wasn’t like that at all. The girl was just sitting in a small, ordinary room, and her mother served tea and snacks, and we just talked a little. The girl didn’t say a word, she just sort of stared blankly into the distance… Her mother very kindly asked me, ‘What’s troubling you?’ We made small talk for a while, and that was it. She didn’t even ask me to buy a charm or anything, so it was a bit anticlimactic… A blessing? No, I didn’t get anything like that. I mean, I showed up empty-handed, after all.” Once they were finished gathering information, they returned to the girl’s former apartment complex and stood outside. “Hmmm, it doesn’t feel like a religious group, in any case. They aren’t recruiting people, they don’t ask for donations, they don’t record their visitors’ names and addresses.” “If anything, it seems like people started gathering on their own through word of mouth.” Everyone they spoke to who had actually visited the girl said something like, “A line was forming for some reason, so I got in it just to see,” or, “I went because everyone was talking about it.” There were even people among her visitors who only learned that she was the survivor of the bus crash after the fact. “Well, it’s part of the human psyche to want to line up when we see one forming.” “It’s kind of like when some store’s pastries or fish cakes go viral on social media and orders start flooding in, isn’t it? People see it trending and think, I want to try it, too. Oh—” Realization hitting him, Naoya looked up at Takatsuki. “It’s really similar to what you talked about in class, right, Professor? Hayarigami?” One day, something is suddenly deified, the story spreads through word of mouth, and it becomes a massive craze. That was hayarigami, and it was also exactly like the Miracle Girl’s story. Naoya got the feeling that the people who had lined up to see the girl were no different than the ones who had rushed from all over the country to worship the human-faced fish. Takatsuki nodded. “Indeed. I think so, too. She’s a modern hayarigami.” “But those kinds of trends die out soon after the hype ends. Does that mean the Miracle Girl story will also disappear soon?” “It might… But I’m still a bit concerned that the object of worship in this case is a living child.” Naoya watched Takatsuki as the other man murmured and ran a finger along the apartment complex fence, a strange feeling in his chest. What was it that had Takatsuki so worried? Noticing Naoya’s gaze, Takatsuki looked down at him and grinned. “Hey, Fukamachi, how do you feel about an overnight trip?” “What?” “I was just thinking it might be difficult to make a day visit to Okutama.” “Huh…? Are you going to Okutama?” “Well, I came this far, so of course I want to meet the Miracle Girl herself, you know? Okutama is a lovely place. The autumn leaves will be gone already, but there’s plenty of nature, and a hot spring. Don’t you want to go?” Takatsuki sounded excited as he peered into Naoya’s face. Even if it was for an investigation, considering how long it had been since Naoya had traveled or been to a hot spring, he couldn’t help but find the idea appealing. However, as a broke college student, he had a slight issue. “Um, I can’t really afford it.” “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of the travel expenses as your employer.” “What? Is that okay?” “Since I’ll be taking you away for more than an entire day, sure. You could think of it as your earnings in the form of a vacation? Oh, right—Fukamachi, do you get carsick? And are you someone who needs your own room to sleep in at night, or anything like that?” “No, nothing like that…” “Oh? Good. Then it sounds like a three-person room would be fine!” Takatsuki’s eyes were sparkling, and he had his golden retriever expression in place. Naoya looked up in amazement at that face, which was just as excited as a dog about to go on a walk. He wondered if the three-person room was so that the client, Kawakami, could also go. The idea of sharing a room with a relative stranger wasn’t very appealing, after all, but he felt awkward about voicing that thought, since he had just said it was fine. “I’ll contact you again once I’ve coordinated the schedule, okay? I’ll make the arrangements for a place to stay, Fukamachi, so you just have to bring your overnight bag.” With Takatsuki practically wagging his tail, Naoya felt even more like it would be rude to complain, so he simply replied, “Got it.” A few days later, Takatsuki called to ask if Naoya was okay with going to Okutama in December during the week. On a Thursday and Friday, to be specific. He didn’t have any compulsory classes that day, so he gave the go-ahead. “But you do have general classes those days, right…? I’d feel bad for making you skip them…” Takatsuki’s voice sounded extremely apologetic. But it seemed the schedule couldn’t be changed, apparently because those were the only days Kawakami was available. As he replied, Naoya thought it was odd, since office workers usually had Saturdays and Sundays off. “It’s okay. It’s not like I haven’t missed those classes before, and I have someone I can borrow the notes from.” “Oh, I’m glad you at least have a friend you can count on to that extent!” You don’t have to sound that happy about it, Naoya thought. Exactly how much time did this man spend worrying about Naoya’s lack of friends? “…There’s someone in my language class that I talk to regularly. We’re at least acquaintances. So it’ll be fine.” “It’s so like you to call him an ‘acquaintance’ instead of a ‘friend,’ Fukamachi, really… Oh well, in that case, I really am sorry, but let’s go with those days. On the morning of…could you be waiting in front of the National Garden in Shinjuku by ten o’clock? I’ll come pick you up by car. I’ll send you the exact location later. Make sure you dress warmly!” At that point, Naoya really couldn’t say that he didn’t want to share a room with a stranger. Well, it was only for two days. Naoya didn’t know how likely Kawakami was to tell lies on a daily basis, but if it became a problem, all Naoya had to do was distance himself a little. He expected Takatsuki would understand. Mind made up, Naoya waited for the day of the trip to arrive. On the morning of their departure to Okutama, as Naoya was waiting at the designated pick-up spot, a silver sedan pulled up. The passenger side window opened, and Takatsuki’s face peeked out. “Good morning, Fukamachi! Sorry to keep you waiting in the cold. Get in, quick!” Wondering why Takatsuki was sitting in the passenger seat, Naoya noticed a fierce face and eyes like a rabid dog at the steering wheel on the professor’s other side. “Oi, Akira, don’t open the window. It’s cold. Fukamachi, hurry up.” “M-Mr. Sasakura?!” Despite being startled, Naoya rushed to open the back door and climb into the car. Sasakura started the car while he waited for Naoya to fasten his seatbelt. “Huh? Wait, why is Mr. Sasakura here? I mean, don’t you have work today?” “I’m off duty. Just finished up a case,” Sasakura replied. Of course, Naoya realized. They were going on a weekday because it suited Sasakura’s schedule. “Okutama is more convenient to get to by car,” Takatsuki said. “If KenKen was busy, I figured we could take the train or the bus, but it worked out somehow.” “…Come to think of it, Professor, you don’t have a car, do you? I’ve only ever seen you travel by train or bus.” “Yep. I don’t own one.” “Ah, I thought so. Well, if you live in the city, you don’t need one at all.” “I do have my license, though. I passed the test on the first try, and I think I’m quite good at driving, but…KenKen told me, ‘You are absolutely not allowed to drive!’” “Why’s that?” Sasakura glanced at Naoya through the rearview mirror. “What do you think would happen if a bird hit the windshield while this guy was driving?” “…He would faint on the spot, and possibly cause a major accident, depending on the circumstances.” “Right?” Naoya and Sasakura nodded at each other through the mirror. That would be a bad situation, for sure. “But even so, going out of your way to accompany Professor Takatsuki to Okutama on your day off… Don’t you have anything else to do? I mean, Mr. Sasakura, it’s like you’re his guardian.” “That’s rich coming from a student hitching a ride in someone else’s car. I’m just going to soak in the hot springs and drink in the evening. You need to have a little more respect for the hard work I do every day. You should be thanking me.” “All right, all right, enough bickering, you two. Fukamachi, did you eat a proper breakfast? I have some snacks. Do you want one?” “No, thank you. Besides, this isn’t a field trip! Why did you buy so many snacks from the convenience store?” “Come on, what’s wrong with that? Let’s enjoy ourselves while we have the chance. It’s important to have fun, you know!” Takatsuki was wearing the same coat as he usually did, although he wasn’t in a suit, for once. Because they were headed to Okutama, there was some talk of possibly hiking in the mountains. Wearing an indigo sweater over a white shirt, Takatsuki looked more relaxed than usual, and somehow even younger. Meanwhile, next to him, wearing black from head to toe, Sasakura looked a bit intimidating. Naoya wondered if there was anything to be done about the way he looked like he was scowling even though he wasn’t angry. “I made sure to book us a place to stay that has a hot spring! And the rooms are big, so we could have a pillow fight!” “You serious? Can you imagine having a pillow fight with our strength? One wrong move and we’re gonna make a hole in the wall.” “…Uh, Mr. Sasakura, just how seriously do you take pillow fights? Anyway, we aren’t going to fool around, we’re going to investigate!” “Fukamachi is so serious. It’s rare to see that among today’s youth, isn’t it? “No kidding. Take life that seriously and you’ll start aging prematurely. You’re gonna get all bald and wrinkly.” “…Oh, I see. Now I understand why you look so young, Professor.” “Huh? What do you mean?” Don’t look back at me all wide-eyed, Naoya thought, as Takatsuki did just that. The drive to Okutama took about two hours. They had lunch in front of Okutama Station, then headed in the direction of the Miracle Girl’s address. Her house was near the lake where the accident had happened. There weren’t many private residences in the vicinity, and the house was hidden by the mountains, but even from a distance, they could tell they had found the right place. There were cars parked nearby and several people outside the home. Even though she had relocated to Okutama, it seemed the Miracle Girl was as sought-after as ever. “It’s a weekday, isn’t it…? What do all these guys do for work?” “Who knows? They might be self-employed, retired, or even just taking a personal day. In any case, it seems we’ll have to get in line.” Sasakura parked along the road as the other drivers had done, and the three of them walked toward the girl’s house. There was no nameplate on it. There were five people waiting in line, though it seemed that the first four of them were paired in groups of two. The first pair was holding a package that looked like sake, and the second pair had brought a massive teddy bear. The man in line by himself was carrying something very carefully wrapped in cloth, though Naoya couldn’t tell what it was. There were two portable