Goodbye Fairy Chapter 1: Masks and Signposts (Full Text)

Prologue | Contents | A Break, and a Short Conversation

Table of Contents

• Part 1
• Part 2
• Part 3
• Part 4

1

April 23, 1991 (Heisei 3) – Tuesday

There’s a saying that goes, “One can only appreciate manners when their basic needs are met.” There’s also another saying: “Poverty dulls the wit.” In other words, if you exclude some saints, civility is secondary, to be considered only after filling your stomach. Indeed, it’s cruel to ask a man who will not see the sun rise the next day if he doesn’t catch the rabbit in front of his eyes to do anything more than put enough strength in his spear hand.

But of course, just because something is secondary doesn’t mean it should be completely dismissed. To pull out yet another popular proverb, “Man cannot live by bread alone.” These maxims are the legacies of people who lived in a variety of turbulent times. Being simple to understand and easy to accept, they are by definition, popular.

Now, reflecting on this topic, I find that it incorporates a serious problem, and it is no more a matter of happiness than anything else. From the moment we are born, do those whose basic needs are already met seek more resources to improve their civility, or do they strip it all away? Neither of these choices are natural or reasonable. A science fiction book I read in the past depicted a world where every need has been fulfilled. The inhabitants of that world have nothing to do, so they commit suicide by their own volition¹. In the end, the malady of extravagance is undeniably a malady.

Since I’d been requested to talk about anything at all, I meandered aimlessly around that subject. I was never expecting the person who had put in that request to listen in earnest, and as if on cue, that person, or the girl called Sendou, uttered a single phrase indifferently.

“I suppose.”

That was a normal reaction for her, so I didn’t feel particularly annoyed.

Tachiarai sported a one-length haircut that sat exactly on her gray blazer. It was quite a rare hairstyle to have at this time, so it often drew stares from others. She’d been told many times by her girl friends to cut it, but as she put it, “I always wanted to have long flowing black hair since I was a wide-eyed kindergartner. If I were to cut my hair after growing it out for so long, it would come back as a ghost to haunt me.” She dutifully maintained her hair, so it was indeed the “long flowing black hair” she yearned for. She looked far too thin for her standing figure to be considered slender; her countenance was dark and stern, with traces of a sharp wit lurking beneath. If you put Tachiarai in a line of ten people and evaluated them, the other nine would probably feel out of place. She was tall, but was still a fist shorter than me, who had an average height for a boy. Though she didn’t exactly desire solitude, she gave off a detached air that made boys crazy for her, and was even more popular with girls by some accounts. As for why an average or below-average person like me was able to exchange words with her as friends, the reason was related to her nickname, Sendou.

April was about to end, but the cold had not yet retreated. Still, the spring showers decided to make their appearance, causing today to be exceptionally frigid. It wasn’t raining cats and dogs, but the precipitation showed no signs of stopping, so everyone was holding up an umbrella. Mine was an unimaginative black Western-style umbrella, while Tachiarai’s was a sinister crimson. Looking up at the wide walkway before us, I saw umbrellas of all designs and colors, as well as the people in blazers carrying them. They were students of our school, Fujishiba High School.

Just then, a girl holding a green checkered umbrella trotted past. After getting to a point two or three steps in front of us, she turned around and slightly lowered her head.

“Goodbye, Tachiarai-senpai!”

In response to that, Tachiarai gave a small wave back. With a forced smile on her lips, she waited for the girl to leave, then muttered.

“Guess she didn’t listen.”

Tachiarai was her real name, but being addressed by it displeased her for some reason. I was the one who gave her the nickname Sendou early on in the first year. Freshman nerves must have been a foreign concept to Tachiarai, for she would always nod off at her desk, whether it be during recess or during classes. She seemed to be peacefully rowing a boat as her head bobbed up and down, so I teased her by calling her a boatman, or Sendou-san. She seemed to really take a liking to that nickname, and we got on speaking terms after that. She would usually be the one listening to me, but I’d never heard a complaint in the two years that passed since then, she shouldn’t have felt too bored by my prattle. Additionally, Tachiarai would occasionally utter something profound, and I always looked forward to those moments.

Our path was blocked by a traffic light, causing uniformed students to pile up on the pavement. They were all in the same grade as us or juniors. We’d been constantly told that we would start being conscious of entrance examinations once we became third-year students, but there was no sense of urgency at this point in time. At the crowded space in front of the pedestrian crossing, Sendou’s crimson umbrella collided with another student’s green umbrella, splashing some drops of water onto the back of my neck. Tachiarai looked on blankly as I flicked off that water with my fingernails before making a suggestion as the light turned green.

“Shall we go by Fudou Bridge?”

She was probably saying that we could avoid the crowd by taking a different path than usual. I didn’t feel annoyed by the crowd, but agreed wordlessly anyway.

We entered a small street branching off from the main road, and the number of people around us decreased significantly. We immediately became the only students there. Private houses stood on either side of the street that didn’t even have a center line painted on, and large drops of rain plummeting down from their eaves continually battered our umbrellas. The wind was terribly cold. It should be about time for the cherry blossoms to start falling, but today’s weather was just really weird. I wasn’t urged to continue with my verbal essay from earlier, so I walked on silently. This wasn’t unusual when it was just the two of us, so the silence didn’t feel heavy. Every now and then, an automobile would drive past on the waterlogged road and cause water to spray in our direction. My pants and Tachiarai’s socks would get soaked each time that happened.

Fujishiba High School was located in Fujishiba City.

It supposedly had a population of 100,000, but in reality, it felt like there were more people than that. It was the regional hub for culture, economics and politics, and at the end of the day, was a provincial city². It didn’t border the sea, but was next to an expanse of mountains to the north. The city had been built up by the timber industry, but like many other things, that had gone into decline without exception, and now tourism was the main focus. The unprecedented benefits of that spread to all parts of the city, and it was even rumored that some of the mountainous area to the north would be leveled to construct a new golf course.

The Atotsu River ran right through the city center, roughly splitting it up into the old town in the north and the new town in the south. There were buildings in the old town dating back to the early-modern era³, making up the lifeline of tourism for Fujishiba City. Thankfully, the city was not selected as a target during World War II, and experienced no major fires after the early-modern era ended. That was why the old town was able to be preserved.

A scooter flew out from a narrow alley. The two of us stood still to let it pass.

“About what you were talking about just now…”

“Hm? Ah, what about it?”

Though she was the one who restarted the conversation, Tachiarai did not look in my direction.

“I understand what you’re saying. You might even have a point. I don’t think you can generalize it like that, but it was quite an interesting argument.”

“Well, thanks.”

“But I don’t want to accept it.”

“…”

“I’m saying that I don’t like it.”

She didn’t explain why. Her statements were always a few words short, and I was used to it. With the scooter past us, we started walking again.

“That so? Well, pretend you didn’t hear it if you didn’t like it.”

I started hearing the heavy reverberations of the river’s rushing water, mixed with the pitter-patter of raindrops. Fujishiba High School was not located in the new town or the old town, but in the outskirts, which also had vast tracts of farmland. To travel between our houses and the school, Tachiarai and I had to cross the river. After passing through a narrow gap between old houses with wooden roofs where cats would probably prowl around at, we instantly reached Fudou Bridge. It was an old bridge, well supported by abutments made of blackened wood, and with its surface barely covered with asphalt. The bridge was only for pedestrians, so it was narrow. If we walked on it side-by-side, our umbrellas would collide.

We started crossing the bridge. As if its name was a joke⁴, it clearly started swaying when only the two of us were on it. The Atotsu River’s water level was higher than usual, thanks to the long-lasting rain. I accidentally nudged the handrail, and a small bit chipped off. I wouldn’t be surprised if it collapsed with a loud roar and got swept up by the river. If that happened while we were still crossing it, we would go to the afterlife without even a chance to protest against the unfairness of it all.

By chance, I looked up.

And noticed someone on the other side of the bridge.

They were in front of the shutters of a photo studio that had closed down, simply standing next to an empty show window. They had a slim silhouette, but I couldn’t tell if they were male or female. Apparently having noticed that I was looking at something, Tachiarai also raised her head and peered at the opposite shore. She raised her voice so that it wouldn’t be drowned out by the sounds of the rushing river.

“…Looks like they’re taking shelter from the rain.”

This was a spring shower, so it would last for a long time, and it was freezing today. Yet that person didn’t seem to have an umbrella.

We arrived at the middle point of the bridge. The person seemed to be neither tall nor short. They had black hair that reached their shoulders, and a bag by their feet. It was an enormous black bag that one would have trouble wrapping their arms around. They seemed out of place for some reason. I tried thinking why, when it hit me. They were wearing a navy jacket, pink pants, a warm-colored striped shirt, and a red beanie. Their taste in clothes was a little strange.

“Sendou!”

“…”

“Do you see that person?”

“Yeah, didn’t I say that?”

We’d now crossed three-quarters of the bridge. I felt that the person on the other side caught our gaze. As hard as it was to believe, there was no one else but that person and the two of us, even on the left and right sides of the road parallel to the river.

I was certain now.

“They’re not Japanese… and not a Mongoloid.”

“A white person?”

“Looks like it.”

Tachiarai tilted her head slightly to the side.

“Still, it’s rash to assume that they’re not Japanese. They could be a naturalized citizen.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking at them.”

Foreigners were not rare here. Though Fujishiba City was just a provincial city, foreigners of white, black or yellow skin could be frequently seen. That said, it was unusual for a singular foreigner to take shelter from the rain here, so far away from the city center.

That person looked to be huddling themselves up, and gazing at the sky to check the weather.

“They seem to be in a bind.”

“Seems like it.”

“Sendou, sorry, but could you walk me home?”

“…Moriya-kun.”

Tachiarai shot me an exasperated look.

“You’re being a busybody again. Your umbrella wasn’t cheap, right?”

She’d discerned what I wanted to do. This often happened, so I wasn’t surprised.

“Nah, it was cheap. I got it on sale.”

With a wry smile, I added, “It’s the least I can do.”

Tachiarai didn’t say, “It’s none of your business.”

We finished crossing the bridge, and started advancing to that person.

After getting a closer look, it seemed that they were female. She had black eyes, black hair, as well as a well-chiseled face, and not much in the way of stereotypical Caucasian features. Her nose bridge was remarkably high up on her slightly long face, and she had thick black eyebrows above her big eyes. Her face had fatigue seeped into it, and some dust from her travels accumulated there, but her facial features were still well-defined. I felt that she was charming rather than beautiful, but there was some indescribable strength around her eyes. As we approached, she stopped gazing at the sky and turned to look at us.

Tachiarai was following behind me. The other person seemed to be slightly on guard, probably suspicious of us. To put her at ease, I put on a smile. I licked the interior of my mouth even though it shouldn’t be dry in this rainy weather, then asked her a question in academic English that I’d never used in a real-life situation before.

“May I help you?”

I pronounced it decently, if I may say so myself.

However, only a mixture of alarm and confusion crossed the girl’s face, and she did not respond. When I took another step forward, she took a stance with her left hand thrust forward and her right hand pulled back, as if to say, “Bring it on!” She’d clearly misunderstood me. I tried one more time, but with a different phrase.

“Are you in trouble?”

But as expected, it didn’t work, and the other person seemed unsure of how to respond. With a confused look, she asked.

“Ko ste Vi?⁵”

“Hm… Do you need any help? What’s the matter?”

I repeatedly performed some gestures to ask if she was in trouble. At one point, I waved my umbrella without realizing it, causing Tachiarai to frown at the raindrops I’d splattered onto her as a result. After wiping off some water that had reached her shoulder, she let out a shallow sigh.

“Doesn’t look like it’s working.”

Tachiarai said, and the other girl turned to face her. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but she looked to have let her guard down a little. Did seeing someone of the same gender make her feel more relaxed? As I mulled about that, Tachiarai slipped in front of me, then spoke in our native language without trying to make up for her lack of amiability.

“…Shall we lend you an umbrella?”

In an instant, the girl’s countenance softened, and she lowered her head. She then replied in a slightly nasally voice.

“Thank you very much. I would be grateful if you lend me an umbrella. Thank goodness one of you can speak Japanese.”

…It must be a trick. As I stood there dumbfounded, Tachiarai turned back to look at me with a weird expression on her face, as if she was trying to suppress her mirth.

“It’s rash to assume that she speaks English just because she’s a foreigner, and it’s also rash to assume that she can’t understand Japanese. I won’t hold it against you, though.”

Thinking back, Tachiarai must have deduced that the other girl could understand Japanese from her change in attitude towards the words, “Doesn’t look like it’s working.” But even so!

Apparently having understood what Tachiarai said to me, the girl laughed.

“You can also speak Japanese, right?”

I spoke so rapidly it might seem that I was taking it out on her.

“Of course. To be precise, all I know is Japanese. My English is not up to scratch.”

“I do not understand English either.”

“Your Japanese is great.”

“I still have a lot to learn.”

She smiled again as she answered, causing her to appear two or three years younger, and that strength in her eyes to be replaced with liveliness. I was relieved to see that expression in this gloomy spring rain. The words naturally flowed from my mouth.

“Where did you come from?”

“Where?”

Ah, umm…

“Which country are you from?”

The girl nodded in understanding, but for some reason took a while to reply.

“I am from Jugoslavija.”

“Yugo… what?”

Tachiarai cut in.

“Yugoslavia, right?”

“Da. Socijalistika Federativna Republika Jugoslavija.”

It was a country I’d never heard of before. No, on second thoughts, the name did ring a bell. The number of countries I’d never heard of a single time in my entire life was probably next to zero. But which part of the world was that country in?

“Sendou, you know it?”

Tachiarai was academically proficient to the point that she could pursue any options she wanted after graduating from high school, but her response was vague.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘know’.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“…Eastern Europe.”

“Eastern Europe? You mean like Finland?”

“That’s in Northern Europe. It’s near countries like Bulgaria, I think.”

A map of Europe appeared in my head. Starting from the west, there is the Iberian Peninsula with Portugal and Spain. Past the Pyrenees is France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany and Switzerland. To the south is Italy and the small countries near it, and to the west we have Austria and Poland. Further west of that…

Strange, the map in my head jumped straight to the Middle East. Israel, Iraq, Iran, Kuwait. I happened to remember those names only because of the Gulf War that broke out at the start of the year. I had no memory of the area in between, as if it had slipped through the gaping hole in my mind. And where did Greece go?

“Eastern Europe, huh. Eastern Europe…”

“Uh, Moriya-kun, it might be better to call it Central Europe.”

Tachiarai made a correction that I couldn’t imagine to bear any significance, but the other girl immediately waved her hands.

“Thank you for being considerate, but Eastern Europe is fine. I don’t like the west… Hm, I don’t really like the west?”

“Did you mean, ‘I don’t particularly like the west’? So you don’t hate it either?”

“Da!”

She ecstatically yelled a syllable that wouldn’t normally be heard on its own in Japan. She was strangely joyful about it, and I was infected by her energy.

