The summer festival that Hikaru had eagerly been counting down the days for wasn’t a particularly grand affair. It was held at Nisa Shrine, a small shrine in Kubitachi, and it didn’t involve any special rituals. It was a run-of-the-mill festival in a village where the number of children had drastically decreased. It had some stalls and a Bon Odori dance but wasn’t at any sizable scale, making it nothing more than a modest annual summer festival.
However, because there were so few children, many of the stalls offered free food to kids.
“It’s the festival! The summer festival!”
Hikaru looked around in amazement while taking in the smells of all the food drifting about from the rows of stalls and the sights of lanterns glowing overhead. Occasionally, he let out a “Wow!” in awe, his cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Yer feet ain’t hurtin’, Kaoru?” he asked. His voice sounded cheerful and full of energy, almost as if it were colored pink or yellow.
“…I’m fine.”
Kaoru was dressed in a neatly hemmed floral yukata with a matching hair ornament—she even brought a drawstring bag with her—but she was wearing plain old sneakers. She had been forced into them right before leaving for the festival because if she came in traditional sandals, she would quickly start whining about her sore feet and might start crying.
As they went along, an older woman from the neighborhood called out to Kaoru.
“Oh my! Is that Kaoru?! That yukata looks darlin’ on ya!”
This made Kaoru hunch her shoulders in discomfort. Kaoru was a prime example of the kind of person who acted bold and confident at home but became shy and awkward in front of others.
“That’s nice, huh?” Yoshiki said, playfully nudging Kaoru, who was blushing.
Just then, a lively voice called out from a nearby stall.
“Heeey, you kids there!! Have some takoyaki!”
The person handing Kaoru a tray of takoyaki with a friendly smile was Mr. Kameyama, an older man Yoshiki knew well. Every year, he had some sort of stall at the summer festival, and this year, he was running a takoyaki stand.
“Wow! Thanks a lot!”
Hikaru grinned ear to ear, unlike Kaoru, who meekly accepted the takoyaki. Kaoru had her way of doing things, and Hikaru had his.
“Ya sure about this, Mr. Kameyama?” Yoshiki asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure! Kids eat for free! It’s hot, so be careful eatin’ it!”
“He’s really doin’ us a kindness here. You oughtta say thanks, too, Kaoru.”
Following Yoshiki’s encouragement, Kaoru finally managed to softly murmur, “Th-thanks…” Even though her gratitude didn’t come out very clearly, Mr. Kameyama didn’t seem bothered at all.
A cross pendant hanging around the man’s neck glinted in the light and shimmered from the heat rising off the takoyaki grill. His son, Masa, who was busily frying up takoyaki beside him, also wore a similar pendant.
Yoshiki felt like he’d also seen crosses on the father-son pair at last year’s summer festival where they’d complained to one another about how hot it was and how the temperature wasn’t getting any better, even at night. Back then, Yoshiki thought those crosses were just accessories, but now they somehow seemed to hold a different significance.
However, that odd feeling was quickly swept off somewhere by the bustling energy of the festival. From the throngs of people coming and going along the stall-lined path to the shrine, Yoshiki overheard someone pointing at his group and saying, “Oh, that’s Tsujinaka’s…”
“…Little sister,” said someone else. “What’s up with her? She still ain’t goin’ to school, right?”
“Ah, what’s that girl’s mother doin’?”
Even with the festival music playing and the fun and lively atmosphere, those people’s voices were strangely clear.
Yoshiki glanced at Kaoru. She had her head down and was holding the tray of takoyaki in both hands, staring down at the fine whisps of steam rising from her food.
It was unclear if Hikaru had noticed what just happened, but he looked over at Yoshiki and said, “Hey! Don’t you wanna get some shaved ice? Where can I get some again?”
“…It’s around the shrine grounds.”
Before Yoshiki even finished speaking, Hikaru said, “Right. Let’s go,” and started walking. Hikaru grabbed Kaoru’s hand to pull her along, and Kaoru pulled Yoshiki’s.
The whispers of gossip were gradually drowned out by the lively noises of the festival.
In contrast to the path that was crowded with stalls, the stone-paved path leading to the shrine’s courtyard was quiet.
The Nisa Shrine torii gate was illuminated by the red glow of lanterns. The stalls here were sparse, and the festival music was distant.