heaters placed nearby so the visitors could keep warm while they waited. Takatsuki queued up casually at the back of the line and spoke to the man holding the cloth-wrapped package. “Hello. Is this, by chance, the Miracle Girl’s residence?” “…Yes. Is this your first time coming?” The man turned around to speak to them. He looked like he was in his fifties, with neat salt-and-pepper hair, nice clothes, and a calm demeanor. Takatsuki held his hands over one of the heaters and smiled at him. “Yes, I’ve heard talk of her here and there, so I wanted to come meet her myself at least once. But everyone seems to have brought a gift. Darn, is it a problem if I didn’t bring anything?” “No, I don’t believe so. Neither Mana-sama nor her mother asks for anything for themselves. This is really just a matter of mindset, I think.” “Mindset? Is that so?” “Yes,” the man said, nodding. “I operate a restaurant chain. I’m about to open a new location, so I came here to pray for its success. Bringing something like this is like proof to myself that I made my prayer in earnest. Also…it’s a symbol of my genuine gratitude toward the two of them.” “So you’ve come to see them before?” “Yes, a few times before they moved to Okutama. I also heard about them from other people. I heard they’re good protection against misfortune… I was skeptical during my first visit, but soon afterward, my business started to thrive. I have nothing but appreciation for Mana-sama.” The man’s face was very serious. He wasn’t lying at all. He really believed in “Mana-sama.” The other people in line were probably the same. They each went in carrying gifts, not because they were coerced, but out of genuine goodwill. That was why they would link any good fortune they experienced to their visits to the Miracle Girl. They paid their respects to her and brought presents as proof of their faith. They would surely receive blessings in proportion to their gifts. That was what they believed. What on earth was this “Mana-sama” like, who attracted so much adoration? Did she appear to be that divine? They waited in line for approximately one hour. More people lined up behind Naoya’s group in that time, a testament to the Miracle Girl’s popularity. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. Right this way, please.” The woman who welcomed them inside was probably Mana’s mother. In a red tunic sweater and skinny jeans, she gave the impression of being quite an ordinary woman. She appeared to be in her late thirties. She didn’t wear much makeup, and her hair was tied back simply. They were led to a small, subdued living room. The floor was covered in beige carpet. A glass patio door overlooked the yard, and in front of it sat an upholstered sofa set and a low table. Next to an average-sized television was a magazine rack stuffed with newspapers, periodicals, and a collection of fairy tales that were all upside down. The laundry hanging on the clothesline in the garden fluttered in the wind. The house seemed exceptionally normal and filled with the trappings of everyday life. There were no religious symbols, nor even the slightest trace of what one would picture a living god’s residence containing. The living god in question, Mana-sama, was sitting not on the sofa, but neatly on the floor, doodling with colored pencils on a drawing pad she had spread over the table. She was a petite girl. Her hair went just past her shoulders, and she was dressed in a black cardigan and red checkered skirt. She had adorable round eyes and a button nose, but her mouth was pursed tightly. She colored with single-minded intention, as if she didn’t even notice Naoya, Takatsuki, and Sasakura entering the room. “Please have a seat. I’ll serve some tea.” The woman headed for the kitchen that was attached to the living room. As they lowered themselves onto the sofa across from where Mana was sitting, it happened. They heard the small fluttering of wings. Takatsuki jolted in surprise. Naoya’s head whipped around toward the direction the sound had come from. In front of the glass door, hidden behind the sofa, was a birdcage. A gray Java sparrow perched inside it. “Professor, are you all right?” Naoya turned to Takatsuki, whose face had gone stiff and slightly pale. “Ah, yep, I’m okay… If there’s just one bird of that size.” The professor pressed a hand to his face and let out a small breath. He didn’t look like he was going to faint, but his hands trembled somewhat. Sasakura called out to the woman in the kitchen. “Sorry, but could you move that birdcage to a different room for now? This guy really can’t handle birds.” “Hm? Oh…I see. I’m sorry, I’ll move it right away.” She took the cage into the next room. Lifting her head, Mana silently watched it go. The next room seemed to be something of a storage space for visitors’ gifts. Naoya could see the stuffed animal that the couple from earlier had been carrying. The room was also filled with alcohol, fruits, toys, and boxes of candy. The majority of the people who came here likely brought presents with them. “That sparrow was given to us by a previous customer. I was told it would do good for Mana’s emotional wellbeing to have an animal close to her… She doesn’t seem very interested, though.” The woman smiled as she returned to the living room and set a tray carrying teacups and a small kettle on the table. Mana returned to her picture. She was drawing what looked like a forest in green colored pencil. Sitting on the couch directly behind Mana, the woman put her hands on her knees and bowed slightly at them. “Thank you for coming despite the cold. You’re all first-time customers, yes? I’m Mana’s mother, Makiko. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m very sorry, but as there are a lot of customers today, our conversation will last for only twenty minutes. I hope you understand. Now then—what is troubling you today?” “Not that we don’t have our troubles, but that isn’t why we came today. The truth is we’re here for a slightly different reason than the other customers.” Takatsuki gave his business card to a puzzled Makiko. “My name is Takatsuki. I’m an associate professor at Seiwa University in Tokyo. These two are my friend and my assistant.” Makiko studied Takatsuki’s card for a moment, then raised her eyes. “I see. A university professor… Then what is your business here today?” “There’s no point in lying, so I’ll be frank. I’ve come to find out what the ‘Miracle Girl of Okutama’ is all about. Is it actually a religion, or perhaps something relating to folk belief? It seems there are people who are concerned.” “Goodness… That was quite frank.” Looking uncomfortable, Makiko picked up the teapot. She poured green tea into the cups, setting one each in front of Takatsuki, Naoya, and Sasakura, along with small plates of jellied snacks. Neither the tea nor the treats looked cheap. More than likely, they had also been gifts from customers. “We aren’t a religion. We don’t follow any particular dogma, and I don’t force anyone to donate. People may bring something out of the kindness of their hearts, but…” “Yes, that’s what I had heard. And looking around this room now, it doesn’t have the feel of someplace religious. But you do seem to get quite a lot of visitors. You mentioned a twenty-minute conversation—what happens during that period?” “I just hear people out. Many of them are struggling in some way. I’m not in a position to give advice, so most of the time I only listen, but even that alone seems to provide some relief.” “There are also people who have received a picture that ‘Mana-sama’ drew, I believe?” “Ah, that. Some customers say they want proof that they came, anything will do. But I don’t have anything to give, and when I ask what they would like, they say they would be happy with one of her pictures… She’s often drawing while customers visit, you see.” Makiko stroked Mana’s head as she spoke. Mana continued coloring her forest drawing, not particularly responding to the touch. She filled in a tree trunk that stretched toward the sky with a brown pencil. Takatsuki glanced at the picture, suddenly frowning. He looked back up at Makiko. “Today’s a weekday. Is Mana not going to school?” “Ever since the accident, she’s withdrawn into herself… She’s been in no condition to go to school since before we moved here. She’s enrolled in a distance learning program.” “Do you deal with visitors all day long? It must be difficult to manage that number of people. Do you have any time to deal with household matters?” “Everyone spends their precious time coming to visit us, so it’s no trouble. Besides, we take short breaks for meals, and I don’t allow late-night visits. And I don’t let Mana stay inside all day, because it’s better for her to play outside sometimes. When she’s outside, I handle customers by myself, or ask them to return at another time.” “Please excuse me for asking, but what do you do for work at the moment?” “…I quit since the number of visitors increased. I can’t leave my daughter alone all day, after all.” “But then, do you have trouble with living expenses?” “That’s… Everyone is very generous, so we manage somehow…” Makiko’s answer was slightly vague. There probably were a lot of visitors who brought money instead of gifts, after all. Considerable amounts of money, no less. But even though Makiko had hesitated slightly to answer, her voice hadn’t distorted at all. It was true that they weren’t a religion and that they weren’t coercing people into making donations. Still, Naoya thought, glancing at Takatsuki, who sat beside him. For a while now, Naoya had been more concerned about Takatsuki’s demeanor than Makiko’s. The professor, who was always grinning while he spoke with others, hadn’t cracked even the slightest smile. His face had remained stiff and anxious, and it was so unlike him that Naoya grew worried. Was it because of the bird in the house? Sasakura chimed in. “What about this house? Considering your previous situation, it doesn’t seem like you’d be able to move to a new place very easily.” “One of the people who visited us had a vacant property and very kindly bequeathed it to us. Our last apartment was small, and it was difficult to see customers, plus we had the attention of the neighbors… Besides, living close to the site of the accident like this, it also becomes a place to mourn for those lost.” The sudden warping of Makiko’s voice made Naoya press his hands to his ears with a start. Living here to grieve for the people who had died—that was a lie. But why, out of everything she said, was that the one thing that was distorted? Noticing Naoya’s reaction, Takatsuki frowned again. Stroking Mana’s head again, Makiko continued. “Well… Truly, we aren’t a religious group or anything like that. But this child really is a ‘miracle.’ What else would you call her being spared in that accident, if not a miracle? It’s only natural that there are those who want to share in her good fortune, and it would be wrong to refuse them. So as long as people want them, we will be sharing our blessings.” Makiko’s gaze was affectionate as she looked at Mana. Immersed in her own world, however, Mana just kept moving her colored pencils around and around the page. “May I ask about the circumstances of the accident?” Takatsuki asked. “How on earth did Mana survive?” “The police believe that she was thrown from an open window the moment the bus started to roll, because she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. Her backpack was found inside the bus. With no bag weighing her down, being as light as she is, she simply got extremely lucky and was thrown out—that’s what they told me. It was truly miraculous. She only had scrapes on her arms and legs. Other than one of her shoes flying off in the impact, she lost nothing, not even the hat on her head. I was told that was a stroke of good luck, too. That it must have protected her head when she hit the ground.” There had been three buses on the field trip, and the one that turned over was the last one. When it rolled, the other buses ahead of it and the cars driving behind all came to a stop. Tons of people gathered around. In all the commotion, someone suddenly said, “Hey, what’s up with that girl over there?” Crouched alone on the side of the road, crying, was Mana. “Strangely enough, no one noticed she was there at first. No one thought there was any chance a child had survived the crash.” Makiko chuckled. “But when I talk about that, some people say Mana might have teleported from the overturned bus and materialized outside of it. They wonder if she’s psychic, or if a deity or something carried her to safety. Everyone has their own interpretation, but I don’t care what the truth is. Whether she was thrown out a window like the police said, or she teleported, or she was saved by God… All that matters is that she survived.” Makiko hugged Mana, telling them she was just grateful that her daughter was spared, regardless of the circumstances. She rested her cheek lovingly against Mana’s head. “I brought this child into the world as a single mother. She’s all I have. Without her, I probably wouldn’t be here. I am truly thankful—to fate, to the gods, to the world—for not taking her away from me… She stopped talking after the accident, but really, I love her so much I can’t help it. That’s what I say to the people who come to visit her, too. I tell them that it’s a loving, grateful, accepting heart that invites miracles to happen. You might say that kind of thing makes me sound like a religious leader again, but it’s what I truly believe.” Voice trembling, Makiko stroked Mana’s head over and over. Mana, who was simply allowing it to happen, suddenly lifted her head from within her mother’s arms. Blinking slowly, Mana stared at Takatsuki. Beneath her long eyelashes, the girl’s dark eyes gave away nothing. Takatsuki stared back at her silently. At that moment, Sasakura looked down at Mana’s drawing. He muttered, “…Hey. Isn’t there something off about this picture?” Naoya took another look at the paper. It was an extremely childlike depiction of a forest. The grassy ground was represented with green lines, from which a number of trees grew up toward the blue sky. Something that looked like a fence spanned the bottom of the drawing, so it might have been a picture of a park somewhere. The leaves on the trees were drawn as masses of fluffy greenery, rather than being shown individually. Naoya recalled drawing quite a few pictures like this when he was a child. Then, suddenly, an intense discomfort washed over Naoya. The picture in front of him was very ordinary. A simple drawing of a forest done in colored pencil. It was made well enough that anyone could tell what it was at a glance. But that wasn’t why it was so easy for them to recognize the picture. It was the orientation. It was wrong. The paper on the table was placed so that the ground side was facing Naoya’s group, and the sky was facing Mana. As if the world had been flipped on its head—Mana had drawn it upside-down. Mana’s eyes moved. She stared at Sasakura, Takatsuki, and Naoya in turn. The eyes she turned upon them were dark, cold, and hard, without emotion or passion, just like the glass balls used as the eyes of stuffed animals. At the same time, her gaze radiated an air of intimidation that made it hard to believe it belonged to a child. Mana’s eyes shifted again. Staring directly at the door to the room, it was as if she was saying— —Hurry up and leave. As they got into Sasakura’s car after leaving Mana’s house, Takatsuki let out a breath from deep in his chest. “Akira, you okay?” “Ah, yeah, I’m fine… As expected, I don’t do well when I know there’s a bird nearby. I was nervous. Maybe I should eat something sweet.” As he answered Sasakura’s question, Takatsuki took a box of chocolates out of the convenience store bag. Sasakura stared hard at Takatsuki, who seemed to be pushing himself to smile. “Don’t get too caught up in this case.” About to peel the transparent plastic away from the box of chocolates, Takatsuki paused for a moment. Then he tore the plastic away in one go, opened the box, and smiled as he popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth. “Why? I’m fine.” “Because—” “You’re a worrywart, KenKen. Here, you have a chocolate, too.” Takatsuki thrust the box out toward Sasakura, cutting him off. Sasakura stared at Takatsuki for a while, then accepted the box without a word. He took one chocolate for himself, then handed the box back. Somewhat suspicious of their exchange, Naoya leaned forward from the back seat. “So what are we going to do now?” “Good question. Just in case, let’s go to the accident site. I guess we’ll go to the inn afterward.” “Okay… Um.” “Hm? What is it, Fukamachi?” Takatsuki turned to look back at him, but Naoya wasn’t quite sure how to say it. “Earlier…when Ms. Makiko talked about her reasons for moving here, she was lying. She didn’t come here intending to mourn the people who died.” “…I see.” “So then why on earth would she live here? I mean, Mana became mute because of the accident. Living near where it happened… I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why would she do that?” “Isn’t it just because the house she was given just happened to be in Okutama?” Sasakura said. “To her—I guess I shouldn’t say ‘devotees’—to her customers, that Mana girl has a strong connection to Okutama. They probably thought it was an appropriate gift. A secondhand house of their own is better than their old, run-down apartment, even for those two. They don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors, and they can get a fresh start.” “That’s true. I think KenKen has a point,” Takatsuki said, nodding. He took another chocolate from the box and, holding it between his fingers, stared at it. “Although—I don’t think living here will be any kind of fresh start for that family. If that’s what they really wanted, they should have gone somewhere far away from here.” Takatsuki put the chocolate between his lips and ate it. The accident site was on a road alongside Lake Okutama. The road hugged the lake’s winding edge, resulting in countless large curves. A mountain rose up on the opposing shore. The guardrail that must have been destroyed by the rolling bus had already been replaced, and there were no traces of the accident left on the precipice beyond. Nevertheless, it was still as plain as day that an accident had occurred on the spot. Dozens of flowers had been left there. More than half a year had passed already since the crash. And yet, among the offered flowers were ones that looked like they hadn’t been there for very long. The parents of the children who were lost still came to leave flowers at the site. “Seriously… How could anyone survive this…?” Sasakura peered down into the lake at the spot the bus had rolled off the cliff. The car was parked on the side of the road. Standing next to him, Naoya looked down as well. Perhaps because it was a cloudy day, the water looked more gray than blue. From their vantage point all the way up on the cliff, the surface of the lake was so placid that it was hard to believe it had once swallowed up the lives of an entire bus full of children. The longer Naoya looked at it, the more he felt like it would swallow him up as well. “Did you know that Lake Okutama is often cited as a hotspot for ghosts?” Takatsuki said from behind them. “They say you’ll be dragged in by the spirit of a woman who committed suicide here, so be careful.” Without thinking, Naoya took a step away from the guardrail. He turned to glare at Takatsuki. “…Why would you say something like that right now?” “If not now, when would I say it?” “It’s in poor taste.” “Ah, you’re right. I’m sorry.” Naoya nodded in acknowledgment of Takatsuki’s earnest apology. It seemed that there was no information to be gained from the site of the accident. All they had been able to confirm was that Mana’s survival truly had been miraculous. “Akira. What now?” Sasakura asked. “Well, for now—I think we’ve done enough. We got what we came here for, more or less.” “What are you gonna tell the client?” “I’ll tell him they aren’t a religious group. At the very least, there’s no present need to worry about them recruiting members or anything. And even if Mr. Kawakami’s parents continue to visit Mana, if they bring her money, that’s their choice to make. I can’t be the one to intervene. They’ll have to discuss it as a family, or he’ll have to wait until his parents lose interest.” “They might not be one now, but do you think there’s any possibility this will grow into a religious group in the future?” Takatsuki tilted his head to the side slightly at Naoya’s anxious question. “As long as some new-age cult doesn’t set its sights on Mana, I think it’ll be fine. Ms. Makiko didn’t seem inclined in that direction.” Makiko’s repeated insistence that they weren’t a religious group hadn’t been a lie. They weren’t the kind of organization Kawakami was worried about, there was no disputing that. The joy Makiko felt over Mana being spared in the crash was genuine, and it was also true that she listened to other people’s troubles because she wanted to share in the miracle. As for the gifts from visitors—the feeling that they ought to take what they could get was probably at play. In any case, what they had learned should be enough to satisfy Kawakami’s request. “So what do you wanna do now? It’s still a bit early to go to the inn. Should we do a little sightseeing or something?” “Good idea… Ah, then there’s someplace I want to go!” Takatsuki’s eyes suddenly lit up. Sasakura scowled at him. “…Don’t tell me it’s somewhere haunted.” “How did you guess? You know, the abandoned Lake Okutama Ropeway is an extremely famous ghost hotspot, and I’ve never been before.” “Nope, no way in hell! Pick somewhere more normal!” “Wha-a-at? Even though we’re all the way in Okutama?” “Enough out of you. Hey—Fukamachi. Isn’t there someplace you wanna go? Hurry up and find somewhere.” “Uh, um, please give me a minute.” Naoya hurriedly pulled out his phone while Sasakura glared at him. He typed in a search for “sightseeing in Okutama.” “Ah, it looks like there’s a limestone cave nearby. It says you can explore inside it.” “How late is it open?” “Umm… In December, until four thirty PM.” “We can still make it. Okay, let’s go.” “Are you talking about Nippara cave? If I remember correctly, that place is also famous for being the site of a lot of spirit photography! Also for a man going missing there and only his right arm being recovered!” “Akira! Don’t open your mouth again!” Takatsuki stopped talking after Sasakura smacked him on the head. Naoya