That said…

“I see, so that’s why English is completely foreign to you… well, anyway, please use this.”

I offered her my umbrella. Naturally, it was still raining, but Tachiarai showed no indication that she would cover me with hers. Having no choice, I borrowed the space under the eaves next to the Yugoslavian girl. She accepted the umbrella before bowing her head again, more courteously than before.

“Thank you very much. It is a great help.”

Her gaze dropped to the umbrella in her hands.

“…How do I return this?”

“Ah, it’s fine, you can have it. Umbrellas and books don’t come back once loaned out.”

“That is an interesting way of thinking. Well then, thank you again.”

She bowed again.

Incidentally, my umbrella was made for men, so it was enormous. However, comparing it with her and the bag at her feet, I had to admit that just one such umbrella probably wouldn’t provide ample protection from the rain. Wouldn’t it be cruel to let her push through the famous Japanese spring rain front while lugging such a heavy bag with her thin arms? The legs of her pink pants were already soaked.

Well, I’d already been called a busybody by Tachiarai. A bit more meddling wouldn’t hurt. With that thought, I asked.

“Where will you be headed to next?”

But that question caused her to sink into silence, her brows furrowed. She’d displayed this behavior earlier, so perhaps my phrasing was too polite and roundabout for her to understand. I switched to a more direct question.

“Where are you going now?”

“…”

“Was that too difficult?”

She shook her head. So people from Yugoslavia also shake their heads when they don’t understand something. Or do we do that in Japan only because of European cultural influence?

“No, I can understand your Japanese, but I do not know how to answer.”

“Are you lost?”

Tachiarai asked, but the Yugoslavian girl shook her head again.

“No. Um, it is a long story, but if I were to put it simply…”

She fell silent for a short moment, probably searching for the most appropriate words to say, then continued.

“There is nowhere for me to go.”

Tachiarai and I exchanged glances. Was she a vagrant from Eastern Europe? We must have been making some weird faces, for the girl tried to take back what she said by waving her hand as if she were swatting away smoke from a cigarette.

“Basically, uh, due to certain circumstances, I am at a dilemma, and I do not know where I can go. It is a distressing situation.”

She spoke with an unusually formal diction. But perhaps that was to be expected when using a language other than one’s mother tongue, though someone like me who can only use my mother tongue cannot pass judgment either way. I lowered my voice so that only Tachiarai could hear it.

“What do we do?”

Asking Tachiarai was definitely a mistake. Her reply was exactly as I’d expected.

“Do whatever you like, Moriya-kun.”

“I’d lose sleep if we leave her like this.”

“That’s troubling. Not being able to sleep is the worst.”

“Could you stick around for just a little longer?”

“Oh? Didn’t you want me to walk you home?”

I wrung my hands as an expression of gratitude, then turned back to the Yugoslavian girl. There was a scowl on my face, but that was because I was trying to hide my embarrassment.

“In Japan, we have a saying that goes, ‘We’ve already embarked on the boat’.”

“Already embarked on what?”

The girl looked perplexed, but instead of answering her, I pointed at an alley next to us.

“This isn’t a place to stand and talk. If we go through here, we’ll get to a shopping street. We can get a nice hot drink, and if you don’t mind, please tell us about your situation.”

“It looks like he wants to help you,” Tachiarai added helpfully.

I wondered if she might become suspicious upon hearing my suggestion, but against my expectations, the girl lightly lowered her head, seemingly not having put any thought into it.

“I would appreciate that very much.”

I must have earned her trust by giving her the umbrella, for she even allowed me to carry her bags like a porter, a light smile on her face.

After passing through the alley, we entered a cafe. To be honest, it was not one that I would like to patronize frequently. Too many photos of cars and ships were hung haphazardly on the walls, giving the shop a somewhat tacky feel, and I didn’t really appreciate how vociferous the conversations between the manager and the regular customers were. Most importantly, the sandwiches were awful. However, this was the closest cafe to the photo studio we were at earlier.

Since it was a rainy evening, the three of us were the only customers in the shop. We definitely looked a little worse for wear, but there were no warm towels for us to wipe our drenched faces with. The Yugoslavian girl removed her red beanie, then flicked off some drops of water from her black fringe. From the looks of it, her hair looked a little stiff. Only Tachiarai had a russet handkerchief which she used to stroke her shoulders.

For now, we made ourselves comfortable with some coffee. There should also be coffee in Yugoslavia, for the girl took a sip without hesitation.

“Kafa in Japan is thin,” she commented.

Hearing that, I took another sip from my cup.

“…Seems normal to me.”

“If you think this is thin, Yugoslavia’s coffee must be a lot thicker.”

“Yes. Also, this is quite bitter.”

So Yugoslavia’s coffee is thicker and less bitter compared to Japan’s coffee… Just what kind of coffee is that?

But coffee was not the problem at hand.

Now that our bodies, chilled by the April rain, were slightly warmed up, I broached the subject.

“So, you… no, that doesn’t sound right. What should we call you?”

The girl grinned.

“Please, call me Maja.”

Maja… Maja… I tried muttering her name under my breath. That certainly wasn’t a Japanese name. In my head, I linked that name to the white-skinned girl before my eyes. Oh right, there was something I almost forgot to do. After consciously clearing my throat, I corrected my posture.

“Maja-san, I’m Moriya Michiyuki. Mo-ri-ya, Mi-chi-yu-ki. Please call me Moriya.”

“I’m Tachiarai Machi. You can call me Machi or Sendou.”

After the two of us introduced ourselves in sequence, Maja looked intently at us. She pointed at me.

“Moriya-san.”

She then pointed at Tachiarai and said, “Machi-san. Alright, I have remembered your names. I will not forget.”

Great. I took a swig of coffee.

“So Maja-san, what are you troubled by? If it’s a simple matter, we might be able to help. Do you mind telling us?”

I kept in mind to use simple Japanese as much as possible, but realized that it was actually not as easy as I thought it would be. I never consciously separated speech into “special” and “normal”, anyway. The parable of a centipede tripping over its own legs flitted across my mind. In the first place, Maja’s conversational Japanese abilities seemed sufficient for her to understand what I was saying, so I probably didn’t have to go out of my way to simplify it for her. Thankfully, the conversation went smoothly, so my efforts weren’t in vain.

“Alright. Uh, I will first talk about myself.”

With that preface, Maja started expounding her situation.

“Yugoslavia is not a rich country. That is why we try to learn about rich countries and countries with plentiful resources. That is my father’s job. When I was a lot younger, I followed him around and went to all sorts of countries.

“My father just came to Japan, and I was supposed to stay with his friend for two months. However, when I arrived at this city, I learned that they had passed away. That is the distressful situation I was talking about.”

“What about your father?”

“Not the capital, uh… but he is in the biggest city.”

Excluding Tokyo, the biggest city would be…

“…Osaka?”

“Da! That one.”

“Why don’t you go to Osaka?”

It seemed like an obvious choice, but Maja flatly denied it.

“I cannot. While my father works, I should study and live in this country. That is the promise I had with him. I cannot go back to him now, no matter what. When I go to Osaka is when I go back to Yugoslavia.”

“…I see.”

As expected, her usage of the Japanese language was weird in some areas, but I could understand her circumstances. I could also tell that Maja was somewhat stubborn. Instead of being caught in the rain with no destination in mind, she should have compromised her principles and gone to her father. That said, her spirit was something to be admired…

In any case, Maja’s problem was that she basically needed to secure some accommodation.

“Who were you supposed to stay with here?”

“A person called Ichiya Taizou.”

“Couldn’t you ask to stay with that person’s family?”

I deliberately didn’t use the phrase “bereaved family” since I didn’t want to confuse her.

But Maja shook her head again.

“Ichiya Taizou did not have any family.”

Nothing could be done about that, then.

While reaching out for my coffee, I whispered to Tachiarai.

“Should we introduce her to a guesthouse?”

“Do you know anywhere cheap? Based on what she said, she doesn’t have much money on her.”

“In the end, it always comes down to money, huh…”

After nodding at my statement, Tachiarai went straight to the point and asked, “Maja-san, what’s your upper limit for one day of rent?”

“Sorry, upper limit? Rent?”

She could have been more considerate with her choice of words… With that thought, I corrected her from the side.

“She means, how much can you pay for one day of staying at a place?”

Maja nodded three or four times, considered for a while, then slightly lowered her eyes.

“It might not be enough, but about one thousand yen.”

We exchanged looks. One thousand yen was impossible no matter what. We would have to search with gongs and drums⁶ for a room at 4000 yen a night, without meals. Probably having understood the situation, Maja countenance clouded over.

“Is it impossible?”

She might barely be able to scrape by if she did some part-time work, but even as a naive high school student, I knew that a foreigner without an employment visa would not be allowed to work in Japan. On top of that, I’d heard of people who worked regardless of that, and people who let such people work, but there was no way a high school student like myself would have those connections. In the first place, if Maja was telling the truth, her father was a government affiliate. Getting her to work illegally would be a terrible idea.

“I suppose we’re powerless to help.”

Tachiarai quickly threw in the towel.

However, I didn’t feel like giving up just yet. Even though I knew we were powerless, I wasn’t going to admit it so easily. Basically, we needed some accommodation facility that was either free or charged a small fee to stay at. Hotels and inns were out of the question. It would also be difficult to find a guesthouse under those conditions. What about a youth hostel? But for a two-month stay and one thousand yen a day…

Hang on, did it have to be a facility?

If not, it was actually quite a simple matter. I put on a large smile and turned to Tachiarai.

“Sendou.”

“What’s up with that creepy face?”

Just grin and bear it…

“Are there any spare rooms in your house?”

“For a home stay?”

She asked, then instantly continued.

“My house won’t work. It’s not that I’m stingy, but we just don’t have the space… But what about you, Moriya-kun?”

My house, huh. I was about to say that it was fine after only a small amount of consideration, but given that I’d asked Tachiarai, I must have subconsciously known that it would be impossible to let Maja stay at my house too. Two or three days might be fine, but two whole months was no trivial matter. In the first place, I couldn’t make any such suggestions in my house.

Were there any other options?

“Uh… did you think of something?”

“Please give us a moment.”

Essentially, we needed a person who would accept Maja, and had the physical space in their house to let her stay there. Did such an ideal person even exist?

I could feel my brows furrowing as I sipped some coffee and ended up draining the entire cup. I continued holding on to the empty cup and fiddled with it. Were we really powerless to help?

“Izuru.”

Tachiarai abruptly spoke.

“Hm?” I said.

Tachiarai replied as if she were talking to her coffee cup.

“I think Izuru would take her in. You know Izuru, right?”

I nodded. That made sense. Shirakawa Izuru was indeed a good idea.

Shirakawa’s family ran a ryokan named “Kikui” in this tourist city of Fujishiba. It wasn’t so esteemed to be considered a honjin⁷, but was on the level of a waki-honjin⁸. Shirakawa, who lived there, was so kind-hearted that one would worry if she might get taken advantage of. She would at least hear us out. Shirakawa and I were both on the student committee, and we often helped each other out there. But I had no idea that Tachiarai had been in touch with Shirakawa. By the way, the nickname Sendou originated from the fact that she slept like a boatman, but it had nothing to do with the phrase “Passing through Shirakawa on the night ferry⁹”.

“You’re close with Shirakawa?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re close, but we’re acquainted.”

“We’ll just need to make a phone call, then. I just hope she’s back home already.”

“It should be fine, I think.”

“Could you ask her?”

Tachiarai stopped moving for an instance, then looked up with a hum.

“…The person with the highest chance of success should be the one to negotiate, right?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Then you should be the one to do it, Moriya-kun.”

“Yeah.”

I nodded, before realizing what she’d just said.

“Wait, why me?”

Tachiarai returned an uncharacteristic vague smile.

“I owe Izuru a favor. It’s a little hard to make a request of her now.”

Interesting. I didn’t know what was going on between them, but it was also difficult for me to ask her. I’d never given Shirakawa a phone call before, after all.

“Sorry, but could you do it?”

Since Tachiarai of all people said those words to me, I had no choice but to comply. Then again, it made sense since I was the one who brought up the idea of helping out in the first place. I addressed Maja, who had been looking on intently at our exchange.

“I’ll go outside to make a phone call.”

With those words, I stood up from the sofa and walked to a public telephone to the side of the cafe’s entrance. I retrieved two ten-yen coins from my wallet.

Ah, I need to first figure out her phone number. It’ll probably be quicker if I search my phone book for her address.

The call connected to Kikui in three rings. Their business telephone seemingly doubled as their house telephone, as I got such a response even though the number was under Shirakawa’s name:

“Thank you for calling. This is the traditional ryokan Kikui.”

I faltered for a moment, but I recognized that deep, calm voice before. Still, I maintained my manners.

“I apologize for interrupting you during your busy schedule. I am Moriya from Fujishiba High School. Has Izuru-san returned?”

“…Moriya-kun?”

“So you’re helping out with the ryokan? That’s admirable.”

The voice on the other end of the receiver replied shyly.

“It’s nothing admirable. But it’s rare for you to call me, Moriya-kun.”

“I think it’s the first time.”

“Is that so? Maybe… so, did something happen?”

“Yeah. There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

After that preface, I cleared my throat, then summarized Maja’s situation. Like me, Shirakawa seemed to only know the name Yugoslavia and nothing else about it.

I told her about our chance meeting with Maja, about how she lost her only point of contact in this country, and how she didn’t have enough money to pay for rent. Shirakawa listened attentively, giving agreeable responses every now and then.

Shirakawa was a good-natured person, and it was difficult to find anything bad to say about her. But if I had to point out something about her that ticked me off, it would be that she was a little slow. She would sometimes be surprised when one thing led to a very obvious outcome. However, when I said that it was impossible for me to take care of her accommodation, she managed to understand what I was getting at.

“Basically…”

Shirakawa said after I finished speaking.

“…You’re asking if I can put up this Maja-san in my house, right?”

I couldn’t immediately answer in the affirmative, though that was indeed the main point of this conversation, in general.

I fell into thought for a while.

“Yes, but of course, you have no obligation to do this. Moreover, this is Maja’s problem, so it’s not exactly my place to make request on her behalf. That’s why I’m not asking for too much. Think of this as just an introduction to the problem, and it’d be great if you could think of possible solutions.”

I could hear a light chuckle that sounded like an exhalation of air. Whenever Shirakawa laughed, she would do so quietly, with a hand covering her mouth.

“That’s so typical of you, Moriya-kun.”

“…”

Was that a compliment? Probably not.

“Umm, can that person speak Japanese?”

“Yeah.”

I added after thinking for a moment.

“Her pronunciation of double consonants and the ‘n’ sound can be hard to hear sometimes, but there should be no problems talking with her normally.”

“It’s good enough if we can understand each other.”

Shirakawa then continued without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“Alright, I understand the situation. I’d love to help her out, but there’s also the inn, so I need to discuss this with my family. If they agree to take her in, she’ll probably have to help a little with work. Call me again in thirty… no, twenty minutes. Oh, and since it’s raining like this, I’ll try to get a car to pick her up. Where are you now?”

