Kagekake had been a little village about two hours’ drive from the nearest big city. However, it had lost that name a little more than ten years ago, before Kakeru was even born. It had merged with other villages in the area, becoming just part of a larger town, and the name Kagekake Village had disappeared from the map. In spite of that, it wasn’t always easy to remember what the place was called now. Kakeru didn’t live there himself, and his parents still called it by its old name: Kagekake.
“We’re just more used to using that name,” his mom told him on the car ride into town. “Some of the bus and train stations still have Kagekake on them, too. Same with the schools. It’s kind of a pain when we send Grandma packages and end up getting the address wrong, though!”
Kakeru’s mother had been born in Kagekake Village. And her mother—Kakeru’s grandmother—still lived there, in a typical “quaint little house in the country,” the kind you saw in movies and anime. Kakeru always looked forward to visiting her in the summer, and this year was no different. He was going to go hunting for bugs in the mountains, fish in the rivers, and eat tons of watermelon slices cooled in the old well in her backyard…and then, when the Obon festival came around, he’d eat fresh corn on the cob and play with his friends Ryou and Ecchan, and they’d set off fireworks Kakeru’s grandma had given him… The few days he spent there every summer were filled with happy memories.
There’d been a sad memory last summer, too.
But that was okay. Kakeru would still be able to see his other friends this year. He wondered how they were all doing—Ryou, Ecchan, and the rest…
The family car continued along the highway, a stream of other cars passing them in the other direction.
“It’s strange to be saying this now, but it’s kind of a shame Kagekake Village lost its name,” Kakeru’s dad said from the passenger seat with a sigh. “A place’s name helps to tell people its history. It’s not something you should change willy-nilly.”
“Kagekake’s kind of a weird name, though. What does it mean?” Kakeru asked, raising his voice a little so he could be heard over the TV in the back of the car. It was his mother who answered the question.
“Well, kage means ‘shadow,’ and kake means ‘to be missing something.’ So it’s a place where shadows go missing. There’s lots of old stories about people losing their shadows in the village. Always have been, especially on bright summer days when the shadows are that much darker. People look down at their feet and see little chunks of their shadows are gone… Not that I’ve ever seen anything like that myself.”
Her words sent a little chill down Kakeru’s spine. He’d never seen a shadow with pieces of it missing, either. But it reminded him of something he had seen.
“Huh. So that’s part of the village’s history? Isn’t it just a regular spooky story?” he asked, trying to shrug it off and talking a little faster than he meant to.
His mother laughed and said “I guess so” as the car entered a tunnel that cut right through a local mountain.
When Kakeru’s family was back in the open, they drove across the bridge they always took to get to Grandma’s house. In Kakeru’s mind, this was the real entrance to Kagekake Village. In times gone by, the river below them had been a barrier that marked where the village ended and the outside world began. His family crossed that barrier every year when they drove across this bridge.
On the other side…
Huh?
All of a sudden, Kakeru felt…weird.
He leaned over and looked out the window. It was the middle of the day, and the sun was shining bright, but the town looked unusually dark and shadowy. That wasn’t the only strange thing, either. All the people were staring at him.
Whether they were waiting at bus stops, standing in supermarket parking lots, or just walking down the street, everyone’s head turned toward Kakeru and his parents as they passed by. And their eyes all looked so…empty. There was something about the way the people moved that seemed unnatural.
At that point, the cause behind this was still a mystery.
Finally, the family arrived at Grandma’s house. Kakeru’s parents opened the car doors, and summer rushed into the cool, air-conditioned interior. Warm summer country air, carrying the scent of trees and rivers and the earth with it. It should have been comforting, but this year, it gave Kakeru goose bumps.
“What’s the matter, son? Come on, help us out with the bags,” his dad called to him.
Kakeru reluctantly got out and turned his face to his father. “Hey… Didn’t the people in town seem a little weird today?”
“…You noticed that, too, huh?”
So it wasn’t just him. He hadn’t been seeing things. He was about to ask if his mom had also noticed, but she had already walked up to the door and rung the bell. Grandma didn’t answer, so Kakeru’s mom went around to the store entrance to look for her. Kakeru’s grandma ran a little toy store, which was built onto the side of her house.