returned to the car, wondering if maybe Sasakura, who was also climbing quickly into the driver’s seat, was afraid of ghosts. Just as he was about to get in the car as well, Takatsuki turned his gaze to the other side of the lake. He stared hard at the top of the mountain. “Professor? Is something wrong?” “…Ah, sorry. I’m coming.” Takatsuki smiled brightly at Naoya, then slid into the passenger seat. They ended up going to Nippara cave. Most of the other tourist areas nearby were hiking trails, and considering the time required and the cold, those seemed best saved for another day. It was warmer inside the cave, which was said to be the largest in the Kanto region, than it was outside of it, apparently because it maintained a fairly constant temperature throughout the year. There weren’t many other people there, perhaps because it was a weekday. Between the rather steep staircases and the narrow paths, descending into the cave felt like traversing the underground labyrinths and dungeons seen in movies and video games, which was a little exciting. But parts of the cave had been named things like “Infernal Ravine” and “River of the Dead,” and since Takatsuki had mentioned beforehand that the cave was haunted, there was also a strong feeling of foreboding. A massive stalagmite which had been dubbed “White-Robed Kannon” looked frighteningly like it could come to life at any moment. “What’s up with all these ominous names…” “It’s all very Buddhist, isn’t it?” “Probably because this was a site for mountain worship. The Shugendo ascetics considered it a holy place. They regarded the entire cave as a temple, named the stalactites and stalagmites that look like that one after Bodhisattvas, made pilgrimages here, and trained here. Though—this lighting makes it look like we’re in an amusement park, doesn’t it? It’s pretty, but it has no relation to religious faith. It’s very modern.” The ceiling was illuminated in seven colors by some lights that had been set up in some large hollows. Looking up at them, Takatsuki narrowed his eyes a little. When he had looked up Nippara cave online, all the pictures Naoya found showcased this section of the cave. It was the only one where the craggy rock faces were wondrously bathed in blue and green and red lights. Compared to the dim passages that were centrally lit with nothing but white lights, this one seemed like another world. “This place looks like it would definitely be popular with people who use Instagram. It has the feel of somewhere that would get more customers because it’s popular with young people.” “That’s true. I mean, everyone likes beautiful things.” As he spoke, Takatsuki took out his phone and snapped a photo. A little surprised, Naoya asked, “Huh, Professor, are you on Instagram?” “I’m not. But I was hoping I would get a picture of a ghost.” “…Makes sense.” That was the type of person Akira Takatsuki was. Suddenly, Takatsuki pointed his phone in Naoya’s direction. “Okay, Fukamachi, KenKen! Look over here!” “What?” “Huh?” Caught off guard by the shutter noise, Naoya and Sasakura both inadvertently froze. Takatsuki was already reviewing the photo he had just taken. “Pr-Professor, don’t tell me you tried to take a picture of our spirits or something?” “What on earth are you talking about? It’s a commemorative photograph of our trip.” “Huh…” Takatsuki’s retort, delivered as if the thought of a commemorative photo should have been obvious, made Naoya falter. Sasakura was peering at Takatsuki’s phone from the side. “Then you should be in it, too. You’re the one who brought us here.” “Hmm, but there’s no one else around, and I’ve never taken a selfie before. Anyway, KenKen, your outfit is so dark it blends into the background. This looks like a picture of a ghost.” “…So why not just take the picture outside. Here, give that to me. I’ll take one of you two,” Sasakura said, snatching Takatsuki’s phone away. Takatsuki stood next to Naoya, looking happy. “Huh, no, I don’t really want to be in any pictures—” “Just smile, Fukamachi. You’re supposed to smile for photos.” But Naoya was so unused to both smiling and pictures that he couldn’t simply pull a smile out of nowhere just because someone told him to. While he wondered what kind of expression he was supposed to make, Sasakura went ahead and pushed the shutter button. The resulting photo wasn’t great, with Naoya looking a bit strained and Takatsuki grinning. “I’ll send you the picture, Fukamachi.” “What? No, I don’t want it. It’s not a good one anyway.” “Too bad, it’s a souvenir!” Takatsuki replied, sending the photo anyway. I’ll just delete it later, Naoya thought, stowing away his phone, which was laden with one more image. Then, all at once, he realized this was the first trip he had ever taken that wasn’t with his family or for school. Naoya had never dared to imagine he would travel with someone, staying overnight somewhere and going sightseeing. Finding himself strangely embarrassed over how much fun he was having despite himself, Naoya slowed his pace a little, a few steps from where Takatsuki and Sasakura had started walking again. But Sasakura scolded him—“Hurry up.”—the second he noticed. Reluctantly, Naoya caught up with the other two men, wondering what their group of three must look like from the outside. There was no way to mistake them for blood relatives, so it was possible they just appeared to be some kind of mysterious gang. Now, that’s enough to make me smile, thought Naoya, casually touching the pocket his phone was in. As far as deleting that photo went… He decided to give it a little more thought. After leaving the limestone cave, they headed for the inn where Takatsuki had made the reservations. The inn, situated near Hatonosu Gorge, looked more like a modern hotel from the outside, and their room was a mix of traditional Japanese and Western elements. There were beds for two people, and it seemed the third person would have to sleep in a futon on the tatami-matted section of the room. They decided to play a brutal round of rock-paper-scissors for the beds, and Naoya lost handily… From the start, he had suspected that was how things would turn out. “I’m sorry, Fukamachi. I’d be happy to trade if you need to be in a bed to sleep, though.” “No… It’s fine. I’ll be okay. Please don’t worry about it.” There was still time before dinner. Naoya thought it might be a good idea to go to the hot springs before they ate. According to the hotel information guide, he had the choice between an open-air bath and a large indoor facility. Putting his bag down on the tatami mats, Naoya looked over at Takatsuki, who was sitting on his bed reading something. It looked like the local tourism brochure he had received at the front desk. “Um, is it all right if I go to the hot spring?” “Oh, yes, please do. Why don’t you go, too, KenKen?” “Yeah, I’ll go.” Sasakura nodded. Takatsuki, however, made no move to get up. He was staring intently at the brochure—what inside of it could possibly have grabbed his attention that much? Naoya cocked his head to the side. “You’re not going, Professor?” “Nope, I’m good. The room has a bath, after all.” “What? But the hot springs…” As Naoya started to reply, Sasakura grabbed him around the nape of his neck. “Let’s just go.” “Wh—? Wait, Mr. S-Sasakura, neck, my neck, hold on, you’re going to choke me…!” Unconcerned with Naoya’s fussing, Sasakura grabbed towels and robes for the both of them in one hand and steered Naoya out of the room in a hurry with the other. He let go after they had been walking down the corridor for a little while, and Naoya gave the other man a piece of his mind. “Who do you think you are, Mr. Bad Cop? You can’t just hold onto people the way you would hold a kitten!” “Shut up… Akira can’t go into public baths. So don’t ask him to.” Sasakura spoke in a low voice, and Naoya instinctively went quiet. He had to hurry to catch back up to Sasakura, who had kept walking while Naoya paused. “He can’t? Why not— Oh.” As soon as the question started to leave his mouth, Naoya realized the answer. It was the scars on Takatsuki’s back. Naoya had never seen them, but he had heard they were still quite large and distinct. Takatsuki probably didn’t want anyone to see them. “That’s why he picked a hotel that has baths for each room,” Sasakura said. “Besides—he must be exhausted from today. Leave him alone.” Embarrassed, Naoya walked along in Sasakura’s long-legged wake. The bathhouse was almost empty, probably because it was a weekday in the winter. Naoya took off his glasses and got undressed in the changing room alongside Sasakura. The other man, whose toned physique was apparent even when he was wearing clothes, became even more impressive to look at when he was out of them. For reasons he didn’t quite understand, Naoya was overcome with a sense of defeat. “…What are you moping for? Don’t be weird.” “No, it’s just, I was wondering what I would have to do to get muscles like that… I mean, your abs are really defined…” His own reedy build was pitiful. Naoya still hadn’t regained much of the weight he had lost when he was ill the month before. Thanks to that period, he felt like he had lost his already meager amount of muscle tone. “What, you wanna work out? Well, it couldn’t hurt, that’s for sure.” “It’s not that I want to work out… That time when Professor Takatsuki collapsed, I couldn’t carry him by myself.” Sasakura had thrown Takatsuki over his shoulder with ease, but it wasn’t like Naoya could call Sasakura every time there was trouble. At the very least, Naoya wanted to be able to move an unconscious Takatsuki on his own. Though he was hoping he wouldn’t be in a situation like that ever again. “I dunno if you could carry him on your back, considering your height.” “How tall are you, Mr. Sasakura?” “About six foot, two inches.” “And Professor Takatsuki?” “Just under six feet, I’m pretty sure. You?” “…Five foot eight.” “Yeah, not happening. Don’t even try.” “Come on!” “Fine, then start drinking milk every day, from today. And if you wanna work out, then as soon as you get back to the room, do some sit-ups, back extensions, push-ups, and squats.” “Huh?” “You wanna get stronger, right? Akira does his own training, too. Muscle is heavier than it looks. If you don’t start working out, you’ll never be able to carry him.” Naoya felt like maybe he had gotten a little ahead of himself. He wasn’t going to set himself up for being sore the day following their hot springs trip. However, it had been Sasakura who had taught self-defense techniques to Takatsuki. Perhaps it would be a good idea for Naoya to learn self-defense, too, just in case. Accompanying Takatsuki sometimes meant getting into dangerous situations. There was a big window in the large, stone-built bath facility, which was probably perfect for viewing the gorge scenery during the daytime. Getting clean in the washing area then submerging oneself in the hot spring felt somehow revitalizing. It was wonderful to feel all the blood vessels in one’s body, all the way down to the fingertips, expand in the heat. The guests who had already been in the bath left as Naoya and Sasakura got in. Looking around at what had become their own private hot spring, Naoya let out a little sigh. Takatsuki could have come, too, he thought, since there was no one else around. But even so, Naoya