I told her the name of the cafe.

“We came here once with the student committee, do you remember?”

“Yup, that’s the shop where the sandwiches were seriously…”

Shirakawa seemed quite unwilling to complete her sentence, so I decided to give her some assistance. I spoke in a small voice so the tough-looking manager wouldn’t hear me.

“Awful.”

Shirakawa laughed again.

“Alright, see you later, then.”

The public telephone returned a ten-yen coin.

“How did it go?” Tachiarai asked, but I instead of answering I talked to Maja.

“Maja-san.”

Due to either brevity or optimism, she was calmly savoring the un-Yugoslavian coffee. Upon being called out to, she finally put down her cup.

“Da.”

“I was on the phone with someone who might let you stay with her.”

“Yes.”

“If that person says it is okay for you to stay, it will cost almost no money, but you will probably have to do some work, and you won’t be paid for that. Are you fine with that?”

Without a speck of unease, Maja instantly nodded.

“I prefer it that way… I am very grateful. Thank you so much.”

“It’s settled, then. Let’s wait a while before that person answers.”

I sank deeply into the sofa and reached out for my coffee cup, but I’d already completely drained it earlier.

Even considering the fact that the communication between us was not exactly perfect, Maja’s attitude towards the two of us since we met at the photo studio seemed quite relaxed. Though she’d gotten in a difficult problem in which the person she was supposed to meet at a foreign country passed away, she did not look like she was, in her words, in a distressing situation. Perhaps her ability to keep her composure was tied to the existence of a lifeline in her father at Osaka, but it was more likely underpinned by her experiences. If so, even if we hadn’t poked our noses into her problem, she might have been able to figure something out on her own. Or did she predict, based on her experiences, that people like us would appear?

While I was having those thoughts, the person in question, Maja, was opening up to Tachiarai, who lacked warmth, but wasn’t a harsh person. As I thought, it was easier for Maja to converse with another girl.

“Machi-san, how old are you?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“Eight, teen?”

This time, Tachiarai was considerate. She opened her palms.

“Ten.”

She then folded two fingers from her left hand.

“Eight.”

“Ah, Osamnaest. Eight, teen. That is one year older than me.”

So Maja is seventeen? That’s the same age as me. I thought she was younger.

“Machi-san, you are, uhh, a high school student, right?”

“Yeah, and on top of that I’m a preparatory student¹⁰.”

“Preparatory student? Is that different from a high school student?”

“It’s a subset of high school students.”

She said that without thinking.

“You should refrain from using special expressions.”

The amount of consideration Tachiarai put into her words was definitely far from enough. Faced with a term she didn’t understand, Maja frowned, just like a Japanese person would. However, before the questions could pile up in front of her, Tachiarai asked.

“If you’re seventeen, what about school, Maja-san?”

Maya answered proudly with a grin.

“I go to school when I am in Yugoslavia. I have also gone to school in other countries, but right now, you two are my school.”

Upon hearing that, I couldn’t help but recall the three schools I’d attended thus far.

“How many times have you been in Japan?”

“This is my first time.”

“First time? How did you learn Japanese?”

“I had a Japanese friend in Češka Slovačka¹¹. I taught her Yugoslavian words, and she taught me Japanese words.”

Was that really enough to master a language from an entirely different family¹²? No, there was no need to doubt her, because it was a fact that Maja had been using the Japanese language effectively. That brought to mind linguistic genii, like Rawlinson¹³ or Champollion¹⁴, though she probably wasn’t on their level.

I had nothing else to do just listening to them, so I ordered a second cup of coffee.

“I hardly know a thing about Yugoslavia. What kind of country is it?”

Maja tilted her head quizzically at that question.

“What kind? That is quite a difficult question.”

It was certainly too abstract. Also realizing that, Tachiarai added.

“For example, does it have a lot of mountains, or is it hot?”

Even when the question’s scope was narrowed down, Maja was still unable to answer it smoothly.

“Uhh, there are all kinds of areas. There are areas with many mountains, but there are also areas with many islands, and areas with lots of plains.”

“What about in general? For Japan the set phrases would be ‘mountainous country’ or ‘island nation’.”

“I see. If we are talking about my country, it has many mountains.”

That was a strange answer. Tachiarai had been talking about Maja’s country, or the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Was that wrong? I voiced that doubt.

“Your country?”

Maja nodded.

She then stuck out her right hand with its palm open and lifted up one finger from her left.

“I understand that many people in Japan who do not know this, but there are six countries in Yugoslavia.”

“…I see.”

Tachiarai promptly understood, but it took me a bit more time to digest. The “Federal” part of the name must mean a federation of states, but those states cannot be considered as sovereign.

“Are they like prefectures?”

“Compared to Japan’s prefectures, Yugoslavia’s Republika are a lot bigger.”

“Like America’s states?”

Maja slightly shook her head.

“Sorry, I do not know much about Amerika. That is my older brother’s job.”

A light smile drifted onto her face, as if she’d just remembered something amusing.

“Oh, right. Machi-san, Moriya-san, do you know about the Republika, Crna Gora¹⁵?”

I shook my head honestly. The map in my head had a blank patch of space between Austria and Israel, so there was no way I would know. Tachiarai wouldn’t know either.

Maja leaned forward as if she were about to tell us a secret.

“Not knowing is not good. To tell you the truth, Crna Gora is at war with Japan. There was a proper Declaration of War.”

“Isn’t that in the past?”

“No… it is still ongoing. There was no treaty to end that war.”

As though she was bewitched by a fox, Maja winked.

“That is why Japanese people should not go to Crna Gora. When a friend from Crna Gora came to my house, I was told that going to Japan would be dangerous. Prisoners of war must be treated in accordance to the treaty, right?”

She giggled.

“…Sendou, did you know this?”

“No idea.”

It was probably some kind of joke, but I couldn’t tell what the punchline was. That said, there must be some truth to it since a person from the warring nation (or the federation that includes that nation) said so. Maja just kept on smiling, and didn’t seem like she would explain her statement.

She continued.

“And as for whether it is hot? It is cold. To tell you the truth, I feel hot now. It is a lot colder in Yugoslavia.”

Maja took off the jacket she’d been wearing, placed it at her side, and put her beanie down on her lap. I thought those clothes were a little thick for April, but it was especially cold today. If she felt hot in this weather, the cold in Yugoslavia must be a lot harsher.

“Also, there is little rain, compared to Japan. I am surprised by how much rain there is in Japan… but it seems that what my Japanese friend said was wrong. She thought it was strange that people in Yugoslavia do not hold umbrellas, but it does not look like people in Japan hold umbrellas either.”

…She didn’t seem to be joking this time.

While I made that assessment, Tachiarai and I replied at the same time.

“No, people do hold umbrellas.”

“We do hold umbrellas, though.”

That joint counterattack caused Maja to blink twice, but the smile was quickly restored on her face.

“I worded it badly. What I meant to say was, since there is little rain in Yugoslavia, many people do not carry an umbrella. My friend found that to be strange, and she said that everyone in Japan carries an umbrella. That does seem to be true. However, people in Japan are used to the rain, so they may not use an umbrella even when they have one.”

Ah, I see, that makes sense.

…No, it doesn’t! When it’s raining, you would definitely hold an umbrella if you have one. No matter how much it rains in Japan, not holding up an umbrella in those circumstances cannot be seen as natural.

Tachiarai was also skeptical about that.

“That’s a weird thing to say.”

“So, are you saying that there are people who do not do that?”

“…Rather, Maja-san, how did you get that impression?”

As expected, there was a reason for that. Maja gave a small nod and started her explanation.

“It was yesterday when I arrived in this city. After learning that Ichiya Taizou had passed away, I spent the night at the train station.

“When I woke up this morning, it was still dark, and it was still raining. I lost my umbrella in Osaka, so I felt I was in trouble.

“I looked towards the city, and I saw a man come out from a housing complex in front. He had an umbrella in his hands, but he ran in the rain without holding up his umbrella. That made me feel impressed. I thought that Japanese people are so used to the rain that they do not need to hold one up in this level of rain. It was interesting, in a philosophical way. Now that I have come to Japan, I think that I must learn the philosophy here.

“What do you think? Was I wrong?”

Her face filled with confidence, Maja looked at me and Tachiarai in turn.

Her use of the phrase “housing complex” was strikingly inaccurate. The area near the south exit of Fujishiba Station was undeveloped compared to the area near the north exit. There was no housing complex, only some apartments. Maja must be referring to those apartments. The problem was with the umbrella.

Maja couldn’t have possibly mistaken something else as an umbrella, right? If it was just a few drops of rain, opening up an umbrella might be not worth the trouble. People with laid-back personalities would think that way. However, this rain had been going on for the past few days at quite a high intensity, and this morning’s rain was far from an idyllic drizzle. In the first place, if that man was running, it probably meant that he didn’t want to get drenched.

While I was at a loss for words, Tachiarai brought her cup of coffee to her mouth in a disinterested manner, a stark contrast to the state she was in just a moment ago.

“Well, if that’s what you saw, I don’t think you’re mistaken.”

I had a hunch about what that attitude meant.

Tachiarai had figured out what it was that Maja actually saw.

In the past two years, Tachiarai had, on multiple occasions, explained away quirky situations, in a manner that made it seem obvious, like there was nothing weird about them in the first place… no, that wasn’t accurate. She’d understood the truth behind those situations, and had never explained them a single time. She never did explanations or clarifications, to a point that I even started wondering if it was out of spite. But that probably wasn’t the case. That was just what Tachiarai Machi was like.

That said, that was only how she acted around me or other people she was comfortable with. Would it be fine to maintain that attitude towards a visitor from another country? With that thought, I spoke in a small voice.

“Sendou.”

“What?”

“What Maja saw, do tell it to her.”

Tachiarai smiled with only her lips.

“An inversion¹⁶? Didn’t you say that I should refrain from using special expressions in front of Maja-san?”

“I was talking to you. You realized why that man wasn’t holding up his umbrella, didn’t you?”

“Oh? Why do you think so?”

“Don’t change the subject at this point.”

With another smile, she turned to me.

“If you want me to tell Maja-san, why don’t you tell her, Moriya-kun? If you don’t know, why don’t you try figuring it out on your own?”

You have a point. It does make sense that if I want to do something, I should do it myself. But that isn’t how human relationships work. Shouldn’t you be a little more, how do I put it, flexible, in times like these?

Even though I knew it would be useless, such a rebuttal was on the tip of my tongue. But before I could voice it, Maja cut into our conversation.

“There were a few words I did not understand, but… are you basically saying that what I saw was something very strange, and we need to figure out what it is?”

I could only nod in response to her question.

“I see. And do you not know what it is at all, Machi-san, Moriya-san?”

I directed a cold stare at Tachiarai, who took it head on. Even she wasn’t made of wood or stone, and couldn’t help but appear a little ashamed. With a small sigh, she asked Maja a question.

“Maja-san, after you saw that man, you didn’t look in that direction for a while, right?”

Maja opened her eyes wide in surprise.

“How did you know? A public security officer came over and asked me some questions.”

“…Have you been to China?”

“Right again! How did you know?”

“We don’t usually call them ‘public security officers’ in Japan, we call them ‘police officers’. But that aside, after you saw that man, he should have immediately run back the same way.”

After saying that, Tachiarai put her index and middle fingers together, and desultorily pointed them at me.

“And he’ll tell you the rest.”

“Sendou!”

Tachiarai turned to face me, but this time she wasn’t smiling. With her chin slightly tilted down, her clear eyes gazed at me from under her drooping fringe.

“Moriya-kun. I was thinking of saying this earlier. I don’t hate how self-reliant you are, but I don’t like how dependent on others you can be.”

“Isn’t that a contradiction?”

“To you, maybe. Listen, this is like an appetizer in a full course. It can’t be that you really don’t know, right? You just haven’t thought about it yet, right?”

I was at a loss for words. Indeed, I hadn’t given it any thought yet.

If she knew as much, there was no choice. As Maja looked on with anticipation, her eyes wide open, I folded my arms and started thinking, not wanting to let her down.

As frustrating as it was to admit it, Tachiarai’s remark that I didn’t know because I hadn’t thought about it was right on the mark. I was able to come up with an answer I was confident in without much hassle. I unfolded my arms.

“Maja-san.”

“Da.”

At that moment, I noticed that Maja’s hands were gripping onto things that wasn’t there before. In her left hand was a notebook with a lock and a dark brown cover. In her right hand was a ball-point pen that looked like the ones you could buy for 100 yen at a convenience store. Come to think of it, she seemed to be leaning forward a little more now.

“Please start whenever you like.”

“…”

“…Is something wrong?”

“What’s that notebook?”

I pointed, and Maja’s gaze fell to the notebook.

“This is a notebook, right? There are many things I do not know the names of.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, there isn’t anything worth recording.”

While she’d claimed to be completely ignorant with regards to the English language, Maja waved her index finger to the left and right, like an American would.

“Ni… No.”

‘What do you mean, no?”

“That is for me to decide.”

I forced a smile. Well, I suppose I don’t really mind.

After theatrically clearing my throat, I started explaining.

“Umm, anyway, let me begin. Not holding up an umbrella while it’s raining in Japan is certainly not normal. It’s clear that the man wasn’t wearing a raincoat; you wouldn’t miss something like that. He didn’t hold up an umbrella even though it was necessary for him to do so. Why is that?”

Maja groaned and sank into thought, but I pressed on without waiting for her response.

“To put it simply, the man couldn’t hold up his umbrella. It was broken.”

I glanced at Tachiarai from the corner of my eye, only to see her gaze out the window, a nonchalant look on her face. I might be expecting too much from her, but she would have probably corrected me if what I said was clearly off the mark. That made me feel a little relieved.

On the other hand, Maja didn’t seem convinced, though that was to be expected.

“That is strange. Why was that man holding a broken umbrella early in the morning?”

I let out a small laugh.

“Maja-san, I don’t know how it’s done in Yugoslavia, but in most parts of Japan, trash is taken out in the mornings.”

“…Trash? Um, you mean, things you don’t need?”

“Exactly, like a broken umbrella. The man went outside in the morning just to take out the trash. Collection of combustible trash is less frequent than collection of non-combustible trash, so it’s better to take it out when you have the chance… yes, even when you don’t have an umbrella and might get wet in the process.”

The man stepped out for a short while to bring out some unwanted items. Reframing the situation in that way made his actions no longer seem that eccentric. It could be said that Maja seeing that as a Japanese peculiarity was quite typical of a foreigner.

Maja let out a deep sigh.

“Hmm… Is that so? If that is the reason, I can understand it. Thank you, I was almost mistaken.”

Deeply impressed, she nodded a few times while letting her pen glide across the surface of her notebook. Was there really something she thought to be worth noting down? I looked at Tachiarai again, but like earlier, she was spacing out. It was even possible that not a word had passed through her ears after she’d tossed the baton at me.

