Chapter 22
2. The Lonely God
Is the Gohara residence around here?
When I asked the mother and child I saw at the archive, they casually pointed toward the forest further up the mountain path.
There's no bus beyond this point.
Miyaki and I were now walking along a mountain path where the rustling of leaves and the caws of crows formed a canopy of indistinct noise above our heads.
"Katagishi-san. Did you notice when we were talking to that parent and child earlier? The child's backpack had a name tag that said Mihara."
"Ah, probably this village has families from Ichihara to Juhara."
"Do you think the 'one to ten' in the letter and the 'five' in the memo refer to each of those village families?"
"Most likely. So we just need to go to this Gohara guy's place."
"Something bad is definitely waiting for us... Maybe we shouldn't go."
The deep breath Miyaki let out didn't seem to be just because of the steep slope.
I stopped walking, caught my breath, and looked at Miyaki.
"Miyaki, you don't have to come anymore."
"What are you talking about?"
Her thin eyebrows bent into a worried shape.
"This investigation is mostly personal for me. There's no need for you to get involved."
The sweat soaked into the lining of my suit cooled and clung to my back unpleasantly.
"Besides, from my experience, I doubt this village will just let us through because we say it's an investigation. From here on, I'll use my position as the Rokuhara family's son-in-law. It'd be weird to come with another woman and not my wife."
"...Just say I'm your sister."
"We don't look alike at all."
I tried to laugh, but it didn't come out right.
Miyaki furrowed her brows and lips in thought for a moment, then clapped her hands as she returned to a serious expression.
"Still, I'm coming with you."
"Didn't you hear what I said?"
"I also have thoughts about Territorial Divine Offenses. I want to learn whatever I can."
"What kind of thoughts?"
"It's from before I became your subordinate."
Miyaki's face looked more resigned than rejecting. Probably the same face I make when I talk about Misaki.
"Besides, I can't let a wheezing Katagishi-san go alone. You'd probably get taken out by a simple earthbound spirit."
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and cheeks and let out a sigh.
"The wheezing's because I smoke. The slope's just steep."
"You should quit smoking."
We exchanged a tired laugh and resumed walking up the mountain path.
On the path where only trees had been visible until now, truck tracks were carved into the dirt.
When I looked up, traditional Japanese houses lined both sides of a slightly gentler slope, enclosed by dense hedges and stone walls.
I counted the houses along the winding slope. Ten in total.
A guard dog barked madly from one of the houses, joined by the sound of chickens.
A mini truck rattled down the narrow road barely wide enough for a compact car. Miyaki and I pressed ourselves against a wall to let it pass. As we choked on the exhaust, I felt someone's gaze from above.
A pale-skinned woman around thirty looked down from atop a weedy stone wall. Her narrow eyes and sickly complexion vaguely resembled Rokuhara and the Misaki in my memories.
As I hesitated, my eyes caught a damp wooden nameplate.
"Is this... the Gohara residence?"
The woman returned a puzzled look.
"I... I'm the son-in-law of the Rokuhara family. I came to pay my respects..." As I struggled to form the words in my head, the woman gave a faint, sorrowful smile.
"I see, I see."
Invited in with a gesture, we were led into a yard where only the parking space was paved with asphalt. Even for a sparsely populated village, it felt too easy to be let in despite not being family. Then I recalled Rokuhara's words and wondered if everyone in the village might be related, and shook my head.
In the yard, withered baby's breath and weeds grew sparsely.
"And who is this person?"
Gohara placed her hand on the sliding door and looked at Miyaki.
"My sister."
Miyaki bowed, and the woman smiled back as she opened the door.
The entryway, lined with a tear-off calendar and wooden carvings, was spacious in a country-home sort of way.
"It must have been tough."
"Yes, my wife suddenly fell ill... It's my first time here, so we got a bit lost..."
"No, I mean, the Rokuhara house is gone now, isn't it? Your parents passed away, and most of the relatives' lines have ended too."
Her cold words made me gasp. I knew Misaki's parents had passed, but I hadn't heard about the relatives.
"Yeah... well..."
Gohara turned on the light and walked ahead without emotion. We passed through multiple hallways lined with dimly lit rooms behind paper doors and reached a tatami room that seemed to be the guest room. The heater was on, but the room was so large that a chill lingered in the corners.
"My husband is out, but he'll be back soon, so please relax. You too, sister."