had the feeling the professor wouldn’t have joined them. He wouldn’t have been able to relax if he was worried over someone else walking in—and anyway, Takatsuki might not want Naoya to see his scars, either. “…Um.” Naoya opened his mouth, and Sasakura looked at him. “The scars on Professor Takatsuki’s back… Are they that bad?” Sasakura was quiet for a moment, then he sighed. “…Let’s just say they stand out.” “Have you seen them?” “Yeah,” Sasakura replied, reticent as usual. Deciding not to push it, Naoya sank up to his chin in the water, his gaze cast downward. Takatsuki’s obsession with the supernatural came solely from his desire to find out what had happened to him in the past. He might have been kidnapped by tengu, or perhaps he hadn’t. Naoya couldn’t help but feel anxious about it, because he didn’t know one way or the other. Someone had abducted him, peeled the skin from his back, and thrown him away. It had already been more than twenty years since then—too long ago to investigate for himself. And so, Takatsuki collected ghost stories and urban legends from the public, hoping he could find a case like his own. If he could investigate a case like that, it could lead him to his own past. Despite his typically sunny disposition, there was a deep, murky darkness dwelling at Takatsuki’s core. “Oh yeah,” Sasakura piped up. “That journalist. He didn’t try getting close to you again after that incident, right?” He had to be referring to Iinuma. Naoya shook his head. “No, I didn’t see him… But is it really okay not to do anything about him?” “Probably. I warned Akira about him, just in case…and I told you before, right? Even if some sketchy article gets written about him, his dad will take care of it.” “About that… What is his father like? His family?” “—Don’t.” Sasakura cut him off. Naoya looked at him in surprise. Brushing his wet bangs back, Sasakura fixed his razor-sharp gaze on Naoya. “It’s not a fun thing to talk about. Unless he tells you about it himself, you don’t need to know.” “…Got it.” Naoya sank back into the water gloomily. He got the sense that he was being kept out of the loop after all. He knew almost nothing about what Takatsuki was dealing with. The professor barely talked about himself. Everything he did know about Takatsuki’s past was something Sasakura had told him before. It wasn’t as though Naoya thought he would be able to help, somehow—nevertheless, he would have liked to learn a bit more, at least as much as was relevant to his own involvement with Takatsuki. Still, Naoya couldn’t force the information out of him. Takatsuki didn’t want to talk about it because discussing his own emotional trauma was just that painful. Naoya couldn’t help but feel depressed over it anyway. Takatsuki had built a wall around himself to ward off other people, just like Naoya had done. And Naoya hadn’t been allowed beyond that wall…even though he thought they were supposed to be fellow travelers on a dark, mysterious path. “Hey. Get up before you make yourself lightheaded,” Sasakura said toward Naoya’s mostly submerged form. Naoya turned his head toward the other man. “…Mr. Sasakura, can I ask one more thing?” “What is it?” “Are you, possibly, afraid of ghosts?” Sasakura’s left cheek twitched just for a moment. “I was just thinking, because of the way you reacted earlier today, that could be the case… Wh—pbbft!” All of a sudden, one of Sasakura’s huge hands clamped onto the back of Naoya’s head and shoved him underwater. Bull’s-eye, apparently. The next day, once they were done packing up and preparing to check out of the inn, Takatsuki spoke up. “Before we go home, there’s someplace I wanted to stop by. Is that okay?” He opened the tourist brochure he had been reading the night before and showed it to them. He was pointing to a place called Miharashi Hill. It was a spot overlooking Lake Okutama, and the brochure said there was a trail that took between one and two hours to complete. “The weather is nice today, and we might as well see it while we’re nearby, right?” All they had planned for the day was the drive home. There was nothing wrong with talking a little stroll before that. Naoya and Sasakura both agreed, and just as Takatsuki wished, they went to Miharashi Hill. Only—as soon as they got there, Naoya realized he had been misinformed of the situation. The trail wasn’t suitable for a “little stroll”—rather, they were in for a bit of light hiking. The moderately steep path was riddled with stones and curved at several points throughout the ascent. If it had been the season for cherry blossoms or autumn leaves, they could have at least enjoyed the surrounding scenery, but it was winter. All the trees were barren, and there was nothing nice to look at except Lake Okutama below. Viewed from a high vantage point on a sunny day, the lake certainly was beautiful. The surface had looked gray the day before, but now it was an amazing hue that could be called neither blue nor green and sparkled faintly under the deluge of sunlight. Compared to the two older men walking ahead of him, however, Naoya’s legs were quite short. It was pretty difficult just to keep up with their pace. Eventually, Naoya realized he was watching his own feet move instead of taking in the scenery. People tended to look down when they were tired. But suddenly, a question popped into Naoya’s head: Why had Takatsuki wanted to come here? Could it be that, like the limestone cave, this hill was also rumored to be a hotspot for ghosts? It didn’t really have that kind of sinister aura, though. The reason it was relatively deserted was probably simply because it was the offseason, not because it was haunted. The occasional person they passed on their way up was inevitably someone walking their dog, rather than a sightseer. Then— “—Oh!” Takatsuki let out a small sound and stopped walking. Naoya followed his line of sight and found his own eyes widening in surprise. There was a child on the viewing platform just ahead. It was Mana. She was dressed in a navy-blue coat and a green skirt, with a small red purse slung diagonally across her body from shoulder to hip. He started to wonder why she was in a place like this, but then Naoya remembered that Makiko had said something like, “If Mana wants to go outside, I let her.” They probably weren’t very far from her house. She might have come here to play. Looking closer, Naoya could see Mana was holding something that looked like a pamphlet in her hands. She stared at the open pamphlet with a serious expression, then looked around as if to confirm something. She stepped unsteadily up to the fence surrounding the platform and looked down. As Mana stood there unmoving, Takatsuki slowly approached her. “Mana, what are you doing?” Startled by his voice, Mana looked back at them, hurrying to shove the pamphlet into her bag. That reaction alone made her seem far more human than she had at her house the day before. The pamphlet, upside down and unceremoniously stowed away, was bigger than the purse itself. More than half of it was sticking out. It looked like it was made from sheets of photocopy paper bundled together, and the words “Field Trip Guide” were written across the cover. “Mana, was that given to you on the day of your school trip?” Takatsuki asked. The girl hesitated, letting her gaze wander, then gave a tiny nod. “May I see it?” Her eyes remained restless, but ultimately, she held it out to Takatsuki without a fuss. He opened the crinkled, curling pages carefully. Inside, there was information about the time and location of the field trip, a map of the destination, and a list of important notes about the excursion. Takatsuki closed the pamphlet and handed it back to Mana. “As I thought, Mana and the other kids came here—Miharashi Hill—for their trip. There are other trails, but when you consider where the accident happened and what kind of terrain the children’s legs could handle, this is the only one that makes sense. Plus, I wondered if the picture you drew yesterday was of this place. The shape of the fence is very similar.” Naoya’s eyes widened again. Was that why Takatsuki had wanted to come here? Takatsuki squatted down in front of Mana, speaking to her at her eye level. “What were you looking at just now, Mana?” Mana averted her gaze as if she didn’t want to answer. Her small hands clutched tightly at the strap of her bag. “Hey, Mana, were you actually—” It happened as Takatsuki started to speak again. Out of nowhere, Mana shoved Takatsuki away as hard as she could, then took off running. The professor, who had landed on his rear end, was helped to his feet by Sasakura. “You okay?” “Yeah. She’s gone, isn’t she? I hope she doesn’t trip and fall.” They could see her tiny form already racing down the hill. Takatsuki didn’t try to follow Mana. Once he was done brushing the dirt from his clothes, he turned to look over the viewing platform fence where the little girl had been. Naoya and Sasakura followed suit. Beyond the fence, there was a long, steep drop. The trees growing on the slope obscured the view somewhat, but they could see the lake below, and the road that encircled it. Naoya wondered if maybe the site of the accident was visible from the platform, but that didn’t seem to be the case. In one swift movement, Takatsuki put his hands on the fence and leaned his upper body out over it. “Akira? What are you doing? That’s dangerous.” “Kenji.” Gaze scouring over the slope, Takatsuki said Sasakura’s name. “Do you have a rope in your car?” “A rope? I think there’s one in the trunk.” “Would you go get it for me?” “Why?” “Sorry, but—I really, really want to go down this hill right now. So I need a rope.” Takatsuki’s voice was stubborn. He wasn’t going to be dissuaded. Naoya looked in the direction the professor’s gaze was fixed on, but he couldn’t see anything that stood out. It was all scattered trees and withered grass. Sasakura looked at Takatsuki from the side and scowled. “Akira, what are you thinking?” “I just want to uncover the truth, obviously.” “You already did what the client asked… You’re getting too involved in this case.” “Just get me the rope. Quickly,” Takatsuki implored, staring intently over the fence. Sighing, Sasakura shook his head. “…Fine. I’ll be right back, so don’t move. Also, if someone is gonna climb down there, it’ll be me.” The second time they visited Mana’s house, there were, as expected, several people lined up outside. Unlike their first visit, however, Takatsuki did not wait obediently at the end of the line. He slipped past the queue without a word and walked right into the house without knocking. Naoya and Sasakura followed in his wake, shocked to see him casting off his usual gentlemanly behavior. A short while before, Sasakura had tied the rope from his car to the fence on Miharashi Hill, using it to climb down to a tree that was halfway down the slope from the viewing platform, per Takatsuki’s instructions. He grabbed something that had been caught in the tree, then climbed back up. As soon as he laid eyes on the object, Takatsuki’s complexion had changed. Face hardened dramatically, he had declared, “I’m going back to Mana’s house.” When he strode into the living room, the customer who was already there speaking with Makiko looked around in alarm. Mana was already home, once again sitting on the carpet