At that moment, her eyes narrowed as she peered into the distance.

“…It’s here.”

What Tachiarai saw immediately came into my view. A white, light wagon car approached us in the rain. With its hazard lights turned on, it slowed down and eventually stopped in front of the cafe. A person alighted from the front passenger seat carrying an ultramarine umbrella. It was Shirakawa Izuru. The sleeves of her blue turtleneck almost completely covered the tips of her fingers as she held onto the umbrella.

Shirakawa entered, causing the cowbell at the door to ring. She grinned upon seeing me, and beamed when she caught sight of Tachiarai sitting next to me.

“Ah, Machi, you’re here as well!”

“Sorry for the unreasonable request.”

Shirakawa faced me as she shook drops of water from her umbrella onto the entrance mat.

“Sorry for making you wait.”

“Rather than making us wait…”

I glanced at my wristwatch. Thirty minutes had passed since the phone call. I must have forgotten about the time while talking with Maja.

“Didn’t you tell me to call again in twenty minutes during the phone call just now? What are you doing here?”

“…Did I really say that?”

“Yep.”

“Did you call?”

“No, I forgot.”

“That’s fine, then. No, not really. Sorry.”

She lowered her head. I didn’t mean to blame her, especially when her mistake didn’t throw a wrench in the plans or anything.

After noticing Shirakawa, Maja turned to me.

“Moriya-san, who is this?”

Shirakawa asked the same question.

“Moriya-kun, who is this?”

Having been questioned in stereo, I stood between the two of them.

“Shirakawa, this is Maja-san. She came from Yugoslavia. Maja-san, this is Shirakawa. She’s an acquaintance of ours.”

I looked questioningly at Shirakawa. How did the discussion with her family go?

Shirakawa nodded and took a step forward.

“Maja-san, that is your name, right?”

“Yes.”

“I have heard about your situation. If you would like, please come to our house, we have prepared a room for you there. We might not be able to offer you much hospitality, but please let us know what you need. You do not need to pay us any money, but it would be great if you could help with the dishes or cleaning in return.”

Joy erupted on Maja’s face.

“Thank you so much! Please, let me be in your care!”

She then extended her right hand, a universal sign of affection and trust. Shirakawa hesitated for a moment, but instantly smiled, rolled up her overly long sleeve, and shook Maja’s hand. As a nosy intermediary, that handshake let me know that everything went well in the end, giving me a sense of relief.

Tachiarai called out to the two of them.

“I hope you’ll let me come over next time.”

“Yes, please do. Please tell me all about Japan. Machi-san, Moriya-san, thank you very much!”

She bowed deeply at both Tachiarai and me in turn. The two of us responded by waving our hands, a gesture that meant, “You’re welcome. It was nothing.” I looked outside to see that the rain didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon, but since I ended up not lending my umbrella, returning home wouldn’t take that much effort.

2

May 7, 1991 (Heisei 3) – Sunday

“So, what happened with that Eastern European?”

Nukata Hiroyasu asked in an easy-going manner while sitting cross-legged, with his hands behind his head. His skin was burnt brown by the sun even though it was far from summer, which was visual proof of his liveliness. I couldn’t relax as well as him, but answered amiably.

“Dunno. Sendou sometimes visits her, though.”

“You don’t go see her? Didn’t you say she was a cutie?”

“Just because a girl I met in a once-in-a-lifetime encounter is cute, doesn’t mean anything will happen.”

“The trick is to not treat it as a once-in-a-lifetime encounter.”

Nukata guffawed. I can’t do it like you, I was about to reply, but stopped myself. I’d just get thrown off balance if I kept following his pace. Not that I minded it that much, but I wasn’t quite so detached.

“Tricks aside…”

Someone spoke from behind. It was Fumihara. He was also sitting cross-legged, a usual sulky look on his face. The arms peeking out from his sleeves that only went up to his elbows were big. His broad shoulders and well-built physique made him give off a rugged air, in stark contrast to Nukata.

“She’s someone you went out of your way to help before. It’s only natural to want to respond if she asks for help again, right?”

“If she does ask for help, that is.”

I was sitting between the two of them, with one knee raised up. We were in a dimly lit waiting room with a wooden floor. The three of us were all wearing a martial arts uniform on top and a hakama¹⁷ on the bottom, and we each held an archery glove in the inner pocket of our uniform. A collection of bowswere leaning against the walls of the room. Many of them had their strings taut, but some of them were unstrung. Whatever state the bows were in was decided by the owning archer, based on their past experiences.

We weren’t the only ones sitting on the floor. The room was filled with dozens of high school students, all seated here and there in separate circles. There were no name tag attached to the uniforms, so I wouldn’t be able to tell where each person was from, but all athletes from the high schools in this region should be gathered here. This was the regional preliminaries for the Inter-High School Archery Championship, Individual Division.

There was no special reason as to why our Archery Club at Fujishiba High School fielded only participants for the Individual Division. We simply didn’t have enough members. The only male students who could fire an arrow were me, Nukata, Fumihara, and Mabuchi, a second-year who was taking a walk outside to calm his nerves. We did get some freshmen, but they still couldn’t hold a bow yet, with it being only a month since they joined.

There used to be enough members to form two groups for the Team Division when we joined as first-year students. However, people dropped out one after another in the last two years, leaving only us three. The reason was clear. Our club advisor, Kagami, enforced an operational policy, which was “train for refinement, and not for victory”. That was why Fujishiba High School’s Archery Club could not win. Not at all. It was no wonder that most students found that to be boring and quit. Even so, the three of us remained. I couldn’t speak for Fumihara, but I didn’t stay because I particularly sought “refinement”. It was probably also the same for Nukata.

The steel door opened with a heavy rumble. A young, fit-looking teacher read out six names while staring at a sheet of paper in his hands. The athletes whose names were called gave short replies of acknowledgment and stood up. They each retrieved a bow with their left hand, picked up four arrows with their right hand, and left the waiting room. As we watched them leave, Nukata spoke.

“Those guys are from Hisanuma Commercial, right?”

Fumihara nodded.

“Yeah, the same guys who entered in the team competition.”

While it was an individual competition, the participants were grouped by school, perhaps due to consideration for the athletes’ mental states, or due to convenience of managing the event. Fujishiba High School was right after Hisanuma Commercial High School, so our turn was coming soon.

I gazed at the steel door through which the six students had exited.

“…Is Mabuchi still on his walk?”

Nukata shrugged.

“Don’t you think he’s got the runs?”

“That’s not funny. Shouldn’t we look for him?”

“Nah, he’s not a lost kid.”

He chortled again.

While he was laughing, Nukata’s voice and gestures were more restrained than usual. Perhaps he was being mindful of the other athletes preparing for the competition, as well as us. Whether an arrow that has been fired off will hit its target is a question of physics, and one’s spirit being fulfilled will not cause an inaccurate arrow to magically change course midair and strike its target. That said, everyone should know by experience that being in a disturbed mental state can cause one to mysteriously become unable to transmit the ideal amount of power to their limbs. It wasn’t worth thinking about anything else. All I should be doing is getting into a state of calm for the upcoming round.

The door opened. Mabuchi trudged in while attempting to compress his already small frame, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. Fumihara acknowledged that by standing up.

“Alright!”

With that, he did some vigorous bending and stretching exercises, groaning a little in the process. Nukata and I also stood up and started lightly moving our bodies, though that wasn’t influenced by Fumihara. On the other hand, Mabuchi nervously plucked the string of his bow. With an uncharacteristic unsmiling face, Nukata muttered slowly.

“This is the last one.”

I reached for my archery glove. It used to have a nice amber color, but after being used so many times, the part that would usually rub against an arrow was now glistening black.

It didn’t take long for our names to be called.

“Let’s go, then.”

Upon hearing my words, the other three nodded.

We passed through the steel door and went outside.

The weather was quite clear in the morning, but lots of clouds must have formed since then, for the sky was completely overcast when we exited the waiting room. The winds that blew past were still cold, but they had eased up considerably in terms of their harshness. The waiting room was a distance away from the range, so we had to advance through a wooden-slatted path in our tabi.

Nukata had said, “This is the last one.” Given that we still had the prefectural tournament and the national tournament, that statement might have been a little hasty. But then again, if you calmly take our archery prowess into consideration, there was indeed a very high chance that this would be our final leg in the Inter-High championship.

The first time I came here was for the amateur competition in the autumn of my first year in high school. Since then, I’d walked this path multiple times for the past two years. My archery skills had improved compared to then, I think. I’d also gained knowledge enough to attempt a college entrance exam. But… some strange doubts suddenly welled up in my heart. It was all because Nukata had talked about Maja earlier. Had I ever gotten a single experience like the one Maja had the other day? If Kagami was trying to teach “refinement” through archery, exactly which part of me got refined? Moriya Michiyuki’s life as a member of the Archery Club would end today without a considerable amount of luck. On top of that, I would cease to be a high school student in less than a year.

…I shook my head. I need to collect myself before the round.

Nukata made some pointless conversation along the way, but clammed up as soon as he joined the line of athletes waiting their turn. Fumihara took on the demeanor of a martial artist, a quiet determination added to the air he was giving off. Mabuchi was complaining that his body was feeling tense, unfortunately for him. I could have given him a few words of encouragement as his senior, but this was an individual competition. Thinking that he would learn form this experience, I left him alone.

A middle-aged man, probably a teacher from somewhere, signaled us over. The previous group must have completed their shoot.

“Right, next!”

At the front of the line was Fumihara. He bowed fully with a solemn visage, then stepped into the training hall, left foot first. He had his bow in his left hand, and arrows in his right. The fletching of his arrows were made to look like hawk feathers. Next was Nukata. Only the first athlete had to make a full bow, while the rest of us only had to bend our heads by a few degrees before stepping into the range. After Nukata was me, then Mabuchi. Behind him were two students from a different school.

Everyone neatly shuffled to their designated positions, just as we’d practiced for the last two years. Next, we each placed down four arrows on the ground, and picked up two of them. The lead, Fumihara, entered a shooting motion, and at the same time twisted his neck to focus on the target. We never came to this archery range except for competitions, so it had a different atmosphere compared to normal practice ranges. That said, we had a number of competitions under our belt already. There was no way we would get thrown off by something like this.

Fumihara fired off his first shot… It hit the target, a little left of center. Nukata started aiming at his target, while I nocked an arrow. Right after that, Mabuchi fired his first shot behind me. Since this was an individual match, the six of us were split into groups of three, and we were to shoot sequentially in these groups. Mabuchi’s arrow went way too high above its target, as if it had slipped out of the bow. Following that, Nukata’s first shot was also off the mark.

It was now my turn. I brought the bow above my head, then pushed my left hand towards the target, with my right hand still holding the arrows. From that position, I slowly drew the bow while moving my hands down, stopping when the arrow reached the height of my lips. This is a delicate time when the bow is neither being drawn nor loosed, known as kai. With the bow sufficiently taut, the archer does almost nothing but wait to release the arrow. The length of kai differs by person. Fumihara usually took five seconds, Nukata would take two to three seconds, while I would wait for about ten seconds.

After ten seconds, I released the arrow… Clink! A clear sound was produced. The arrow bounced off the target’s wooden frame. It was a miss.

Fumihara’s second shot missed. Nukata’s second shot hit the target. Mine went a hair’s breadth to the right of the target. Another miss.

Having fired off two arrows, we picked up the remaining two while standing.

Fumihara’s third shot beautifully struck the bullseye. As if going with the flow, Nukata’s arrow also flew into the very center of his target. After waiting for Nukata’s shot to end, I raised my bow. I’d missed the last two shots, but I wasn’t feeling bad about it.

Above my head, I extended only my left hand towards the target, and started drawing my bow.

Though I should have been only looking at the target, I caught something out of the corner of my eye, something I didn’t need to see.

It was a trio sitting in a line at a corner of the spectator seats closest to the targets. That trio was made up of Tachiarai, Shirakawa, and Maja, who had that dark brown notebook of hers open. She was clearly intending to jot down some notes.

“……”

Getting distracted was a failure on my part. The bow’s weight overpowered the force in my shoulders, causing my balance to crumble. With my shoulders giving way, I thought about drawing the bow again, but to do that I would have to lower my arms. Since I’d already begun the firing sequence, doing so would be against the rules, and automatically result in a miss for this arrow.

There was no other choice. Instead of the intended motion that involved drawing the bow through the shoulders and elbows, I pulled on the string with only my forearms. To make matters worse, I hardly maintained kai. With the string pushing back on the force exerted by my arms to return to its relaxed state, I was unable to withstand it, and let the arrow fly. It was the very model of a sendoff, which is a kind of misfire.

Yet, the arrow hit. Like with Fumihara and Nukata, it dove into the center of the target.

While nocking the remaining arrow, I glanced at Tachiarai and company. It was definitely the three of them. Shirakawa was wearing the blazer of her school uniform, with a milk-colored cardigan draped over. Tachiarai was wrapped up in a black long coat that looked like it was soon reaching the end of its lifespan. Maja had on a sweater and denim pants. I don’t remember telling them that today was the day of the match, so why were they here? But now wasn’t the time to wonder about them. One’s mind should be empty when drawing a bow, so I aimed to reach that mental state. But just as you can be unable to fall asleep if you lie on a bed with the sole thought of going to sleep, it was impossible to intentionally erase my intentions.

I suddenly realized that Nukata was already drawing his arrow, so I hurriedly got into position. When my turn came, I raised and pulled on the bow.

However, my actions were clumsy, and my fourth shot turned out to be clearly terrible. If the match was done in groups of five, I would have had enough time to prepare. Perhaps I should have bent the rules a little and taken a little more time since it was the final shot. But nothing more could be done now. I’d already fired sloppily, without enough draw time.

Yet, the arrow found its way into the target again, striking at the very bottom. It was a miraculous hit.

As for our results, Fumihara hit three out of four shots. Nukata hit two. No luck for Mabuchi. And in the end, I also got two hits. When it was time to leave, we were calm, exiting the training hall with proper deportment and an air of nonchalance.

Once we got outside, Fumihara, who was one step ahead of us, started twisting his neck repeatedly.

“I slept in a bad position last night. It’s nothing serious, though.”

“I’m impressed that you managed to get three hits even in that condition. You seem to be on a roll, think you can make it to the next round?”

“Another three in the afternoon, huh. Well, all I can do is try my best.”

For the individual competition, participants had to get six hits out of eight to qualify to the next round.

Nukata shrugged, then turned towards me and tapped my shoulder chummily.

“The two of us will have to aim for a perfect score, then. Take it easy, eh?”

I could only give a vague reply. Not that I’d been paying much attention, but Nukata looked to be shooting at his usual level today. Indeed, the two of us were tied at two hits on the scoreboard, but… Nukata then called out to the dejected Mabuchi.

“Bad luck, but there’s always next time.”