"That's too kind."
Miyaki waved her hand in refusal, but Gohara offered her a cushion.
"You're family now too. Besides, our house is in charge this year, so please let us host you."
"In charge?"
After seating us, Gohara sat across from us in seiza and narrowed her already thin eyes.
"I really thought it was all over. If Rokuhara had ended and we couldn't gather, I didn't know what we'd do. But since you've become family, we can continue. You've really saved us."
A flurry of wings sounded, and the shadow of a bird appeared on the paper sliding door by her shoulder.
"My wife didn't tell me much, but... I heard there are houses from Ichihara to Juhara here?"
Gohara straightened her back and nodded.
"Yes. Whenever we faced danger from plague or disaster, we united and protected each other. Each family is indispensable, like one big family. Outsiders have moved to the base of the mountain, but they're not part of our clan."
Her eyes, as sharp as if cut by a blade, held no light.
As I struggled to respond, the sliding door opened with a loud sound and rapid footsteps followed.
"Oh, excuse me."
The woman rose silently, opened the sliding door, and leaned out.
"Sho-kun, at least say you're home."
A sharp glare returned from the far end of the hallway, and a skinny child peeked out. It was the same child who had thrown me the memo at the archive.
The child glanced at me for a moment, then quickly disappeared into the back.
"Is that your child?"
"A concubine's child. I couldn't have children myself."
Her blunt words left me unable to respond.
"He's a strange one. Already ten, and still can barely speak."
Gohara closed the sliding door and gazed down at us with a mask-like smile.
"The air gets stuffy. Let me open this."
The woman crossed the room and opened the paper door, revealing a garden where only dead grass grew along the veranda.
A crow pecking at the fallen grass roots turned its head and flew off. At the tip of its black wings was a misshapen well reinforced with stone.
Gohara crouched down, picked up a crow feather, and headed toward the well. Miyaki and I slipped on the sandals under the veranda and followed.
"So this is where the well water springs from?"
As Miyaki spoke, Gohara dropped the wet feather into the well.
"The well is dried up. This is where we throw away bad things."
The woman smiled gently. The feather disappeared into the cracked stone, stained by rainwater.
"The village's spring water flows from further upstream. See, there's a marsh over there."
I squinted in the direction she pointed.
"People at the base say there are pests and vermin, but that's a lie. It's a beautiful place."
Between the densely packed tree trunks, a faint mirror-like shimmer could be seen.
"Since you're here, would you like to take a look? It must be boring in the house. I'll have a meal ready by the time you return."
"No, that's..."
As I looked away, I locked eyes with the silhouette on the second floor, darkened by the backlight. It was the same child. From the balcony, those glassy eyes stared down at me. The child hid behind the fluttering laundry and vanished.
Miyaki, who had followed my gaze to the balcony, lowered her eyes to the ground and glanced briefly at the dried-up well.
"Hey, since we're here, want to go check out the marsh?"
I thought she was quick to adapt, but Misaki's voice calling out to Rokuhara in my memory overlapped, and I nodded vaguely.
We exited from behind the house, pushing through branches that scratched our cheeks and sleeves, and arrived at a marsh surrounded by reeds.
The unpaved path had several puddles, and the ground gradually turned to water. If we weren't careful, we'd sink into it.
In the center of the marsh, a fallen tree jutted out like a gravestone.
"This village feels like it's stuck in the pre-war era..."
"First? Second? Or third?"
"Enough with that confusing senility talk."
Miyaki shrugged her shoulders.
The cold air turned into white mist that drifted over the water's surface.
"I don't see any of those poisonous insects or giant snakes the villagers mentioned."
"Might just be a misunderstanding. Their testimonies are all over the place."
"Besides, we still haven't seen the god of this place."
I licked my dry lips. Just the vague idea of a guardian god wasn't enough to grasp the shape of the faith in this land.
"There's probably still more to it."
"Even with the Gohara family. That child from that house..."
"The kid who threw the note, right?"
"There's another one."
I looked back at Miyaki in surprise.
"If it's Sho, then he's a boy, right? They say he was adopted from a mistress because they couldn't have children. But on the balcony, there were clothes and shoes for a young girl hanging out to dry."
I was speechless and simply stared at the marsh.
A family with names from one to ten. A severed connection with the villagers at the base. A sacred spring and a well used to discard filth. I tried to piece it together, but it wouldn't come together cleanly.
