On the way home, Mitsuhiro and Miyoko were too tired to talk much. Compared to their irritable exchange in the dining room, though, they were much calmer. Relief was the dominant emotion in their minds.
And perhaps because of that, by the time they were back home:
“Don’t worry.”
The voice echoed in his mind again when he laid Sae down on the bed. This time, his rational side didn’t argue or try to think logically about it.
Miyoko looked at the AC remote control to make sure it was set to the usual temperature. “I’m so tired,” she said, resting her forehead on Mitsuhiro’s chest. He hugged Miyoko around the shoulders, took her to the bedroom, and put her to bed.
Leaving her asleep without another word, he returned to the dining room, sat down in a chair, and sighed. If he had anything alcoholic at home, he definitely would’ve poured himself a glass right now. He even thought about running down to the convenience store to buy something.
But he had something to do first. Mitsuhiro finished the sparkling water, now wholly flat after being left alone for so long, and picked up his bag. He took out the amulet he received from Yoshio Tamai from the inside pocket and placed the bag back on the floor.
Untying the string on the charm, he opened the little pouch and found a piece of neatly folded Japanese paper inside, protected by a thicker sheet inside the pouch. The Japanese paper reminded him of a seal, inscribed with “Tamai Appeasement Protective Amulet” in Japanese characters, written cursive-style with red ink. When he unfolded this paper, he saw a tiny wooden tablet inside, inscribed with the character for appease, 鎭, in red with an intricate pattern stamped around it in red ink.
Mitsuhiro took the paper with the wooden tag and went to the still-running exhaust fan in the kitchen. He placed both of them atop one of the induction burners and took out a roll of aluminum foil. Tearing a large piece off, he folded it several times into a thick square. After that, he folded the edges up a bit to create a makeshift ashtray and put the paper and wooden tablet inside.
But how to burn it? He searched around the kitchen a bit before finally finding their long-necked lighter. He had bought it last summer for barbecue and firework purposes. There wasn’t anything else on hand to light a fire with. He wasn’t sure if any lighter fluid was still inside, but when he pushed the button, it clicked and created a small flame. He directed it toward the foil ashtray and brought it close to the paper. It caught fire, fluttering and burning brightly. The fire spread to the wooden tablet, making a tiny crackling sound. The two objects promptly became a single ball of fire, and the rising smoke was sucked into the exhaust fan.
Mitsuhiro placed the lighter next to the stove and waited for the whole thing to burn out. It didn’t even take a minute. When he saw that they were both a pile of ash, he took a pair of disposable chopsticks and a small glass teapot from the pantry.
He put some water into the teapot and poured a small amount onto the ashes. Then he stirred the ashes with the chopsticks to dissolve them in the water.
—What am I even doing?
He was starting to have doubts, but he dismissed the thought, reasoning that he was just doing what had to be done. He took up the chopsticks and opened the microwave door. Immediately, he sensed that strange odor drifting out.
He then rubbed some of the ash on the tip of the chopsticks against the back wall of the microwave. Yoshio Tamai had told him that any sort of writing would do, but he decided to write the character said to be most effective.
鎭
There was only a little ash there, so it didn’t leave much of a mark. He was just tracing the character for appease on the wall more than anything else.
But even so, he could tell that something was different. That strange smell was gone. And from that point on, Mitsuhiro gave up trying to understand how this worked.
He took the ashtray and went to the front door, being careful not to spill the leftover ashes. After mixing them on the tip of a chopstick, he wrote the same character on the upper part of the front door. He couldn’t make it too big—Miyoko would be weirded out and wipe it off—but he still wrote it anyway. Then he did the same on the corner of one wall of his condo’s hallway, Sae’s door, and his bedroom door.
Returning to the dining room, he placed the ashtray and chopsticks on the table. He hadn’t added much water to start with, so the ashes were almost dry now. Mitsuhiro folded the ashtray in half to prevent the contents from spilling out, then folded it again to shrink it down. He then put the small foil packet into the little pouch that originally contained the amulet.
He was about to throw away the chopsticks, but before he did, he took a small box cutter from the shelf and scraped the ash off each stick. He put the ash-covered wood chips in the amulet pouch, tied up the string, opened his bag on the floor, and put it in a pocket.
Back in the kitchen, he replaced the cutter and lighter and turned down the exhaust fan. Then he went into the hallway and took a deep breath. Satisfied that there was no smell remaining, he let out a deep, relieved exhale.
“Well done, Mitsuhiro. You’re such a good kid.”
The voice came from behind him. He turned around with wide eyes and saw a man standing there. He smiled with joy.
“Thanks, Dad.”