“Y-Yeah…”

Mabuchi’s arrows were spread neatly in all four directions from the center of the target. No one knew why they missed in that way. That sometimes happened, just as some shots hitting the target couldn’t be easily explained. I could feel an unpleasant sensation building up around my stomach. It wasn’t that I needed to let out a burp, but that I didn’t care whether my arrows hit or missed. It is a sport, after all, and I was no sportsman. But the arrow that should have missed still somehow hit the target, making me feel a little sick.

After that brief post-mortem, the person called the kanteki who checks if an arrow has hit its target, brought us our arrows. The black arrows with a white line going through them were mine. The shafts were made out of duralumin¹⁸. On that topic, my bow was made with glass fiber.

I received my arrows. When I raised my head, I noticed the trio of girls standing behind the kanteki. Worthy of a special mention was Maja, whose cheeks were flushed and looked like her excitement would never die down. However, she must have been informed about manners beforehand, for the voice that came out of her mouth was kept low.

“Moriya-san, that was wonderful! I thoroughly enjoyed it!”

“Ah, that’s good… anyway, you came to cheer me on?”

Tachiarai answered my question.

“Not really. We just told Maja that there was an archery competition going on, and she said she wanted to watch.”

“We did cheer you on, though.”

Shirakawa softly added.

I held no resentment towards the three of them. While my shooting was thrown into disarray due to my surprise at seeing them, the fact that something else entered my eyes while I was aiming at the target was proof that I was distracted in the first place. I might have borne a grudge if they had done some loud cheers, but here there was no one to blame but myself. In any case, I wasn’t even serious about it enough to blame someone for disturbing my aim.

Tachiarai glanced at the bow I was holding, then suddenly remarked.

“Bows are unexpectedly inaccurate, aren’t they? I haven’t seen an arrow miss in the movies.”

“Yeah, they’re as inaccurate as a sidekick’s handgun.”

“How are you feeling?”

“So-so.”

Nukata asked with a grin.

“Moriya, who are they?”

“Ah, right.”

I turned around again. Noticing that, Maja stood at attention.

“This is Maja-san from Yugoslavia.”

“I am Maja. Nice to meet you.”

She bowed. Nukata also lowered his head in response.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too. I’m Nukata Hiroyasu. Hey, you’re really cute, y’know?”

“Really what?”

“Well, I mean…”

That shouldn’t be something to get embarrassed about, though…

Fumihara spoke magnanimously.

“I am Fumihara Takehiko. Please feel free to watch us.”

“Alright, thank you very much.”

Probably feeling shy, Mabuchi was watching these developments a short distance away. Maja never dropped her smile, but didn’t forget to keep her voice low. Consequently, her gestures and actions were exaggerated.

“Hmm, this is unique. The silence is frightening. And in particular, the period where you aim after preparing to shoot made me go like this.”

She hugged her body tightly and curled up. Fumihara nodded happily.

“You must have watching us well to be able to feel the tension of kai… though we aren’t aiming during that.”

“You are the best archer, right? You hit three shots.”

“No, I’m at about the same level as these guys.”

“Hm, then I suppose you are the person with the scariest face while shooting an arrow.”

Though there was no malice behind Maja’s statement, Fumihara had no reply to that. Nukata and I looked at each other and laughed. Maja had indeed been watching us well.

“The match ended, right?”

“…No, there’s more in the afternoon. Moriya will also be in it, so please root for us.”

“I see. I am looking forward to it!”

Maja nodded energetically. Next to her, Shirakawa asked.

“Since you have to continue in the afternoon, you all will be eating lunch, right? Shall we eat together, then? It seems like Maja-san wants to ask some questions as well.”

I unintentionally furrowed my brows. Glancing at Nukata, I noticed that he was making a similar face. He was probably thinking the same thing. I spoke up for us.

“We’ll pass on that. It’s still too early for us to relax.”

While we weren’t exactly giving our all for this competition, intentionally putting ourselves at a disadvantage wouldn’t sit right with us.

“What a shame, what a shame to miss out on your invitation.”

Nukata uttered with what seemed like actual regret. Tachiarai’s reply ran in direct contrast to his.

“It can’t be helped. Standing around and talking will be a nuisance to others, so we’ll be off, then.”

“Right. Good luck in the afternoon.”

Leaving behind those words, Tachiarai and the other girls turned to leave the area. At that moment, a suppressed yet sharp exclamation was directed at us.

“Oi!”

Shirakawa, who was in the act of tapping Maja’s shoulder, cringed upon hearing that voice. I raised my head to see that it was from Kagami, our Archery Club advisor. That would mean that his shout was directed at us Archery Club members. Because the girls missed the timing to retreat, they were facing us, as if they were welcoming Kagami.

Our club advisor was a small man who was fast approaching retirement age. He taught history, but had never been a homeroom teacher. As rude as it was for me to say it, he looked scrawny in a necktie and suit, but strangely enough had a chiseled appearance in a martial arts uniform. Usually, he wore the face of a genial old man ahead of his actual age, but would give off intense looks when he was angry. And he seemed to be angry now. I could guess why. As expected, Kagami planted himself in front of me without looking at the others. As he glared at me from slightly below, I looked down at the ground due to my guilty conscience with regards to the shoot.

“Moriya, what was that shooting about?”

“Uh…”

“Is that what you have to show for two years of archery? Are you hurting anywhere for your drawing to be so inconsistent?”

“No sir, I’m not.”

“The first set was fine, but everything good about your form disappeared in the second. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Kagami folded his arms and sighed.

“…Being held back mentally until the end is a disappointing result. It’s your two years, it’s your shooting form. I don’t care how you conclude it, but leaving behind regrets is painful. There’s a straw target behind the range.”

All I could do was reply, “Yes, sir,” like a good student. Not having any technical instructions for me likely had the implication that nothing more could be done on that front. Seemingly having said his piece, Kagami was about to turn around, but called out to the other members as if he’d just remembered what he wanted to say to them. To Fumihara he said, “Well done”, and to Nukata he said, “You drew well, but don’t lose focus.” Finally, he addressed Mabuchi.

“Your first shot was bad, but it’s good that you recovered for the other three.”

Mabuchi, who had been moping about, looked relieved after hearing that statement.

“T-Thank you, sir.”

“If you feel unsatisfied, try the straw targets. Also, don’t take off your uniform, there’s still the closing ceremony.”

Not waiting for Mabuchi to nod and answer, Kagami went off in a hurry. Now, only four students were in the archery range meant for a group of six. This fraction meant that this was the last group of the individual competition.

It was only then that I noticed that Maja was watching Kagami leave while blinking repeatedly. As I looked at her side profile, she turned her head, and our eyes met.

“Moriya-san.”

“Yeah?”

I replied as if nothing had happened.

“Is that your teacher, Moriya-san?”

“Yes, that’s Kagami-sensei.”

“He was angry at you, is that correct?”

I thought for a while, but couldn’t decide if Maja would know the nuances between “got angry at”, “scolded”, “coached”, “gave a pep talk” and “harangued”, so I nodded anyway.

That caused Maja to groan while making a difficult face, with knitted brows and pursed lips. I wondered what the matter was, but unfortunately I didn’t have the benefit of time. I tried sending Tachiarai a look, asking her to help me deal with Maja afterwards. However, my look was ignored, so I verbally asked Shirakawa to do so. She nodded and pulled on Maja’s sleeve.

“Maja, shall we go eat lunch now?”

“But Izuru, I want to ask Moriya-san…”

“You can do that afterwards, since we can come back here again. We’ll be a nuisance if we stay any longer.”

Hearing those words, Maja reluctantly backed down.

“…When does your shooting start in the afternoon, Moriya-san?”

I had no idea, so I relied on Fumihara, who immediately answered.

“About 3:30. No matter how long it drags on, it won’t be later than four.”

“I see. I will be back at that time. Izuru, Machi-san, is that okay?”

Tachiarai and Shirakawa quickly nodded. Apparently unable to put those questions out of her mind, Maja kept looking back as the three of them walked off.

When they were gone, Nukata seemed to be smirking about something.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just that it’s looking good.”

What is?

Fumihara spoke with a certain degree of interest.

“What did this Maja-san come to Japan for?”

“Dunno. All I heard from her is that she came with her father.”

“So she’s staying at Shirakawa’s house, huh. What about her father?”

“She doesn’t want to be a burden to him.”

Not entirely convinced, Fumihara tilted his head in contemplation, but instantly moved on, taking a short breath and looking at the rest of us.

“Anyway, time for lunch before the afternoon shoot.”

Well, there would be no harm in getting somewhat fired up at the end.

Perhaps I should indeed practice with the straw targets after filling my stomach.

The first part of the afternoon’s schedule was also taken up by the team competition. According to Nukata who went to take a look, Fujishiba Commercial High would be advancing to the next round.

The order for the individual competition was the same as in the day. In other words, we would be the second last group to compete. During the waiting time, Nukata jabbered away, while Fumihara sat still in concentration, no change at all from before. In other words, it was business as usual. I shot a number of arrows into the practice targets before wrapping it up, and waited quietly afterwards. As for Mabuchi, he didn’t qualify for the afternoon shoot, so he was reading a manga with his legs sprawled out, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

A few minutes after the guys from Hisanuma left, the teacher called our names.

Thinking about the actual problem, it would be difficult for Nukata and I to advance to the next round. It was certainly possible to hit every shot with those four arrows, but given our skill level, it would be asking too much to expect us to pull that off at this stage. In the first place, the shooting style that Kagami had taught put us at a disadvantage compared to the more common style used by other schools which focused more on hitting the target. One might be able to consistently hit targets after many years of practice in that direction, but I didn’t intend to do that, and either way there wasn’t enough time for us to reach such a level today.

The shooting order was shifted a little to account for those who didn’t qualify, so this time some Hisanuma students were at the front of the line. We entered the training hall sequentially. At the back of the line was Mabuchi. Though he didn’t make the cutoff in the morning, he took on the responsibility of a string-holder, keeping a reserve of strings should we need to switch them out. From the corner of my eye, I observed Maja, Tachiarai and Shirakawa sitting in the spectator seats.

I stopped directly in front of the fourth target from the right. At about the same time as the lead from Hisanuma, I picked up two arrows and nocked one. After lifting my body up, I composed myself, aimed at the target, and slowly raised the bow.

The arrow I loosed off flew in a perfectly straight path, if I may say so myself, and went slightly above the target. The dirt mound behind the targets must have gone brittle. My arrow dropped and slid off a little after striking it.

The student from Hisanuma had fired off his shot earlier than mine. I looked up to find that Fumihara was already drawing his bow. He neatly released his arrow, which hit the bottom left region of the target. While I was nocking my secondary arrow, Nukata fired. He must have messed up somehow, for the arrow scraped against the ground in front of the target and bounced up, eventually piercing through the target. A skimming hit. Just like with baseball pitches, the arrow bouncing on the ground would unconditionally count as a miss.

I readied my second arrow, drew my bow, and fired. Like a video replay, the arrow traveled in the same trajectory as the first. It hit the primary arrow as if it was sucked in, causing a faint metallic denting sound.

The arrows used in Japanese archery have more than enough power to shatter duralumin. To put it in an overly sentimental manner, the arrows that had gone through thick and thin together with me broke in the final competition, but I did not waver.

I carried on calmly.

After picking up the last two arrows with my right hand, I nocked the primary arrow and held the secondary arrow between my ring finger and little finger. Given that my first two arrows had missed, it might be a good idea to make a slight adjustment to my aim, but I had no intention of doing so. I hadn’t actually realized, but going by it logically, I’d already failed to qualify when I missed the first shot.

I fired off the third shot, which made a lucid whoosh, hitting the black-and-white target slightly above its center.

I switched to the secondary arrow.

It was an automatic action, but it was more than just a mechanical operation, just like life itself.

I nocked the final arrow, then moved my sight along the arrow’s direction without looking at the target, before turning my face back and focusing on the point below my navel. Next I took on a bow-drawing posture, gazed at the target as the bowstring twanged in lower E. With my right hand staying still, I brought my left hand forward. From this one-third draw, I used my elbow strength to move towards a full draw. The string touched my cheek and reached the line of my mouth… kai.

I released the arrow.

As it flew, a short high-pitched noise hit my ears. Only now did I notice that the bowstring had snapped. While it was cheap, this glass fiber bow had been used for over two years, though poor maintenance by its owner who wasn’t meticulous by any stretch had caused it to be damaged here and there. I couldn’t count the number of times I had to change its string. The eight arrows I’d bought when starting out had gradually become tattered over the years, and one of the four arrows I’d bought as replacements was now broken by my hand. But what happened to the final arrow? In an inappropriately careless movement, I suddenly snapped my head towards the target. Unaffected by the broken string, the secondary arrow had landed slightly below the primary arrow, in the very center of the target.

My final score was four hits out of eight.

Eventually, the others’ scores came into view. For Nukata, XOOO. Five hits out of eight. For Fumihara, OXXO. Also five hits out of eight. All three of us failed to qualify for the next round.

We exited the training hall following the appropriate customs, then slightly lowered our heads in the direction of the hall.

The kanteki brought us our arrows. Mine were black with a white line going through them. I received four arrows, but one of them was broken. I carefully wiped off the dirt stuck on the arrowheads.

Someone sighed heavily. It was Nukata. Both he and Fumihara were smiling wryly.

“That was close. I thought the third one would get through.”

“I was a little careless. Anyway, it was close for you as well.”

“It was impossible for me. My first shot missed so I didn’t put much effort in the rest. They just all happened to hit.”

Nukata replied as he started the process of removing his archery glove. Once he was done, he put it in his inner pocket and let out another deep sigh.

“It was also a shame for you.”

I probably had on the same wry smile on my face as them.

“It sure was, but on the other hand, that missing didn’t really mean anything.”

Kagami appeared from behind the training hall. Unlike the afternoon, he was the usual genial old man ahead of his actual age. While lightly waving a hand, approaching us and nodding multiple times, he called out to us.

“Good work!”

Fumihara bowed.

“Thank you for all that you have done for us, sir.”

Upon hearing those words, it suddenly hit me that we would be retiring from the club right after this. I also bowed, and Nukata followed suit. Kagami nodded again.

“It’s a shame that you can’t go to the next round, but from what I can see, it’s not without trying. Is that right?”

Fumihara and I nodded unreservedly, but Nukata sheepishly scratched his head.

“After missing the first shot, I, uh, let my concentration slip.”

But Kagami’s smile grew even wider.

“I see. That might have been a good thing. You might not have noticed, but you become too conscious of trying to hit the target when it comes to competitions. You shot well.”

“…I understand. Thank you, sir.”

Next, Kagami turned towards me.

“Moriya. You pulled yourself together after this morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have the guts to not rely on petty tricks even at the very end. That is your strength… You did well.”

I kept silent and lowered my head again. A pang of guilt hit me for having deceived him over the last two years.

“Fumihara.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve thoroughly taught you that a proper shooting form will always result in a hit, but it was unlucky that you missed twice with your form. Will you be continuing with archery in university?”

Fumihara hesitated a little before responding.

“…I’ve not thought about it yet. We will be taking our entrance examinations soon, after all.”