“What else do they have on the shrine grounds again?” Hikaru asked Yoshiki.
“I think yakisoba an’ stuff…?”
They chatted back and forth, but just as they were about to pass under the torii gate, they heard a distorted crack that sounded like shattering glass.
It was different from the festival music—different from the voices of people enjoying the event.
It was the sound of one thing rejecting something else.
“What…?”
Hikaru had stopped in his tracks just beyond the gate. Visibly confused, Kaoru asked, “What’s wrong?” but Hikaru only stared at his palm in silence.
His eyes then quietly shifted over to the gate.
Yoshiki wondered what the sound they just heard was and why Hikaru couldn’t pass through, but he didn’t need to think very hard about it—he instinctively knew what was happening.
“Ah…sorry. Gotta use the toilet,” Hikaru said. “Go ahead and buy some grub for me.”
He turned on his heel, and without looking back, he walked away from the torii gate with his right hand clenched tightly.
Yoshiki saw Hikaru’s mouth twist in irritation. He also noticed Hikaru’s thin lips mouth the words “What a pain in the ass…”
✦ ✦ ✦
As lively as the festival music over by the path to the shrine was, it could be heard just faintly in the background before being drowned out by Hajime Takeda pounding the table and yelling, “That’s what I’m sayin’!”
Tetsu Mikasa was half expecting the teacup in front of Takeda to topple over, but it merely wobbled slightly.
“It’s all ’cause no one took care of things after Kouhei Indou died!!” Takeda shouted.
Mikasa had his arms folded and remained silent. He couldn’t help but be somewhat impressed by Takeda’s audacity to shout so loudly in someone else’s home.
As the head priest of Nisa Shrine, Mikasa was committed to the long-established traditions of their village, but Takeda, a landowner in Kubitachi, was even more entrenched in the village’s customs. To put it bluntly, he was trapped by them. Mikasa slumped his shoulders, realizing he felt a similar burden.
“Yeah, but even so…takin’ care of it fell under the Indous’ jurisdiction, so no one knows much about it,” said Mikasa. “Kouhei’s son went missin’ for over a week, and he came back, but he prob’ly didn’t complete the ritual.”
“Kouhei used to say this sorta thing couldn’t go on forever… So maybe that time’s finally come?”
Mikasa had no clear answer to offer.
The silence in the room only seemed to irritate Takeda further, who turned his gaze to the third man there, Yoshihiko Matsushima, who had been quietly drinking liquor the entire time.
“Hey! How can ya be drinkin’ at a time like this?! Yer a real jerk, ya know that?!”
“Ah, c’mon… Ha-ha! I’ll be drinkin’ highballs till the day I meet my maker!”
Matsushima, whose face was flushed and speech was slightly slurred, was the president of Matsushima Sawmill and a central figure in Kubitachi’s forestry industry. He had always been a laid-back and unhurried man, but once he got some alcohol in him—especially highballs—it only made things worse. He was the kind of guy who would bring a bottle of booze to a serious gathering like this one.
“And is that thing really gone from them mountains? Did that thing ever really exist in the first place?”
“Ya dang fool!” snapped Mikasa.
No longer able to hold his tongue, Mikasa glared at Matsushima before Takeda could.
“That thing…is Kubitachi’s burden that’s been passed down since ancient times. It’s the duty of the people of this land to keep it trapped here forever. If we don’t do anythin’, it won’t just be Matsuura, the entire village’s gonna be in a heap’a trouble…”
Mikasa didn’t know why Old Lady Matsuura died, nor did he know why she was the one to go, but if they left the situation unchecked, more deaths would follow. That was the one thing he was sure of. Now that Kouhei Indou was no longer around, it was up to Mikasa, Takeda, and Matsushima to prevent that from happening.
After taking a deep breath through his nose, Mikasa looked at Takeda. “Hajime, think we oughtta give Tanaka a call?”
Scowling, Takeda nodded and said, “…I already did. I really didn’t want to, but I had no other choice.” He deeply furrowed his brows as small beads of sweat—possibly a product of stress or just from the heat—trickled down his face.
The truth of the matter was that Mikasa didn’t want to see Tanaka so often, either. That man’s arrival basically meant that serious trouble was brewing in their area.
“That’s right. We had no other choice.”