and drawing a picture. “E-excuse me! You have to wait your turn!” “I’m very sorry, but consultations are over for today. Please leave, and please convey the message to the people outside as well.” Takatsuki responded bluntly to the affronted customer. As the man looked like he was on the verge of starting a fight, Makiko moved to calm him. “I am so sorry, but that will be all for today… I apologize for the inconvenience.” “I’ll go if you tell me to, Ms. Makiko, but who the hell is this guy? You’re not in some kind of trouble with him, are you?” Makiko gave the scowling customer a mild-mannered smile. “No, it’s nothing like that. However, it seems his business is quite urgent… If there’s an argument, it will drive off the blessings and good fortune. So, if you don’t mind.” Makiko bowed her head to the man, who stood up reluctantly. He cursed at Takatsuki, then looked frightened for a moment after noticing Sasakura’s feral glare behind him. The customer left without even glancing in Naoya’s direction. Annoyed, Makiko turned to Takatsuki. “Professor Takatsuki, what on earth are you doing? Forcing your way into the house like this… I expected a university professor to have better manners.” “I apologize for my rudeness, but this truly is an urgent matter… Also, I’m sorry, but if you could move that—” Takatsuki pointed to the birdcage which was once more sitting in front of the glass door. Makiko’s brow remained knit with consternation, but she carried the cage into the adjoining room as requested. With the bird gone from the room, Takatsuki breathed a little sigh. He took a seat on the sofa, just as he had the day before, and Sasakura and Naoya joined him. Once Makiko had returned to the living room and taken her usual seat behind Mana, Takatsuki spoke. “I’ll get straight to the point. You need to stop all this and take your daughter to a hospital as soon as possible.” “…Excuse me?” Her mother’s head was cocked to the side, but Mana just kept scribbling away with her colored pencils as if she hadn’t heard a word Takatsuki just said. “Your daughter…” Takatsuki went on “…is probably experiencing some kind of brain dysfunction… Now, when she reads something, she always turns it upside down, doesn’t she?” Makiko flinched. “A little while ago, we ran into Mana at Miharashi Hill. She was reading her field trip guide. She had it turned upside down.” Takatsuki looked at the magazine rack in the corner of the room. It was stuffed full of magazines and collections of fairy tales from around the world. At first glance, the rack just seemed to be in a state of disarray, its contents shoved in randomly. But on closer inspection, it became obvious that all the magazines were oriented properly, while every single fairy tale book was flipped on its head. “I’ve heard there’s a kind of functional neurologic disorder where up and down are reversed. I suspect that’s what your daughter has. I mean, her drawings too, they’re all upside down.” Takatsuki pointed at the picture Mana was in the middle of coloring. Mana’s hands stopped moving. She had drawn an upside-down house. It looked like it was supposed to be the one they were currently in. “Ms. Makiko, there’s no way you didn’t notice this,” Takatsuki said, his tone relentless. “You live with her. Why have you neglected to deal with this until now? Your daughter needs to receive appropriate treatment right away.” Suddenly, Makiko pulled Mana close to her with anxious hands. Perhaps she hadn’t realized the seriousness of the situation. “B-because…at the time, I didn’t have that kind of money! And there didn’t seem to be anything else wrong with her… That—if it’s brain dysfunction—then it must be from getting thrown out of the bus and hitting her head in the accident! It’s been months since then already! What good would treatment do now?!” “No. I don’t think this was caused by physical trauma. I believe it’s psychogenic in nature. That means treatment could still be effective, even now.” The professor shifted his gaze to Mana. Wrapped in her mother’s arms, Mana stared back up at him, meeting his eyes directly. “After all…you probably weren’t on the bus when that happened, were you?” That was the conclusion Takatsuki had come to— Mana wasn’t miraculously spared by being thrown from the bus when it rolled. —She hadn’t been on the bus at all. Eyes wide, Makiko looked down at the girl in her arms. Mana simply continued to stare at Takatsuki, her gaze blank. “This is all going to be conjecture on my part, but I hope you’ll hear me out.” Takatsuki wasn’t speaking to Makiko anymore—his words were directed at Mana. “The day of the field trip, you and the other children were supposed to take the bus home after having some time to explore Miharashi Hill in groups. But you were late getting back to the bus. Because…you lost your shoe off the viewing platform.” As he said that, Takatsuki withdrew an object wrapped in a handkerchief from his coat pocket. It was the thing Sasakura had grabbed out of a tree on the steep slope of Miharashi Hill. Quite faded from an extended period of exposure to the elements—a child’s small, red shoe. When Mana was spotted after the accident, one of her shoes was missing. “You gave someone one of your drawings before, right? I’ve seen that one. It’s a picture of an overturned bus with a girl standing beside it. The girl in the picture has one red foot and one white one. It’s white because the girl is missing a shoe… The girl in the picture is you, isn’t it, Mana? The girl outside of the bus.” Takatsuki might have been entertaining that scenario in his head from the moment Kawakami had shown them that drawing. But he hadn’t had proof of it, at the time. When he found Mana’s shoe on that hill—that’s when he knew his theory was correct. “It would likely be impossible for a child to climb down the slope from the viewing platform. Even so, you were probably trying to think of some way you could get your shoe back. But because of that, you lost track of time. The other children left you—just you—behind and returned to the bus. Then the bus left without you. Your teacher probably didn’t check thoroughly to make sure everyone was present—but it’s possible some of the other children had a hand in that, too.” Takatsuki’s version of events was based on a guess. Nevertheless, it was probably the truth. Mana, on the verge of tears, staring down the slope at her shoe, which was stuck in a tree far below the fence. Her classmates, looking on indifferently. It was also possible that those classmates were the reason Mana’s shoe was lost. Naoya remembered that when they had been gathering information before, the neighbors had said it seemed like Mana was being bullied. No matter how far Mana leaned out over the fence, there was no way to retrieve her shoe. And yet, it was a shoe she couldn’t afford to lose. At the time of that field trip, her family had been poor. The neighbors also talked about seeing her in the same outfits all the time. Who knew if her mother even had the money to buy her new shoes? Before long, the call that it was time to go home came, but Mana couldn’t just abandon her attachment to her shoe. Soon, she realized there was no one else around. She was alone. They had left her behind. She hurried down the path toward the parking lot. The bus was only just about to leave. Inside it, the teacher was calling out, “Is everyone here? Make sure everybody in your group is present!” A mean-spirited classmate answered: “We’re all here!” Mana’s bullies had taken her backpack as well. The only thing that didn’t make it onto the bus was Mana herself. The bus drove away. Mana, only just making it to the lot from the hill, ran after it, waving her arms to be noticed. But no one saw her. Even when she tripped and fell, skinning her knees, the bus kept going. Crying, she got to her feet, forcing her stinging legs to follow the bus. She raced after it desperately, losing sight of it countless times around the curves in the road. “You chased the bus. If we looked for them, we might even be able to find people who saw you running along the guardrail on the side of the road. And you saw it, didn’t you? While you were running? The bus crashing and rolling—upside down—off the cliff.” That sight must have been seared clearly into Mana’s brain. Across several twists and turns in the road, the sight of the bus flipping over and falling. The sight of her classmates, inside of it, all turned on their heads. And so, since then, Mana’s world had been upside down. As Takatsuki talked, Mana’s typically emotionless eyes began to fill with tears. When the first one spilled over her cheek, it was like a dam breaking. Her doll-like face crumpled and contorted and turned bright red. Tears poured down her pale cheeks. Finally, her small voice welled up, and she began to softly sob. Her reaction seemed to prove that Takatsuki was right. “Mana…” Makiko hugged her daughter close, rubbing her back. Mana clung to her mother, starting to wail in earnest. Takatsuki continued, his voice cold. “Ms. Makiko. I think you realized. I think you knew there was a chance that Mana wasn’t really on that bus.” Once again, Makiko flinched. “You said you didn’t have the money to seek treatment at the time of the accident. That’s probably true. But you’re a mother. If your daughter had really hit her head and was experiencing some kind of brain injury, you would have done anything you could to get her cared for. The fact that you didn’t—isn’t that because you realized she hadn’t hit her head?” Makiko’s expression changed. It wasn’t like when Mana’s condition was first pointed out, or when Mana cried and clutched at her. The look in her eyes was, in some way, cowardly. “…Yes. I was vaguely aware of that possibility,” she said, her voice quiet. “Just that it was a possibility, to be clear… A horrible possibility that I didn’t even want to consider.” She went on. “The hospital’s examination revealed nothing abnormal in her brain. No physical trauma…but she was acting strange. She spoke for a little while, immediately after the accident. But as soon as I asked her about it, she stopped. Just once, I asked, ‘Your shoe came off in the accident, right?’ She… She looked down when I asked her that. Mana has a habit of looking down when she lies.” “Then why?” “Then are you saying I should have just accepted the fact that my child was being bullied?!” Suddenly, Makiko exploded into a furious shout. She hugged Mana tighter, baring her teeth menacingly. “I’m a single mother, and we didn’t have a lot of money. I knew, in some way, that the other children were bullying her because of it. Of course I wanted to buy her new clothes! Cute notebooks and pens for school, just like the other kids had! But…we didn’t have the money… Even when the kids scribbled on her school shoes, she just kept using them and didn’t tell me… She told me she didn’t really want to go on the field trip, either. But I made her go because I had to work that day… I felt more at ease sending Mana to school than having her at home!” Makiko’s voice was like a howl. In her arms, Mana stiffened. “All the kids who bullied her dying, that’s just them paying the price! They got what they deserved! She survived, isn’t that what’s important? It had to be divine intervention. Everyone else says so, too! Mana is a miracle child. She didn’t just happen to survive because she was bullied—she was saved!” “That’s just what you want to believe!” In a tone as fierce as Makiko’s, Takatsuki shouted back. Makiko’s face was strained. Takatsuki, his eyes fixed firmly on that face, kept yelling. “You should have never turned your daughter into this ‘Miracle Girl’! As her mother, you should have protected her, gotten her treatment, and helped her live a healthy life! So why… Why would you start something like this instead?!” As the mother of the “Miracle Girl of Okutama,” Makiko entertained visitors, she accepted countless gifts. She made her daughter an object of worship. It wasn’t the same as a religion, not really. It wasn’t that organized. But there was no doubt that they had amassed a wildly devoted following—just like the hayarigami of old. “…I didn’t. It wasn’t me who started it. It was someone else.” Those words tumbled out of Makiko’s mouth. At the same time, tears spilled over her face. “An old woman we met in the hospital, she looked at Mana and said, ‘You were the only one spared in the accident, right? You must have been protected by the gods. Please let me pray over you.’ Other people saw her and came over to do the same thing. They kept saying, ‘Bless you, bless you.’ At first…I didn’t really understand. But after that, more people came… They even started showing up at our house. They brought us food and money…” Hayarigami were created out of the blue, at some random time, by some random person. This is a god. Those who pray to it shall receive wealth and longevity. It wasn’t done with malice—just out of the desire for some kind of divine protection. People were always longing for the divine. For a convenient deity they could implore, pray to, and feel gratified by. “I felt embarrassed by it at first, but then it made me happy. No one had ever paid any attention to our family before. But suddenly, we were adored. People gave us incredible sums of money with kind faces, telling us to use it for our living expenses… Seeing that made me think, Mana is a miracle child, after all. A child who brings blessings into our lives. Since I didn’t have to leave the house to work anymore, I could stay by her side all the time. And before long, one of our customers came to us and said, ‘I have a house in Okutama that’s vacant. Why don’t you move into it? This child has a deep connection with that place, so it might increase her spiritual power.’ I would have been happy to move anywhere… I hated that tiny, old apartment. But Okutama of all places? And just around the corner from the site of the accident, no less? But then I thought—maybe that would be even better. A place where we could look down on all the brats who bullied my daughter. Somewhere we could show off how we live now to the fools who looked down on us! Mana is touted as the ‘Miracle Girl’! I wanted those dead kids to know! Look at her now, she’s practically a god!” Holding Mana in an iron grip, Makiko shrieked, her face twisted with tears and laughter at once. Takatsuki shook his head. “Doing that… Making her lies a reality… That’s what made Mana lose her voice.” “What…?” Makiko said, expression hardening. Takatsuki replied in a soft voice. “You should have asked Mana for the truth. You should have made her tell you that she wasn’t on that bus. I’m sure she really did want to say something. But you made her into the Miracle Girl, so Mana swallowed her words. Those words clogged up her throat—so she couldn’t speak at all.” “What…” Makiko looked down at the girl in her arms. Bit by bit, her hardened expression crumbled. “I…did this? I’m the reason you don’t speak…? That can’t be… It can’t…” Then Makiko completely broke down. Her mouth went slack, and a small cry escaped her lips. Looking exactly like her daughter, Makiko dissolved into tears. She had probably been turning her eyes away from the truth the entire time. The possibility that Mana hadn’t been on the bus. When she thought about Mana’s backpack and her shoes, she had probably realized what happened right away. But she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Instead, Makiko put her faith in the words of the well-meaning people surrounding them. She dismissed the truth that had for a moment made itself known to her, not realizing that doing so would result in Mana withdrawing into herself. Mana raised her head. She looked up at her sobbing mother, still battling tears of her own. Then she glared sharply at Takatsuki and shook free of her mother’s arms. She ran into the next room. She was barely gone for a second before she came back, holding the birdcage in her hands. Takatsuki’s whole body went rigid. Her face scarlet, Mana lifted the cage into the air. She shoved the bird in Takatsuki’s direction as if she were trying to ward off a vampire with a cross. “Shut up! Shut up, you idiot!” Mana was shouting. Inside the cage, the sparrow flapped its wings. Takatsuki let out a small gasp. He was shaking. “Mama didn’t do anything wrong! She didn’t! I was on the bus! I was on the bus then! I was on it, and I was saved!” Her voice was a high-pitched shriek. It warped and distorted horrifically. She continued to thrust the birdcage out in front of herself. The sparrow kept flapping its wings; the fluttering resounded in the room. Takatsuki, his face contorted painfully at the sound, staggered to his feet. Sasakura put out a hand to stop him, but he shook it off, falling to his knees in front of Mana. Takatsuki looked at the girl through the birdcage and spoke. “…Mana. That’s a lie. Lies can’t go on forever. Even the ‘Miracle Girl’ legend will eventually die out. You can’t keep living this life.” “Shut up, shut up! Be quiet! You’re the liar!” “Mana, I… I know how you feel. I know why you went along with what your mother started. It’s because…if you did, your mother would stay with you.” Mana bit her lip. Tears started to roll down her cheeks once more. Breathing hard, Takatsuki kept talking, frantic. “If you were the Miracle Girl, your mother wouldn’t have to leave the house to work. She would be with you all the time. That must have made you happy… But, you know, Mana? You aren’t a ‘Miracle Girl.’” “…” Mana’s shoulders shook violently. Inside the cage, the sparrow flapped its wings harder than ever. With one hand, Takatsuki clutched at his own head in anguish. With the other, he reached out for Mana. “You’re human. A normal girl, no different from anyone else. You’re not the Miracle Girl… You shouldn’t ever try to become something like a god. Never.” “Shut up!” Mana screamed again. “Get out of here! Stop being mean to Mama, you dummy!” Then, from behind, Makiko wrapped her daughter in a hug. “Mana, that’s enough!” The little girl froze. With Mana and the birdcage in her arms, Makiko pleaded. “I’m sorry, Mana… That’s enough. Let’s stop this. No more… Let’s stop lying. It’s not a good thing to do. Mama was wrong. I was wrong, I’m sorry…” Over and over, Makiko murmured apologies to Mana, who finally let out a tiny sob. The next second, Mana dropped the birdcage to the floor, threw her arms around her mother, and started to wail. The two of them held each other fiercely, crying together, their faces alike. On the floor, the caged sparrow thrashed about, screeching. Slowly, Takatsuki stood up. But his knees gave out almost immediately, and he started to collapse. “Whoa, there!” Sasakura shot to his feet and reached for the professor. Takatsuki fell into his arms like a puppet with its strings cut. Naoya stared, dumbfounded, at the single tear running down Takatsuki’s already unconscious face. He had never seen Takatsuki shout like that before. He had never seen him shed tears, either. Several days later, Naoya was summoned to Takatsuki’s office. When he saw Naoya walk inside, Takatsuki’s smile was thin. “…I’m sorry you had to see me like that the other day.” That day— Takatsuki hadn’t regained consciousness at all on the drive back from Okutama. Naoya was let out in Shinjuku, and he watched Sasakura drive away with Takatsuki in the car. The professor started to speak as he made coffee for Naoya, as he always did. “I made the report to Mr. Kawakami yesterday. I told him it’s not a religion. And he told me his parents started going to a new shrine, so everything is probably all right. A place in Kyoto, I think? Well, the shrines there have a history, at least, so that’s not a problem.” “…It’s like you said. Hayarigami go out of style quickly, don’t they?” “They do. If a more profitable god appears somewhere else, people jump on it. As long as they can get the benefits and good fortune of their choice, they don’t care.” Naoya didn’t know what became of Makiko and Mana after that day. Right after Takatsuki collapsed, their group left. Maybe the two of them closed down the “Miracle Girl” attraction and started living their lives peacefully. That’s what Naoya wanted to believe happened. “…Even you are capable of criticizing someone that harshly, huh, Professor?” Naoya muttered. The Takatsuki that Naoya had known until now was always gentle. He had never once seen the other man vehemently call someone out that way. But then, ever since the beginning of this case, Takatsuki’s behavior had been strange. He had gotten weirdly fixated on a story that normally wouldn’t have appealed to him. And yet, he didn’t act at all like his interest was piqued. Takatsuki had seemed tense the entire time they were at Mana’s house, but Naoya had chalked that up to there being a bird in the home. Perhaps that wasn’t the only cause. There had probably been other reasons as well. There must have been an element to the story that ran Takatsuki’s heart ragged. That’s why he had fainted because of a single small sparrow, which he had said wouldn’t be a problem. Returning to the table with a tray in hand, Takatsuki set the dog mug down in front of Naoya. He sat in the chair at Naoya’s side, pulling his own blue mug toward himself. Coffee and cocoa—the same drinks they always shared in this room. But Takatsuki didn’t take a sip of his cocoa before he started talking. “My mother was the same way. She was like Ms. Makiko.” Naoya’s eyes widened. Staring at the marshmallows slowly dissolving in his cup, Takatsuki continued. “After I went missing, I was found in a place near Kurama, in Kyoto. Kurama is famous for tengu. I had two scars on my back that looked like someone had cut wings off me. Tengu are known for having wings. My mother’s cousin was the first one to say it. ‘Akira was kidnapped by tengu. They were going to turn him into one of them. But for some reason, they sent him back to our world…after they cut off his wings.’ That’s what she said. It sounds absurd, but my mother believed it.” At the time, Takatsuki’s mother had been in a state of considerable distress. Her precious son had disappeared for a month. There were no leads, and even though they searched for him frantically, he didn’t turn up. When he was finally found, he had permanent scars carved into his back. What was more, his eye color and demeanor weren’t what they had been before. He was afraid of birds, his memory was extraordinary, and sometimes, his eyes would turn deep blue. When the police failed to turn up even a single clue about his missing month, they found themselves at an utter loss and decided to close the investigation. They hadn’t provided Takatsuki’s family with any information at all. But his mother wanted to know—what had happened to her son in the time he was gone? After all, people feared what they didn’t understand. They couldn’t help but be anxious about it. She needed some kind of justification, some interpretation, to fill the void in her son’s case—even if that interpretation was nothing more than fantasy. And so she jumped at the story about tengu that was presented to her. “It’s not that I don’t understand how my mother felt. I mean, if it wasn’t tengu, that means I was kidnapped by a person. To think about what I would have been subjected to for a month by a criminal who ultimately peeled off my skin and threw me away… To a parent, that would be horrific.” Takatsuki spoke dispassionately, his lips slightly twisted. “My mother turned me into a living god. The boy who returned from the world of the tengu. She called me the ‘Tengu’s Child.’ She even tried to spread the idea to the people around her. Her father was the president of a large company, which he would eventually hand over to her husband. So she did a lot of socializing with the wives of company executives and business partners… They would spend the whole day at the salon drinking tea and chatting, and my mother would try to spread the word about the Tengu’s Child.” Takatsuki’s mother might have done that because she wanted other people to share in her delusion. Perhaps she thought that if more people believed in it, it would become the truth. And in no time, faith in the Tengu’s Child tore through the women’s social circle. Just like things had spread about the “Miracle Girl of Okutama.” Just like a hayarigami. “But that was my fault, too. At first, I cooperated with the whole thing. I listened to the people who came to me to talk, I settled their worries, I gave them advice, I helped them find what they were missing. Even though all of it was just things I came up with in my own head. I deliberately acted as if I were some kind of sacred, divine being who had all the answers.” “…Why did you do that?” “Because it made my mother happy.” Takatsuki wrapped both of his hands around his mug. His expressionless face looked just a little like Mana’s had. “I just wanted her to tell me ‘You’re amazing, Akira.’ That’s all.” The smell of cocoa was wafting gently through the air. Takatsuki stared down at the drink, savoring nothing but its scent. “This is why my father still squashes any articles that appear about me in the weekly news. Belief in the Tengu’s Child was present only in a very small community that was centered around my father’s company. If my father wanted something kept quiet, it probably wouldn’t ever get out. But he’s still afraid of it happening. Because to him, the whole thing is an embarrassment to the family. And so Iinuma’s article had gotten caught in Takatsuki’s father’s surveillance web and effortlessly crushed. “…But, as my mother tried fanatically to spread the story, I became more and more afraid. I told her, ‘I’m not a god. I’m done. I can’t behave the way you want me to anymore.’” But Takatsuki’s mother couldn’t accept that. She had become such an anxious, sensitive person. She took Takatsuki’s words as a rejection. Feeling spurned by her son, she rushed to turn the tables on him. There was no way her own son would say something like that to her. Her gentle boy would never reject her that way. So—this child must be an impostor. That’s what she thought. “My own biological mother asked me ‘Who the hell are you?’” Who are you? Give me back my son. You’re an impostor. My son is actually somewhere else. Half-crazed, she repeated those words over and over, until eventually, she started ignoring the boy who was right in front of her. “…Maybe ‘ignoring’ isn’t the right word. It’s more like, she stopped seeing me.” “Stopped seeing…?” “Yes. She stopped perceiving me. Even if I was standing right there, it was like I didn’t exist. She didn’t hear me when I spoke to her, she didn’t react if I touched her—to my mother, I was invisible.” His father, unable to bear it, sent Takatsuki to live abroad with a relative. But his mother never returned to her right mind. She believed her son was still missing. The son who existed in this world was nothing but an impostor. Takatsuki stared down quietly at his mug of cooling cocoa. “But…I mean, what else could I have done? I was so scared. My mother treated me like a god, like a tengu. But tengu aren’t gods, they’re winged monsters. I became increasingly unsure of whether I was a human, or a god, or a monster… Every dream I had was a nightmare.” Naoya remembered the dream Takatsuki had told him about before—the one where his back split open and black wings grew out of it. A nightmare where he was reduced to a grotesque, inhuman monster. “I think my father made the right decision, sending me to live with a distant relative. I don’t know how I would have ended up if I had remained in that house. My relative is a really good person. A bit strange, though.” “So…someone like you?” “Ah-hah, perhaps.” Finally, a definite smile surfaced on Takatsuki’s face. He brought the mug he had been cradling in his hands to his mouth at last. He took a single sip of cocoa, breathing out a small sigh afterward as if soothed by the sweetness. “Despite all that, I think I’ve been blessed. Even though I’ve been distanced from my parents, I have that relative, and KenKen—people who allowed me to be human. You know, Fukamachi, that’s why you need to find someone like that for yourself.” “Huh?” The topic of conversation suddenly shifted to Naoya, and he blinked at the professor in surprise. Takatsuki looked at Naoya with his gentle, dark brown eyes. “I worry, sometimes, when I look at you. Because it’s like looking at a version of myself, in the past.” “…What are you talking about?” Was he trying to say that at present Naoya was like Takatsuki used to be? When Naoya was sick, Takatsuki had gone out of his way to take care of Naoya at his house. He had done that because he knew Naoya wouldn’t voluntarily turn to anyone for help. Takatsuki had probably been like that, too, once. “I said before, didn’t I? You and I are walking the line between reality and the next world. If we mess up, we might tumble down over that line. If that happens, I don’t think we’ll be human anymore. To prevent that, we need to tether ourselves to this world as much as possible.” “Tether… It’s not like we’re ghosts.” “It’s the same principle. I mean, that’s how the dead stay in this world,” Takatsuki said. “Ah, or maybe ‘tethered’ isn’t the right way to put it. Right, okay, so basically, I’m saying you need to find lots of things you love. Something you like, something that’s fun, something you can think of as precious—we have to have a lot of those things. They are what keeps us connected to this world… They let us know it’s going to be okay, even when we have bad dreams.” “…Oh. Is that why you’re always telling me to make friends and memories and stuff?” Takatsuki smiled and nodded at Naoya’s words. “I mean, didn’t you have a little fun at that barbecue we had in the summer? And when we went to Yanaka with Miss Ruiko and KenKen? Oh, and the limestone cave! That was fun, right? We even took a picture!” “Yeah, that awkward one.” “Don’t say that! It’s a precious memory of our time!” Even so, Naoya couldn’t help but think it was a pretty bad photo. Clearing his throat a little as if to bring the conversation back to heel, Takatsuki went on. “You know, Fukamachi, I think your ability makes living in this world really difficult. Because it was a power given to you to make you lonely. But you can’t let it do that. Don’t turn your back on this world completely. You aren’t alone.” “…Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be saying that?” “Of course not. You have me, at least.” Takatsuki’s smile was bright. “I told you—there’s no way I’m going to let you go. It’s okay. I’m never going to let you be alone.” Naoya stared at Takatsuki’s grin—and, without meaning to, let out a deep sigh. “…Why would you say something like that when you can’t guarantee it…?” “Hey now! What’s with that nasty expression?! I’m pretty sure I just said something really nice!” Looking vexed, Takatsuki slapped his hand against the table. Naoya brought his mostly room-temperature coffee to his mouth and gulped it down. Even though he had said there were no guarantees, he knew what Takatsuki had just said wasn’t a lie. Takatsuki really believed it. Although, Naoya had recently come to realize that just because Takatsuki didn’t tell lies didn’t mean he was entirely trustworthy. This man was unexpectedly cunning. Instead of lying, he simply didn’t say the whole truth. Naoya knew that, much like himself, even though Takatsuki made a show of being personable, he had drawn a line around his own heart and mind to keep other people from seeing it. …And yet, Naoya got the sense that this man who didn’t share anything important with others had divulged quite a bit of himself today. Did that mean Takatsuki had welcomed Naoya inside his walls? That thought made Naoya happy, somehow. Of course, that was just Naoya’s own interpretation of things. But it meant that Naoya had let down his guard enough around Takatsuki that he could hope it was true. The lines they had drawn around themselves to keep others out. Even if those lines never disappeared, it might be all right to let them cross. So that, while they walked side by side along the border between reality and the next world, they could at least keep each other facing toward the light. Takatsuki, who had been pouting like a sad puppy in Naoya’s direction for a while, got out of his seat and went over to the bookshelf. He squatted down, rummaging through the space at the bottom where a cardboard box was kept as a sort of storage space. “What are you doing, Professor?” “I just realized I’m a little hungry. I’m pretty sure Miss Yui keeps her snack stash around here— Ah, found it! Look, there’s chocolate rice crackers, and cheese ones, too. You can have the cheese ones, Fukamachi, since they’re not sweet.” “…Is it okay to just eat them without asking?” “It’s fine, I’ll make sure to buy her more later.” Takatsuki came back to the table with the bags of snacks in hand. The large bag full of individually wrapped square chocolate crackers had been opened and subsequently clipped shut, but the bag of cheese snacks was untouched. Naoya accepted it when it was handed to him, even though he wondered if it really was all right to eat them. Blissfully stuffing his mouth with chocolate, Takatsuki seemed to already have returned to his usual state. Watching Takatsuki out of the corner of his eye, Naoya felt it was hard to believe that this man was ever like him. The Takatsuki he knew was always cheerful and having fun—though that might be the result of Takatsuki actively searching for things that made him happy. If that was true, did that mean Naoya could be like him someday? He tried imagining it for a moment, then internally shook his head. He just couldn’t picture himself with a big, friendly, puppy-dog smile. But, Naoya thought, if he could end up with a lot of things to “tether” him to this world, as Takatsuki put it, that wouldn’t be so bad. The truth was…he still had that photo they took in the limestone cave on his phone.