“Right.”

Kagami let out a short breath.

“Next you have your exams. Do your best.”

“Yes, sir!”

We chanted in unison. Kagami put his hands behind his back, and started slowly walking back to the training hall.

As if they’d been waiting for that moment, someone spoke to us from behind. It was a voice I’d heard before.

“Good work.”

I turned around to see that it was Shirakawa. Of course, Tachiarai and Maja were also with her. Maja was holding a canned sports drink, while Tachiarai was holding two. The latter jerkily thrust the drinks towards us like she was suddenly threatening us with a pair of pistols. But instead of yelling, “Freeze!” she said, “Refreshments.”

“Oh, thanks!”

Nukata casually accepted one, and Fumihara also received one after saying his thanks. Tachiarai couldn’t have thought of getting us refreshments on her own accord, so it must have been suggested by Shirakawa. Pssht! The sound of tabs being pulled could be heard, and the two other boys brought their cans to their mouths at once. I naturally assumed that I would receive mine from Maja, but all she did was zone out while pouting as she’d done in the morning when we parted. Not that I particularly wanted a sports drink, but I asked without thinking.

“What about mine…”

“Oh?”

Having noticed that something was awry, Shirakawa poked Maja’s shoulder with her index finger.

“Maja, Maja!”

With a start, Maja raised her head, but tightened her grip on the can instead of handing it to me. I’d rather not have it be warmed up by her hand. Sport drinks taste terrible when they’re warm, after all. As I had that carefree thought, Maja spoke vigorously, evidently having organized her thoughts.

“Moriya-san!”

Her voice was unexpectedly loud, so I hurriedly put my index finger in front of my mouth. Both her eyes focused on my finger, causing her to go a little cross-eyed.

“What is it?”

“You need to be quiet. There are people still in the competition.”

Maja quickly covered her mouth and looked around at her surroundings. This time, she spoke in a voice that was smaller than necessary.

“…want to ask.”

“Now I can’t hear you.”

“Hm. There is a question I want to ask. Moriya-san, you were praised by your teacher, right?”

“So you were listening to that? Yeah, he did praise me.”

Upon hearing my reply, Maja put strength in her hand again. I felt an ominous sound coming from the can. Did it get dented? Maja’s gaze dropped to her hand, but it wasn’t because she was worried about the can’s shape. “Please hold this for me,” she said as she foisted the can onto Shirakawa, then swiftly retrieved her pen and notebook from her pocket.

“I do not understand that. May I ask about it?”

“Now? Sure, if it’s something I can answer.”

“So… Moriya-san, you hit two shots in the morning. Nukata-san also hit two shots. But your teacher got angry at you, while he praised Nukata-san. I found that to be strange, but after some thought, I realized that he could have expected more from you if you are more skilled than Nukata-san. Yet Fumihara-san said that all three of you are at about the same skill level. That is strange.”

“That’s…” I started, but paying me no heed, Maja pressed on.

“I just watched your afternoon shoot. Moriya-san hit two shots, just like in the morning, Nukata-san hit three, and Fumihara also hit two. And all three of you were praised by your teacher.”

Maja held up two or three of her white fingers whenever she said a number.

“This made me very confused. Why did you get praised, and why did he get angry at you? Is there some special rule in this sport? Or is there a philosophical meaning behind this?”

Being the recipient of such an unsettling word as “philosophical”, I couldn’t help but put on a defensive stance. Come to think of it, she’d used this very term when we first met. For now, all I could say was this:

“There’s no special rule. You get one point if you hit, and zero points if you miss.”

The pen ran across her notebook.

“So why?”

Would she understand if I told her?

It was questionable, but I didn’t have a better solution. All I could do was tell her the truth as it was. I scratched the tip of my nose with my little finger and replied.

“In the morning, I made my teacher angry because my shooting form was bad. In the afternoon, I was praised because my shooting form was good. Nukata was praised in the morning because his shooting form was also good.”

Maja looked at me quizzically.

“Hmm, I still find that strange. I would often get scolded when I did shooting practice in Yugoslavia, but at the final test it would be fine even if I closed my eyes, as long as I hit the target. I think that to be a more logical ethos.”

“When you say shooting, what did you…”

Shirakawa interjected. Seemingly not wanting her train of thought to be derailed, Maja quickly answered with a gesture. Her left palm was moved forward and facing up, while her right hand was pulled back to her right shoulder… that could only be a rifle.

“Maja, is that…”

“I heard that this is a competition.”

She didn’t accept my question. That wouldn’t make me jump to the simplistic conclusion that all Yugoslavians are pushy, though.

“So all you need is to hit the target… no matter how bad your form, hitting the target means you get a point, correct?”

Putting the rifle issue aside…

Maja was not wrong. Now that she mentioned it, there was indeed a contradiction, but we didn’t think of it as such. Explaining that to her would be a tall order. Thinking that Fumihara was more qualified to answer this question, I shot him a look, but he had his arms folded with a stern look on his face. On the other hand, Maja was leaning forward to avoid missing a single word.

At that moment, an extremely clear, high-pitched whoosh rang out.

“Hm?”

The individual competition should have ended, so who just fired an arrow? I looked into the training hall to see Kagami, the young teacher who had called our names earlier, and an old teacher I’d seen a few times before. The three of them were standing in a line and facing the targets. It must be a demonstration.

In the individual competition, student orders are automatically assigned, with the exception of students from the same school being grouped together. But that aside, when multiple people stand in an archery range, the most proficient goes to the last target, while the second-best takes the lead. The three were in the order of Kagami, the name-caller, and the old teacher. Upon hearing the twang of the name-caller releasing his bow, the old teacher started drawing his bow.

“Who’s that?”

Nukata muttered, and Fumihara answered his question.

“He’s a teacher from Fuji Commercial. He’s a renshi¹⁹ sixth dan²⁰, I think.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. Kagami’s a kyoushi²¹ fifth dan, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, then realized that I could use this opportunity to my advantage. I beckoned Maja to look into the training hall.

“What is it?”

“That’s the shooting form of people who are really skilled.”

The elderly teacher performed the same procedures as we had, but there was no hesitation in any single one of his actions. Probably wondering if something special was about to happen, Maja started holding her breath and staring at the archery range. Draw, kai, release. However, the arrow missed. Clearly disappointed, Maja muttered.

“It missed…”

“But don’t you think it was a beautiful shot?”

“Hmm. Da. It was certainly majestic. But it missed.”

Good, that would make it easy to explain. Having found a way forward, I felt at ease.

“Still, that has more value.”

“?”

She peered at me questioningly. While being watched by her black pupils, I answered her doubts.

“We were in a competition, so it is certainly better to win, as you said. However, it can be said that if you win, you should do it in the proper way. And sometimes, it is better to lose while following proper practices than win in an improper manner. That is why my improper shooting form in the morning made my teacher angry, but my proper shooting form in the afternoon caused him to praise me. That’s how it is.”

“Proper and improper? Not skilled and unskilled?”

“Yes. Proper shooting form and improper shooting form. Do you understand that?”

“Hmm…”

Maja frowned, then deftly moved her pen. I caught a glimpse of what she wrote, but it was in her language, so I couldn’t tell what it meant.

Her hand soon came to a complete stop.

“It is not that I do not understand that. Srbija, one of the countries in Yugoslavia, had a famous war. In that war, its king became a hero²². But they actually lost the war. Is that similar to this?

“But Moriya-san… is that a philosophy common to Japan? Or is it a philosophy specific to this sport?”

This mentality probably applied to kendo, judo, and all sorts of activities, but I was unable to say that with confidence. Instead, I decided to go with a more conservative answer.

“…If I had to pick one over the other, it’s specific to the sport, but Sendou and Shirakawa who haven’t done this sport before should be able to understand.”

Maja turned around, and Shirakawa nodded with a light smile.

“Yup. It’s just a feeling, but I think I get it.”

“Is it the same for you, Machi-san?”

“I like thinking about it only in terms of the number of shots hit, but as for whether I understand that mentality, I’d say it comes to me naturally.”

Still holding onto the pen and notebook, Maja folded her arms and groaned a few times, nodding deeply in the process. After that, she jotted something down in her notebook again.

“This is wonderfully interesting. Very interesting. And all of of you who do such a sport are interesting.”

After finishing her note, she gave us a wide grin. Now that the conversation was coming to a close, Nukata, who’d refrained from involved the entire time, took the chance to speak relaxedly.

“Well, that’s how it is.”

Maja responded to that with a vague gesture.

“Ah, I forgot. Here, Moriya-kun.”

Shirakawa handed me the sports drink, which had become a little lukewarm due to the warmth from her hand. Putting my bow with the broken string over my shoulder, I removed my glove and pulled on the can’s tab.

Maja continued writing in her notebook.

As people who practiced kyudo, we were of interest to Maja. But that was due to her being a foreigner. It wasn’t like we were doing anything special, and much less philosophical. While Maja held it in such high regard, it was simply a club activity to us.

At the training hall, the teachers were now on the fourth shot of the demonstration. In the end, Kagami landed only one hit out of four.

3

June 2, 1991 (Heisei 3) – Sunday

It was a damp Sunday in June. I was heading to Fujishiba Station clad in a polo shirt that emphasized breathability over fashion sense. It was a little far, but going there by bicycle would saddle me with the problem of parking space. I would be walking a great deal today, anyway.

As a person with no problems with socializing, I could easily name ten friends, and double that if you count those I’ve recently drifted apart from. However, as one might expect, those friendships were limited to within school, and it was unlikely for me to meet and hang out with them on a Sunday. You could say that it was an incredible stroke of luck that this improbable outing happened to fall during a break in the plum rain season. The sky was clear and cloudless, a stark contrast from the persistent rain that had lasted till the day before. According to science books, June is the month when the sun’s rays are strongest in the northern hemisphere. But even without consulting a book, given that the summer solstice is in June, it is only natural that the weather would be hot when the sun comes out.

Speaking of rain, a month had already passed since that day of spring rain during which we met Maja from Yugoslavia. The girl was apparently working diligently at the inn Kikui, doing odd jobs from washing the dishes and cleaning the bathhouse to tending the souvenir store. I’d heard from Tachiarai that since Maja was such a competent worker, being proficient in Japanese and armed with an unceasing smile, Shirakawa’s parents even gave her a small token of appreciation instead of taking money from her.

Since she came over to watch our match in Mid-May, I’d started seeing her in school, more often than not. Our school was supposedly off-limits to outsiders, but to my knowledge Maja had not been reprimanded for her visits. Being white, she must have caused many heads to turn, but not many people dared to talk to her. Maja usually chatted with Shirakawa and Tachiarai, and was sometimes introduced to their friends. On other occasions, she would amuse herself by making small talk with me. When I inquired if it was worth the time spent, she answered that such small talk was what made school worth going to.

In a sense, that also applied to me, in finding out what I knew and what I didn’t. That sensation, borne from Maja and I being worlds apart, was unique and hard to come by.

According to Shirakawa, Maja usually spent her time reading books. They were mostly books she asked Shirakawa to help her borrow from the Fujishiba Municipal Library, starting with children’s books largely composed of hiragana. It seemed that even with her fluent control of the Japanese language, she couldn’t start reading in one day and one night. Additionally, she was zealous about taking walks, surprising Shirakawa with her leg strength.

Today’s outing was an extension of Maja’s walking. Two days ago, on Friday, she visited Fujishiba High School and said this:

“I will be seeing the city this Sunday.”

Upon hearing that, Tachiarai narrowed her eyes and put on a small grin.

“Using the verb ‘seeing’ in that manner is fresh. Which area do you plan to take a look around?”

“I am aiming for Tsukasa Shrine. I heard that it is the biggest religious facility in Fujishiba City.”

I couldn’t say if it was so involved in religion to call itself a religious facility, but Tsukasa Shrine was indeed the biggest shrine in the city.

“I see. What a shame, if you arrived just a bit earlier you would’ve been in time for the Spring Festival.”

The Spring Festival was the main tourist highlight for events in Fujishiba City, and as Tachiarai said, it had already ended when we first met Maja. However, Maja shook her head.

“Machi-san, I always wish to see the usual appearance.”

That probably wouldn’t be an easy task.

“Hmm, so you’ll be going to Tsukasa Shrine…”

Shirakawa muttered. The phrase “Tsukasa Shrine” must have brought something to mind.

“Hey, Maja. If you’ll be going to Tsukasa Shrine, how about stretching your legs a little more?”

“Stretching your legs?”

“Ah, sorry. I mean, how about going somewhere a little further away? Near Tsukasa Shrine there are streets from the early-modern era… umm, I mean from about three hundred years ago.”

That would refer to the Historical Preservation District north of the Atotsu River. As mentioned before, it was the lifeblood of tourism in Fujishiba City, though residents here wouldn’t normally use such a lengthy name, and would instead call it Nakano Town.

After hearing Shirakawa’s suggestion, Maja put on a troubled face.

“Actually, I tried going there once. But I got lost, so I was unable to. I do not know if I will succeed if I try again.”

“That so? Let’s go together, then. We’ll lead the way.”

Maja became overjoyed, even more than expected. Her face lit up brightly, and with a loud exclamation she held Shirakawa’s hands, which was not a common sight in our everyday lives.

“Da! Izuru, thank you very much. That is a wonderful idea! Please, let us go together.”

Though she’d known her for more than a month already, Shirakawa was apparently still not used to Maja’s intense reactions. While watching her hands being shaken up and down, she slowly replied.

“Alright, we’ll go on Sunday, then.”

Still, I couldn’t understand why she was unable to get to Nakano Town on her own. It wasn’t exactly a place that was hard to find. Eventually, Maja released Shirakawa’s hands and smiled at Tachiarai.

“Machi-san, will you be going as well? I would like to ask you all sorts of things.”

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll come along. But only if the weather’s clear.”

“I also cannot go if it is raining. But what if it is cloudy?”

“Maja, when we say, ‘if the weather’s clear’, it normally means ‘if it isn’t raining’.”

Maja’s notebook and pen had appeared in her hands at some point during the conversation. I’d seen that set multiple times already, but I couldn’t avoid feeling impressed by how fast she would pull it out each time. After taking down a note, Maja directed her black pupils at me.

“Moriya-san, you should come with us too.”

“Me?”

Curiosity got the better of me, and I answered without giving much thought to the matter.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

“Wonderful!”

Maja grinned, but next to her Shirakawa had on a weird expression. Would I be a nuisance by joining their group? But I realized that the one being inconvenienced would be me. To suit Maja’s interests, the reason for that could be summed up in an oriental word: “Moderation”. You could also say it was a disturbance of the harmony of yin and yang. Or to put it in common terms, I would feel awkward hanging out with three girls on a Sunday. I could mentally prepare myself for it, since we were neither doing anything to be ashamed of, nor was I worried about what others would think of me, but I would rather invite one other guy.

“Maja.”

“Da?”

After thinking for a while, I asked.

“I’d like to invite Fumihara as well. Are you fine with that?”

Maja nodded happily.

