I wonder what Shirayuki was.
That’s what I thought about in the pitch-blackness.
My image of Shirayuki was a woman with long white hair, standing in the center of a pond illuminated by cold moonlight on a silent night.
“Cast a bell for the temple, set it at the foot of the mountain, and toll this bell thrice daily, startle me, and so force me to recall our promise.”
A commanding voice spilling from sensual red lips.
It resembled Maki’s voice. My voice and Tohko’s as we read Demon Pond aloud played over that and made the voice multilayered.
The darkness of the night shivered with cold.
“…My sex dreams of liberty. It desires free will. It yearns to be selfish.”
“If you were, you would forget the promise and attempt to fill the seven highways of the Northwest with the waters of your little pond.”
Sealed within the bell, which her gaze never left, the desire for revenge, felt by a creature whose freedom had been stolen, burned in a pale fire like demon’s breath.
“In the name of my freedom, the lives of the human cattle of the world count as nothing. But I will not shirk the promise, I will not break the vow. I will not allow them to forget our vow, however. Neglect not to ring the temple bell that you may attempt to remind me of it.”
“Ring the bell, ring the bell forever,” Shirayuki repeated. That was proof of the vow. Don’t forget. Ring the bell. Ring the bell. Ring the bell.
When I woke up, I felt a stabbing pain at my temples.
Where was I?!
I leaped to my feet in a panic.
A wooden ceiling, mat flooring, sliding paper doors—a clean, elegant room in a traditional inn? I had been put to bed in a futon on the floor made up with white sheets that smelled of sunlight.
“So you’re awake.”
The door opened and a tall adult man wearing a suit entered. It was Takamizawa from Maki’s house. He’d brought me to the villa. What was he doing here?!
Perhaps the effects of the drug I’d inhaled before passing out were still lingering, because my thoughts refused to come together. I felt as if I were still dreaming. The sound of trees rustling rang in my ears.
“I apologize for using such aggressive methods. Everything will be over quite soon.”
His gentle tone didn’t suit this bizarre situation at all. My heart thrummed even harder and I grew disoriented.
“What’s going to be over? What’s going to happen to me?”
Outside, I heard rain.
Takamizawa smiled placidly to calm me down.
“I will send you to your home in Tokyo, perhaps as early as tomorrow, so there’s no need to be concerned. I will guarantee the safety of Tohko Amano as well, of course. Actually, I meant to go up to the house to get you, but…the plan changed slightly and I suppose I caught you off guard. I’m truly sorry for that.”
“Did Maki order you to kidnap me? What is she trying to do?”
Though I glared at him, the smile stayed on Takamizawa’s face.
“I can’t answer that,” he replied in a kind, placid voice, though there was force to it.
Several minute tremors ran down my spine and an uncomfortable sweat covered my palms. Beyond the white paper walls, the rain picked out a subdued melody.
“Excuse me. A guest has arrived.”
“A guest?”
Takamizawa’s face looked just a touch suspicious at the message a waitress brought him. He gave me another calm look and said, “I’ll bring your dinner later,” then closed the sliding door and left with the waitress.
I was left by myself.
What should I do?
I knew I wasn’t in any physical danger. If I just waited here obediently, I would be taken home safe and sound.
Wasn’t that best?
I didn’t need to get involved in this ridiculous situation any further. I wasn’t suited for suspense or for adventure.
And he’d even told me he would guarantee Tohko’s safety.
Ah, but Tohko would go out and stick her nose into danger. If she were to run wild the way she always did and something were to happen—
There was a flash of heat in my brain and a sharp pain coursed through it, as if I had been pierced.
I just couldn’t do it!
I had to get back to the mansion!
I got out of the bed and opened the door. Takamizawa wasn’t in the next room. I didn’t see my shoes so I gave up and went out into the hall in my slippers.
A waitress walked up to me and my heart somersaulted.
“Is something the matter?”
“Uh, umm…where are your baths?”
“Oh, you mean the hot springs? They’re…”
The waitress showed me the way.
Outside, a fine rain was falling. At the entrance to the covered walkway, I told her, “I can find it from here,” and she left me on my own.
When I was sure that I could no longer see her, I went down the walkway in my slippers, then lost myself among the trees and murkiness in the garden before I ran off.
Luckily for me, the town was a narrow strip, so when I reached a major road, I could pretty much guess how to get back to the mansion.
The road was dark, but it was still only drizzling so I thought I could work with this.
I hurried forward in my slippers, although they made it harder to walk.
As it turned out, things started to get bad after I left the town for the mountain itself. The fact that there were no lights to illuminate my path utterly crushed me for some reason. I had been raised in the city, where having light even at night was taken for granted.
The absolute blackness that fell overhead obliterated my vision in the darkness and the outlines of objects were indistinct—even with my arms stretched out I was engulfed in the eerie blackness. The total darkness reminded me of primeval nights, thriving even now in the mountain.
It was inky black whichever way I turned. The rain-slicked faces of the leaves would glint every now and then, but other than that I couldn’t see anything. It was as though I was groping my way forward with my eyes closed.
I would get smacked suddenly on the cheek by a tree branch, or ivy would dangle in front of my face and I would think it was a snake and jump back, or my foot would catch on a root poking out of the ground—the fundamental fear of the unseen made me choke and threatened to crush my chest.
Unfortunately for me, the rain intensified, the ground turned to mud, and my vision blurred. Even my sense of hearing was frustrated by the sound of the pounding rain. My soaked body grew colder and colder, and though it was summer, I was shuddering with cold as if I had gone out into the middle of winter in only a T-shirt. My fingers and toes were even getting numb.
My throat tightened, my breathing intensified, and I thought my heart would tear in half.
The cold rain stabbed at my skin. From time to time, the water that had collected on the leaves cascaded down like waterfalls.
I had gotten small cuts on my arms and face, the only spots where warmth gathered. The bottoms of my slippers got soaked by the rain and started slipping off. There were plenty of times I thought I would fall over.
Light flashed over my head and a rumble rolled across the sky.
Lightning!
Terror coursed down my spine.
I’d be in danger if I was under a tree. Plus I’d heard that being wet made it easier for lightning to strike you. But with the rain falling on the mountain at night, where could I go?
There was nowhere to run—
Lightning cracked explosively and I flinched. I’d left my despair behind for surging anger.
What in the world was I doing? I didn’t know the way back. This was an utter disaster. I was out of my mind. Crazy!
Wouldn’t it be best to stay put until it got lighter at dawn? I was tired. I didn’t want to walk anymore.
Even so, when I recalled the sad look that I had seen Tohko wearing that day at dawn, my feet moved forward of their own accord.
Tohko didn’t know that I’d gone out. She’d suddenly lost track of me, so I knew she would be worried. She could be making that heart-wrenching face again. She could be sad somewhere.
She could be terrified, frightened by a ghost. Because even though she put on a brave face and acted tough, she was actually so unbearably scared of ghosts that she forced her way into my room and snuggled into my bed every night.
She’d been the same during the Amemiya thing, too. She would declare that there’s no such thing as ghosts, but when we were shut into that basement room together, she’d crouched on the floor and buried her face in her knees and said, “I’m afraid of ghosts,” and wept like a child.
I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you, Tohko. I mean, you fly off the handle so quickly and do crazy things, so…I was worried.
The curious, bitter sweetness I’d felt when I had knelt down in front of her and comforted her was slowly resurfacing in me.
I wasn’t confident or optimistic enough to think I could protect Tohko when something happened. Trying to protect someone other than myself was an arrogant idea. I lacked that willpower and strength.