“Be careful with the hole.”
Araki said it suddenly on the way back from the Imperial Garden to Shibuya Station. Mitsuhiro stopped the car at a red light and looked at Araki in the passenger seat.
“What do you mean…?”
Deep down, he was nervous that even little conversations like this would lead to more fees, but Araki didn’t mention anything about money, thankfully.
“The hole where the bone ash is stored. I understand you’ve been making a number of trips to the East Wing ritual hall.”
After that little ritual at the pond, Araki had been somewhat friendlier for some reason. Once the light turned green, Mitsuhiro sped away, wondering if Araki saw him as a walking ATM or something. If so, it wasn’t welcome news.
“Whatever you do, don’t touch the edges of the hole or go inside. Normally, no one but the mi-keshi is allowed to enter the hall. It’s in an unstable phase at the moment.”
This was only fueling Mitsuhiro’s anxiety.
“An unstable phase?”
“We are trying to invite the water god to that ritual hall, but the bone ash accumulated in there doesn’t like it. It’s trying to prevent it by causing a fire in the area.”
“What do you mean…?”
“To put it simply, it’s like it’s trying to create a smoke screen of fire and pestilence to prevent the water god from coming.”
“Um, why would it dislike the god?”
“Those who bring curses into the world refuse to be worshipped. They try to change the rituals into something of their own. All ritual halls require quite a bit of supplication before the gods will actually descend, but the mi-keshi of the water god has left, so there is no begging to be done. That’s why we can’t seal the ritual hall shut.”
Araki sounded like he was implying that it was Mitsuhiro’s fault for freeing Yoshikazu Hara. How was he supposed to know? The accusation rankled, but he just bowed his head a bit behind the wheel, not wanting to upset his passenger.
“I’m sorry. I went too far with what I did. I’m doing everything I can every day, searching for Yoshikazu Hara…”
“No, Mr. Matsunaga, I’m not saying it’s your fault. You were confused by the bone ash, I’m sure. I attempted to calm it down as well, but sadly, I lost sight of Mr. Hara.”
“Calm it down?”
“Calm down the fire. It’s a ritual involving an amulet.”
The term amulet did nothing to restore Mitsuhiro’s confidence. Instead he felt a sense of dread that his savings were about to be completely wiped out. But that wasn’t the concern Araki had.
“What I worry about is that Mr. Hara might be summoned by the water god. Instead of having the water god come to the ritual hall, it’ll be the mi-keshi going to the water god, and then he’ll disappear for good.”
“Like a human sacrifice?” Mitsuhiro blurted out without thinking. He wanted to think that was an exaggeration, but Araki’s nod made his blood freeze. A moment later, he imagined Yoshikazu Hara sinking to the bottom of that pond in the Imperial Garden. He tried to shake the image from his mind, but it was no use. It was like trying to wipe dirt off the windshield with your wipers, only to smear it around even more.
“Blessings and curses from the gods are like a two-sided coin. The further the water god’s mi-keshi moves away from the ritual hall, the wider the hole becomes. That’s because the bone ash is coming out of the ground. Should the edge of that hole reach the shrine in that room, the water god will lose its place of power there, and if that happens, compensation will be necessary.”
So he wasn’t imagining it. The hole was getting bigger. Mitsuhiro was afraid to ask what compensation meant here, so he kept his mouth shut. What if Araki said he had to be the next human sacrifice? It made his heart race.
“It is also necessary to appease the ashes that have left the scene. If the ashes continue to wander around, it could lead to unexpected fires elsewhere. Bone ash, you see, is the essence of the regret held by those we must have pity for.”
“Have pity for?”
“Yes. My father taught me that we must not only fear them and keep them at bay but also take pity on them and appease them.”
“Um, your father worked at Tamai Construction, too?”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m referring to the previous president, Yutaro Tamai. I was actually adopted into the Araki family—my uncle is from that family—and changed my surname afterward. Yoshio Tamai, the current president, is my cousin, who was similarly adopted into the Tamai family.”
Mitsuhiro couldn’t help but ponder this. It sounded like a pair of brothers swapping children or something—not eerie so much as extremely old-fashioned and bizarre to modern sensibilities.
“Um, why did they do that?”
“It’s a custom to avoid disaster.”
He didn’t explain any further, and Mitsuhiro didn’t want to pry into family matters. After passing through a busy intersection, they stopped at the entrance to the even busier construction-site parking lot. As they waited for a line of buses to enter the temporary roundabout, Araki looked at Mitsuhiro.
“Mr. Matsunaga, have you ever been involved in a fire or other disaster?”
“What?”
“You’ve purchased amulets. If you expect to experience a fire, I can burn a fire of my own to appease the spirits.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It’s a kind of ritual, done to subdue the spirits and make offerings. You may fight fire with fire, or subdue them with pure force, or appease them by giving the bone ash something to keep them happy. There are many approaches.”
How much would Araki ask for? How much did he plan to squeeze him for? Mitsuhiro didn’t feel angry about it. Instead, he just felt a helplessness that drained all the strength from his body.