“Fumihara-san is that archer, right? It will be more fun with more people.”

It was decided that I would get in contact with Fumihara, so on that day, I phoned him.

“Sunday, huh. If I had to say, I’m not exactly free, but I don’t mind.”

He accepted the invitation.

Back to the present.

Among my ten shallow friendships, of which none were worse than any other, I chose Fumihara because I thought it would be better to have someone Maja was already acquainted with. If so, Nukata could have also been an option, but he was too energetic for thorough, unhurried sightseeing. On top of that, while shallow, there were differences in depth for these friendships of mine. I never had a heart-to-heart talk with Fumihara, but I held him in high regard for being a decisive person.

When I reached the station, I found it to be relatively crowded, which made sense for a weekend, though most of the people seemed to be tourists, wearing clothes easy to move around in and carrying large backpacks. I didn’t think June to be a good season for sightseeing, but perhaps not everyone had the freedom to choose the season for it. It wasn’t like there were no dressed-up local youths, but there was only a countable quantity of them. Since Fujishiba Station was made to be convenient for tourists, it wasn’t a very fun starting location for youths looking to spend their weekend.

It was ten minutes before the appointed time. I arrived early since I had nothing better to do, but already standing before the statue of a mounted warrior was a face I knew. It was Fumihara. Both his top and bottom were in shades of indigo close to black. While I wouldn’t call his outfit stylish, he did put in the effort to make himself look more presentable. I’d never seen him in his casual clothes, so it was fresh to learn about his fashion sense. I got close enough to see the whites of his eyes, then raised a hand in place of a greeting. Noticing me, Fumihara did the same in response.

I stood next to him under the statue.

“Sorry for making you come out here when you’re busy.”

Fumihara laughed with only his lips.

“It’s nothing, just the usual studying for entrance exams. No need to worry about me.”

That was a little unexpected.

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to study so diligently.”

“Our time in the Archery Club is over. Next are the entrance exams.”

“Going by order, huh. That makes it easy to understand.”

“I’m stupid, so I need to make it easy to understand. Trouble is, I can’t focus on two things at the same time.”

This time, he also laughed with his eyes. It was the first time I’d heard him talk about himself like that.

I looked at my watch. The appointed time was in five minutes. The other three should be arriving together, but I couldn’t see their figures no matter how much I looked around.

Come to think of it, this was my first time meeting with Tachiarai on a rest day in the two years I’d known her. However, I didn’t think anything of that. No matter how you looked at it, Maja was the main character for today. As she had said, she would likely see many things, and delight in doing so. There might even be things that would greatly capture her interest. I wanted to witness such a scene up close. Also, though I wouldn’t count myself on being knowledgeable, I wanted to help her out if I could. Thinking about it now, that was the reason why I was asked to be here today.

As I had that thought, Fumihara spoke in a voice lacking in enthusiasm, clearly doing so only to kill time.

“I never knew you had such an interest.”

Since I had been thinking about Maja, I shot back without thinking.

“About Maja?”

“No?”

For a moment he looked confused, probably wondering why that name would come up.

“I meant, I didn’t know you had an interest in going sightseeing on a Sunday.”

I felt that the statement was a little sarcastic, though Fumihara likely didn’t mean it that way.

“What interests did you think I have, then?”

He muttered, “Lemme think,” before falling into silence. I waited for a while, but he was looking down and didn’t seem like he would respond. I glanced at my wristwatch again and scanned the crowd for Maja and the rest.

But it turned out that Fumihara was not withholding his words, just that he was trying to put his thoughts together. Out of the blue, he muttered.

“Well, I suppose it’s more accurate to say I didn’t think you had any interests.”

“What’s the difference?”

Fumihara faltered a little, seemingly finding it difficult to articulate his thoughts. However, it wasn’t in his character to give up midway, so he eventually said it all at once.

“I can’t imagine you dedicating yourself to or getting immersed in something. Even for archery, it wasn’t like you were staking anything on it.”

I let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah, I’ll admit that’s true. I might not be as passionate as you, but if you don’t mind me saying, aren’t you in the minority? Nowadays, focusing on club…”

“I have no intention of devoting myself to archery. But that aside, Nukata doesn’t give off that impression, for example. He’s not so absorbed in archery, but it doesn’t feel weird if there’s something he’s deeply interested in. Doesn’t it seem like he would be into western music or something like that?

“On that point, I feel that it’s unexpected for you to be interested in doing something.”

After taking a breath, his faced turned sour.

“I didn’t mean that as a criticism. Did that offend you?”

Rather than being offended, I was taken aback that I could be seen in that light, but since he’d taken the initiative to say such a thing, all I could think of doing was to deliberately act cheerful, so I smiled.

“It’s just because you don’t know me that well. I can’t blame you. I haven’t brought my interests out in the open, that’s all.”

Fumihara didn’t ask about those interests. All he did was give a sheepish reply.

“Ah, I see, so I was wrong. Sorry for bringing up something so trivial.”

He then sank into silence. I preferred him that way, rather than him being too talkative. I followed suit, and the two of us waited silently under the statue of the mounted warrior.

Not that I found the time that passed to be awkward, but we did not have to wait for long. I noticed Maja coming over from behind the train station building, followed by Tachiarai and Shirakawa. Tachiarai was wearing a white collared shirt and a pair of white pants with wide legs, a combination that looked cooling. The other two were in matching dresses; Maja’s was sky-blue, while Shirakawa’s was pink.

Shirakawa called a greeting at us while they were still quite a distance away. When they got closer, Maja politely lowered her head.

“Good morning. Thank you for coming over today.”

I returned a casual greeting. It wouldn’t do to let Maja misunderstand that bowing too formally is a common act.

With all five of us gathered, Tachiarai looked up at the sun, as if she was glaring at it. While the air was thick with humidity, the sunlight was strong, as expected of summer. But even Tachiarai’s stare did not manage to shoot the sun down. She returned her gaze to the ground, and spoke without a smile.

“Looks like it’s getting hot.”

In a formation where Tachiarai and Shirakawa were in the front to lead Maja, we set off. Fumihara and I were at the back. We surrounded Maja, as if we were a bevy of security police guarding a VIP.

We moved north of Fujishiba Station. To attract tourists, the road from the station to Nakano Town boasted wide, paved footpaths, and had its electrical cables buried underground. The station was located in the southern portion of the city, so we would have to cross the Atotsu River to reach Nakano Town in the north.

“Seems like a long time since I took a walk here.”

Shirakawa giggled.

“Guests always recommend this, but it’s been years since I’ve been here in Nakano Town. What about you, Machi?”

Tachiarai replied with a voice filled with mirth.

“Who knows? I don’t remember.”

It was the same for me. I’d passed by many times, but since it wasn’t an area I had any particular business with, I hadn’t set foot inside for a considerable period of time.

Fumihara addressed Maja from over her shoulder.

“Maja-san, do you look around the area where you live?”

She turned around.

“Yes, I do often look around. It is necessary to compare my city with other cities overseas.”

“I see. How much in a year are you overseas?”

“About half a year.”

I’d only crossed a sea once in my life. That was the Seto Inland Sea²³, and the means of transportation was a car. I also asked her a question, though that wasn’t because she’d turned around.

“Don’t you get homesick?”

She didn’t reply. Even though she’d already localized into the Japanese language, it seemed that the English language²⁴ was still impossible for her. Noticing that, I rephrased my question.

“Don’t you miss Yugoslavia?”

After a brief pause, Maja answered in an especially bright manner.

“I do not particularly miss Yugoslavia, but I do sometimes get the feeling of wanting to go home. I have many friends in my town, and I want to see them. I also want to eat food that I am used to.”

Shirakawa showed meticulous consideration here.

“I can make it for you if you teach me how.”

“Thank you, Izuru. But you might not be able to get the ingredients in Japan. Also, I like your cooking.”

“I’d like to at least let you drink some Yugoslavian-style coffee.”

Maja chuckled.

“That might be the most difficult of them all²⁵.”

As we approached the Atotsu River, Shirakawa suddenly stopped in her tracks.

“Ah, I just remembered!”

“What is it?”

“I wanted to buy a handkerchief for Maja. Hold on, I’ll be back soon.”

Thanks to Shirakawa’s words, I only now noticed that we were in front of a supermarket. She would likely be able to buy a handkerchief there. With a small trot, she entered the store.

While waiting for Shirakawa, Maja looked curiously into the supermarket. I called out to her.

“Have you not seen these kinds of shops before?”

She forced a smile and shook her head.

“These are called supermarkets in Japan, right? I know about them.”

Tachiarai piped up.

“They stock up in bulk and sell in bulk. They’re the fruits of capitalism.”

“Um, Machi-san, there are these kinds of stores in Yugoslavia as well. They are called Samoposluga.”

“Oh.”

That was quite rude of me and Tachiarai. Come to think of it, I’d heard of something like this. There was a civil war in some country in West Asia, and some citizens of a developed country were heartbroken by that tragic situation, so they sent over charcoal-heated clothing irons as foreign aid²⁶. It never crossed their minds that there was electricity running in other countries. I’d laughed when hearing this story, but I was not much different back there. That aside, there was a phrase in that exchange which piqued my interest.

“My city is big; it is a cut above the rest. It also has a Samoposluga. Um, but I have also often bought things from the market, where the people who produce those things sell them directly.”

I directed a question at Tachiarai’s side profile.

“Sendou, why did you call it the ‘fruits of capitalism’?”

She looked annoyed, but answered anyway.

“Maja’s from the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, so it’s a socialist country, right?”

“Ah, right. It must be tough with all that mess with the Soviet Union.”

Maja put on another dry smile upon hearing our exchange.

“Machi-san, Yugoslavia is actually practicing capitalism already. That is my father’s job. Moriya-san, Yugoslavia had a very bad relationship with Sovjetski Savez²⁷. Though I have many Rus friends.”

“Rus?”

“Uh, that means Russian people.”

She then spoke somewhat lamentably.

“It is a harsh reality for us, but it looks like that has not been conveyed to Japan.”

“Sorry, Maja.”

“No, it is fine. My friends probably cannot tell the difference between Tokyo and Kyoto, and they definitely cannot tell the difference between temples and shrines. It is what it is.”

Her final sentence sounded so natural and unlike what one would expect of a foreigner that I couldn’t help but erupt into a short chuckle. Maja came from so far away, yet she sometimes felt so close to us.

Before long, Shirakawa returned.

“Thanks for waiting.”

What she bought was a white, laced handkerchief embroidered with dandelions.

“Here. Sorry that it’s cheap.”

“Thank you, Izuru. I will take it.”

We set off again, and the road immediately led to Ronden Bridge. We would arrive at Nakano Town after crossing this bridge.

Atotsu River, which Ronden Bridge was built on, was a typical Japanese river, being narrow in width and with a swift current. Also as per usual, some levee protection work was being done, so we were unable to enjoy the original river scenery. It might not be much of a replacement, but cherry trees were planted on both sides of the river. In spring, the branches hanging over the Atotsu River with blooming cherry blossoms would be a sight to behold. Only in spring, unfortunately for us.

Placing a fist on her hip, Shirakawa sighed.

“Spring’s over, huh.”

The cherry blossoms had fallen to the ground long ago, and had all become new leaves. That made the trees sound more spectacular, but at this stage they were in fact plain broad-leaf trees.

“Wish I could’ve shown you that.”

However, Maja still found some enjoyment in the situation. “Ah!” She exclaimed while pointing at the area by the bridge’s entrance.

“I can see a bulletin board.”

A bulletin board? Did she mean to say notice board or signboard? But there was indeed what looked to be a so-called “bulletin board” standing where Maja was pointing. With a proud smile, she puffed out her chest.

“I know what is written there.”

Fumihara opened his eyes wide in astonishment.

“That’s impressive. I didn’t even know that was there.”

It was certainly amazing that she noticed that.

Tachiarai asked.

“So what’s written there?”

“Alright.”

Maja closed her eyes.

“Do not cross this bridge.”

The strength went out of me. That probably happened at the same time for all four of us.

“Maja…”

“Heh.”

“Really? That old cliché?”

Knowing that witty tale²⁸ was definitely incredible in its own way.

Not paying any heed to the cries of protest, modest enough to not disturb international harmony, Maja walked towards the signboard. She stared at it for a moment, but immediately shook her head.

“There are many words I cannot read.”

Hearing Maja’s lament, Fumihara moved forward.

“Let’s see…”

It didn’t seem to be a very long passage.

“It’s about this bridge’s origin.”

“Origin? I am interested.”

“I’m not sure if I can summarize it well, but I’ll give it a shot.”

Fumihara carefully read the sign, then made a small nod and started explaining.

“In the year 1754, some money was stolen from a merchant’s storehouse. The merchant wished for his money to be returned at a nearby shrine… in other words, he prayed to the spirits²⁹. Soon after, he found his money. Feeling thankful, he decided to use his money for good, and greatly improved this bridge. Before that, only people could cross Ronden Bridge. For the most part, that’s what it says.”

“…That is interesting! But?”

Maja looked dubiously at the bridge. It was a concrete bridge, paved with asphalt. While it generally looked plain, there were some decorative ornaments like giboshi³⁰ that helped evoke a sense of wanderlust.

“It does not look like a bridge from that long ago. Did it get destroyed?”

“It was rebuilt in Showa Year 59.”

Shirakawa read a description on the railing.

“Hm, right, Japan’s old bridges are made of wood. They would not last long… But it is rare for a merchant to build a bridge.”

With that comment, Maja seemed to sink into thought for a moment, before eventually giving a start as if she’d just realized something, and asking Fumihara a question.

“Fumihara-san, you said that he prayed to the spirits, right?”

Showing great prudence, Fumihara turned back to look at the sign, checked the passage there and nodded.

“Yes, he prayed to the spirits.”

A small notebook and pen appeared from Maja’s sky-blue dress. She held the notebook in her left hand and the pen in her right, then sharpened her gaze.

“Would it not usually be to Buddha, rather than to the spirits?”

Because the question was so sudden, even Fumihara was unable to answer, and instead sent me a troubled look. Did people at that time usually pray to Buddha or to the spirits?

But before that…

“Maja, you know the difference between Buddha and the shinto spirits?”

Maja gave me a light smile.

“I roughly understand, I think. Izuru taught me about it.”

“Only as far as I know.”

Shirakawa added shyly. Come to think of it, she did imply that she could tell the difference between temples and shrines earlier. Inwardly, I was astounded. In a manner of speaking, it was like us knowing the difference between Catholic and Protestant. No, it can’t be such a low level, it should be like differentiating the Greek Orthodox Church from the Russian Orthodox Church… I didn’t even know where my analogy was going.

Next to me, Tachiarai was tilting her head in contemplation.

“Making a wish… if it was the ohyakudo³¹, it would be to the spirits.”

“Ohyakudo?”

Maja parroted.

“It’s a charm.”

Tachiarai’s answer was brief and to the point. It wasn’t wrong, but a charm could refer to those written in girls’ magazines. Language sense was certainly not Tachiarai’s strong suit. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter smile.