So Misaki grew up in a village like this.
When we got married, she casually said, "I finally have a place I can call home."
Even now, I wonder if things could have gone differently if I had asked more back then. But at the time, I felt like she would disappear if I asked.
Suddenly, a slender shadow flitted across the marsh.
Through the legs of withered reeds, a glimpse of pale skin appeared.
A faint bruise on an exposed knee, slender fingers hanging aimlessly near the thigh.
It was terrifying, yet strangely nostalgic. I told myself not to look, but my gaze unconsciously drifted upward.
A fragile, slender neck lifted and turned toward me.
"Katagishi-san?"
Startled by Miyaki's voice, I looked up—no one was there.
In the narrow patch of sky reflected in the muddy water, red clouds drifted and tore apart.
"It's nothing. Let's head back."
I feigned calm and stepped into the muddy path.
The sun had nearly set, and the surroundings were dim.
Darkness seeped through the branches stretched like spiderwebs. Along with it, the villagers' voices began to creep out. Though the houses were clustered, it felt like there were too many voices.
Helping Miyaki, we climbed the slope leading to the Gohara house and opened the back door—only to fall silent.
The yard of the Gohara house, shrouded in darkness, was packed with so many people that even the house's shadow couldn't be seen.
The villagers all turned to look at us at once.
"Welcome back, Rokuhara-san."
The villagers' faces, reflecting the glow of the bonfire, looked like clay dolls painted with orange pigment. All had narrow faces and eerily similar, lifeless expressions.
"What is this...?"
I glanced behind at the path we came from, but a villager had already circled around and blocked our retreat. Pushed from behind, Miyaki and I were guided forward.
"When we heard that Rokuhara-san had returned, everyone from Ichihara to Juhara gathered."
As Gohara nodded graciously, the rest followed suit.
"It was sudden, but I'm glad both of you turned out to be reliable."
"So different from those spineless folks down in the village."
Laughter spread like ripples. When Gohara raised her hand, a blinding light burned my eyes.
"Oh my, sorry."
The woman giggled and turned off the light. In her hand was a flashlight with the switch flipped.
Gohara handed it to me and made sure I held it firmly.
"Should your sister have one too? Is one enough?"
"What are you planning to make us do?"
Miyaki raised her voice sharply, but Gohara just smiled and shook her head. The villagers blocking our way stepped aside.
In front of us was a well, just a pile of stones stacked together.
Apparently, we had been led around to the back side, adjacent to the fence, from the spot we saw earlier in the day.
From the yard, it wasn't visible—but behind the well, a square metal plate was embedded in the ground.
When a man from the village stepped on it, the plate flipped open like a hatch. A smell of dust and iron rust wafted out.
"To become part of the family, we'd like you to go inside and see."
Gohara opened the hatch fully and gestured with her hand.
"See what...?"
"Our guardian god."
Miyaki's profile, seen from the side, stiffened.
"Don't worry. Unlike the people at the base, you two will be fine. We all help soothe the loneliness of our solitary god."
At Gohara's feet, narrowing her hollow black eyes, that child clung to her and stared at me.
"What do we do...?"
Miyaki whispered softly. There was no way to break through this many villagers. And unless we went in, we wouldn't know what was really going on.
"Let's go."
I flipped the switch on the flashlight.
Turning our backs to the villagers wearing the same smile, I stretched my leg toward the rusted iron frame.
When I pointed the flashlight, a staircase spread out within the beam of light.
The moment we were completely underground, the hatch closed above us.
"They'll open this for us later, right?"
"We can only hope."
Only Miyaki's voice and footsteps echoed. The underground space was larger than expected. Even when I pointed the flashlight, the darkness just floated and never hit a wall.
The stairs ended, and when the soles of my shoes touched the dirt floor, a dragging sound could be heard.
When I turned the light behind me, I saw a wooden cage. In the back, the darkness formed layered shades. No—it was a coil. Something coiled upon itself many times was there.
Alongside it came the sound of something crawling and the fluttering of wings.
Inside a cage resembling the confinement room, the coils spun, scales rustling. In the gaps, I caught a glimpse of hair and a pale face.
"Miyaki, I've been thinking about something... is it alright?"
"I don't want to hear it, but go ahead..."
Her trembling voice echoed.
"A lonely god doesn't mean sad and alone—it's the curse kind. 'Kodoku', right?"