“Charm? Is that a mystical ritual?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

Shirakawa and Tachiarai then began listing examples of making wishes.

“Praying to pass an exam would be at a shrine. And you can hang ema³² at a Tenmangu³³.”

“If you want to pray for children, you do it at a Buddhist temple, I think… but I often hear of jizo³⁴ for healthy childbirth.”

“Shrines seem like they would accept wishes for childbirth, and if you can do it at jizo, it should be fine anywhere, right? As for relying on the spirits in times of trouble, that should include Buddha as well, I believe³⁵.”

They raised an unexpected number of examples. The two of them were speaking quite quickly, so Maja, who was unable to catch what they were saying, looked at them quizzically.

“Um, Izuru, what were you saying? What in times of trouble?”

“Relying on the spirits in times of trouble. It means normally not believing in the spirits, but relying on them when in trouble.”

Maja smoothly jotted down a note, then hummed, apparently intrigued by that idiom.

“…This is interesting.”

“Are you interested in these kinds of things?”

Maja firmly nodded.

“Yes, it is today’s central theme.”

I never thought a walk could have a central theme.

Maja used the back of her hand to hit the railing of Ronden Bridge. The metallic bridge produced a dry knocking sound.

“In Yugoslavia, most bridges carry some symbolic meaning. They are buildings that can represent a city.”

“That sounds familiar…”

As if trying to grasp her vague recollections, Shirakawa’s gaze wandered in the air. Fumihara responded.

“It was difficult to construct a stone bridge. There must have been some legends.”

“What kind of famous bridges are there?”

Maja tilted her head.

“Um, there are many famous bridges. My city is like Fujishiba, with one river flowing through the middle of the city. That is why it has many bridges. But the most famous bridge in Yugoslavia is Mostar Bridge. Many people jump off from there every year.”

“It’s a place famous for suicides?”

I interjected without thinking, but Maja grinned.

“No, there is such a festival, you know?”

Ah, so it isn’t so high that one would die falling from it. Shirakawa chuckled.

Eventually, the tourists greatly increased in number, and we could start seeing the early-modern streetscape in between the heads and bodies of people. We would be in Nakano Town after waiting for the green signal and crossing the junction.

Houses made of black wood endlessly lined the road, with their doors so low you had to bend down to enter. Compared to a modern street, the buildings here were shorter, giving off the impression that the street itself was stagnant, and combined with the dark colors, made it seem all the more solemn. The houses were decorated with wooden lattices that jutted out from the front, making us feel the era they were built in. Still, it was impossible to cover up the feeling of artificiality that this entire place was being preserved as a tourist attraction first and foremost.

“Nakano Town used to be where the merchants lived.”

Shirakawa started explaining after being begged by Maja to do so.

“Even now in the remnants of that age, many houses here are still being used for business. Look, it’s some kind of clinic.”

Hanging next to the wooden door of the house she was pointing at was a plate with the words “Internal Medicine, Pediatrics, Proctology”. I felt a tinge of unease looking at that sign. Would such a clinic practice modern medicine?

After surveying the streetscape, Maja let out a heavy breath that sounded like a sigh.

“It is really black… Is there a philosophical meaning behind it being so black?”

“No, rather than a philosophical meaning…”

Apparently knowledgeable about the topic, Fumihara explained.

“Merchants were only allowed to use certain types of wood, but those who wanted to use better wood would painted it black. If I remember it correctly, rouge was mixed with soot, then the surface is coated with perilla oil.”

But Maja looked confused partway through.

“Um, rouge? Soot?”

Fumihara calmly added.

“Rouge is iron oxide… or rust. Soot is the black substance that comes out when something is burnt, and perilla is the name of a plant.”

I cut in.

“You’re surprisingly knowledgeable.”

“What do you mean, surprisingly?”

He snapped, but didn’t seem displeased.

Maja removed her hand that was resting on a pillar and stared carefully at her fingers, seemingly worried about dirt. But of course, nothing got stuck there. She then let out another deep breath.

“I see. Also, you said that it was coated with oil?”

Imitating Maja, I stroked the pillar.

“I don’t know if it’s perilla, but it’s still being coated with oil now. It would rot otherwise.”

“Um, wood is also used in Yugoslavia. It is also coated in oil. But I never thought that people would make it black.”

“That’s interesting and all, but…”

Tachiarai spoke in a loud voice.

“Let’s try not to get separated.”

I’d expected Nakano Town to be a little empty since it was the off-season, but my expectations were betrayed, and it was actually quite crowded. On top of that, it was a district constructed during the Edo period, when bicycle traffic had not been conceived of yet. With the streets being so narrow, the density of human traffic was quite high. I studied the visitor base to find that they were mostly in their forties and above. That probably meant that we were in the lowest age demographic in this crowd. While it wasn’t so chaotic that one wouldn’t have the room to stop and take a look at something that caught their eye, it was certainly possible for us to lose each other, as Tachiarai had warned. Pushed on by the flow of people, we started walking again.

“We made her angry.”

“Nah, Sendou isn’t angry. That’s just how she talks… anyway, it sure is crowded.”

“Hmm, I always thought that the tourist industry is too volatile, so it is not worth to have as a cornerstone of the economy, but now I cannot say that is so. Seeing all this makes you more inclined to spend money, right?”

She muttered while looking at a bustling souvenir shop.”

“Yugoslavia needs to learn more from this.”

I was already vaguely aware along the way here, but Maja’s walking speed was slow in general. She looked like her movements would be nimble, but she was actually quite slow-paced. It was even worse since we stepped into Nakano Town. Her walking speed became increasingly stagnant as her curiosity was seemingly piqued here and there. Thus I made a conscious decision to stay behind Maja. This way, I wouldn’t need to worry about her straying off.

Exactly as expected, this Maja was peering at a black landscape at the end of a corner, and starting to take down some notes. She murmured, half to herself.

“So this is really all made of wood… it is very different from what I have read.”

“This situation can be expressed with the phrase, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words.’”

I also tacked on a joke, which was quite uncharacteristic of me.

“Another similar saying is, ‘A paradise on hearsay, a hell at sight.’”

Whirling around, Maja opened her eyes wide in surprise, apparently not having noticed that I’d gone behind her. However, the smile soon returned to her face.

“Thank you for teaching me something new… though I might not be able to memorize it right away.”

“It’s fine, take your time.”

It was just a joke, so I didn’t exactly want her to memorize it anyway.

As I had that thought, my name was called by a loud voice.

“Moriya!”

It was Fumihara. The other two were next to him. The gap between us had opened up too much without me noticing. Putting on an embarrassed grin, I trotted off towards them.

We reached a crossroads in the middle of Nakano Town. A woman in an outfit I imagined a guide would wear was holding up a flag with the name of a travel agency. I thought earlier that there were so many people for the off-season, but it seemed that we’d run into a tour group. We would’ve been more free to walk around if we’d come here earlier or later. What were they doing here, strutting about with their Boston bags and cameras? Ashamed that such an insolent thought would cross my mind, I shook my head to get rid of it.

The stuffiness and heat only continued to increase, making the air feel suffocating. On the other hand, the relentless sunlight showed no sign of waning, causing sweat to seep out of my skin. I took a black hand towel from my pocket and used it to lightly dab my forehead.

Like earlier, I was walking behind Maja. Unlike her, I had nothing to gain from Nakano Town. Of course, if I set my mind to it, I could make a few amateur scholarly discoveries, or learn some new knowledge about Fujishiba City’s tourism industry. However, I didn’t think about wanting to do that for even a second. All I did was vaguely match Maja’s walking speed, while gazing at the streetscape that had her in it rather than the town itself.

Before my eyes were black houses and Maja’s white skin that peeked out of her dress… a peculiar emotion came over me. I suddenly felt that it was strange for this scene from the late stages of the Edo period to be left in the modern era, for me to be by Maja’s side in Fujishiba City. If I were given the chance… no, if I felt like it, I should be able to physically touch a larger variety of things. Such a hunch arose within me.

Just now, Fumihara spoke about how he couldn’t imagine me staking something on anything. That was actually true. I hadn’t found anything that I would want to bet on, hadn’t come into contact with anything worth it. That couldn’t be helped, I thought. It was a price to pay for living a trouble-free life in 20^th century Japan. But were those things actually that far away? Especially when Maja was currently here with me?

Yugoslavia. What kind of country was it?

…I spaced out, which was bad of me. As a result, I collided into Maja.

“Ah!”

Maja squeaked. I was about to apologize, but before I knew it my right wrist was grabbed. It wasn’t very strong, but with my joint in a grip, I was unable to move. My face contorted.

“Ow!”

“Ah, so it was you, Moriya-san… Sorry.”

A splash of red seemed to materialize on Maja’s white face. She must have thought that she was being assaulted by a pickpocket or a molester, and displayed the sleight of hand that an expert on TV would possess. While I was impressed, my bones hurt.

In a flash, she released my wrist from her grip, and I rubbed it in an affected manner.

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

I’d heard that only Japanese people smile shyly, but that must be a lie, because Maja probably had a shy grin on her face right now. Or did she learn even that?

“I got a little too carried away.”

“I’m happy that you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Replying with a smile, I looked to the front.

It was then that I noticed.

“…?”

Likely wondering why I was frozen, Maja followed my gaze. There was only a group of tourists, but that was exactly the problem. I clicked my tongue.

It seemed that Maja finally understood the situation, if a little late, although she didn’t appear to be that anxious about it.

“Hmm, where are Izuru and the rest?”

I slipped past Maja, stood right in the middle of the crossroads and scanned my surroundings. However, my vision was blocked by the throngs of people, and I was unable to see as much as I wanted to. If I shouted out loud, Tachiarai and the rest would be able to hear it, but that was an absurd method that I didn’t want to use.

Basically…

“My Japanese is still not very good. How do you express this situation? I think Machi-san said it just now, but…”

With gravitas, I educated her.

“We got se-pa-ra-ted.”

“That’s it!”

This wasn’t the time to be delighted, though…

Seriously, what a disaster. We weren’t toddlers or kindergartners, yet we’d gotten separated even when we’d been warned not to. Feeling ashamed of myself, I waited for a moment, but the others did not show up. Did they not notice that we were missing, or were they searching for us over there… What should we do?

“Moriya-san, Moriya-san.”

Maja was still optimistic.

“In a situation where two people are in different locations in a maze and want to find each other, should one of them stop, or should both of them move? Do you know the answer?”

I stopped in the middle of the street to contemplate the question. I couldn’t think of any logical reasoning, so I went with my gut feeling.

“One of them should stop?”

Maja shook her head.

“You’re saying that we should look for them?”

But Maja did not deny my suggestion, and only put on a meaningful smile.

“If no arrangement was made beforehand, it should be decided by the maze’s size and original locations of the two people.”

“…”

That didn’t help at all.

I let out a sigh. Well, we weren’t exactly lost in a foreign land. We could get out of this problem with transceivers or mobile phones, but there was no way any of us would have those. In any case, getting separated from them here didn’t mean that we wouldn’t see them again. Instead of moving around unpredictably, the best solution would be to hope to meet up at Tsukasa Shrine. I told that to Maja, and she didn’t seem to have any objections.

Everyone should know that we would be heading to Tsukasa Shrine after reaching Nakano Town. If they did some searching and didn’t find us, they would probably think of meeting us there. Maja seemed to have seen enough of Nakano Town, so she quickened her pace without me saying anything, and we eventually put the early-modern era streets behind us. We exited to the Main Street of Fujishiba City. It was lined with show windows, and the average age plummeted. The roadway was now in use again, and the odor of exhaust fumes returned. We were now about fifteen minutes’ walk from Tsukasa Shrine.

We should head there immediately, but… I looked at my wristwatch to see that it was almost two. While I hesitated to speak, Maja said it readily.

“To tell you the truth, I feel hungry.”

I wholeheartedly agreed.

Shirakawa might have been able to come up with some good places to eat, but now that we were lost, there was nothing else we could do. Let’s just eat something and move on. When I asked Maja if there was anything in particular she wanted to eat, she put her index finger on her lips in thought.

“Anything’s fine. It’s my treat.”

“Hmm, sushi, unagi, and tempura…”

“Hold up.”

“…Anything but those are fine!”

Good grief. Maja seemed to really enjoy corny jokes.

“Well, I would like to eat whatever you usually eat.”

I should have seen that coming.

As someone who wasn’t a foodie, or particular fond of going out with friends, I was never picky about food. If I were to really introduce what I usually ate, it would be a bento or rice balls from a shop in the street corner. Not that I was trying to show off, but I wanted to present something a little more interesting.

But thinking about it, we couldn’t take too much time. Tachiarai and the rest could be waiting for us, after all. Though it would be somewhat dull, we could only go for fast-food. I recalled that there was a shop on the way to Tsukasa Shrine that perfectly fit the bill, so I gestured at Maja, urging her to move.

“Right, let’s go.”

“Alright.”

In Nakano Town, we’d seen many groups of people in the middle to high age range, but on this street pairs of middle to high school students had a large presence. They were each dressed elaborately, and probably according to some popular fashion, for I couldn’t help but notice that the types of clothes and their color combinations were somewhat similar. To me, there wasn’t much difference between the groups of tourists at Nakano Town and those strutting around Main Street.

We walked through the street and turned at a few intersections. With red being the universal color for stop, Maja naturally also stopped whenever the light turned red.

Tsukasa Shrine was just straight from here, and the shop we were looking for was located along this road. It was a bypath, so the number of cars and people drastically decreased. The shop’s landmark was a bold yellow signboard with its name written in a cursive red font. It was an eel’s bed shop, with a narrow frontage and spacious interior. At the storefront was a young shopkeeper I recognized, reading a magazine in a bored manner. When he saw my face, he closed the magazine and put on a smile.

“Welcome. Long time no see.”

He had a buzz cut, was built like a rugby player, and was wearing a pure white apron that gave off a sense of cleanliness. I didn’t know his name. By chance, I was passing by when the shop opened, and afterwards I occasionally stopped there for food. They sold hotdogs. Even I, with my unrefined palate, could tell that their homemade Frankfurt sausages were different from the rest. According to the shopkeeper, the bread existed for the sake of the hotdogs. As I examined the menu, which was limited in variety as a trade-off for the taste of hotdogs being perfected, the shopkeeper refastened his apron and asked.

“You alone?”

“No?”

There should be two of us. I turned around.

She wasn’t there.

Thinking that I probably looked stupid, I turned back to face the shopkeeper.

“Was I always alone?”

He frowned.

“Spring ended a long time ago. You alright?”

It seemed that I was indeed alone. From a group of five youths, we’d gone down to two, and now I’d also lost Maja. Even Mother Goose would be shocked by my situation. I’d have to search for her before we all disappeared.

“Sorry, I got separated from my companion. I’ll go search for them for a while.”

With those words, I turned away from the shrugging shopkeeper and returned to the road I came from. If memory served me right, Maja was wearing a sky-blue dress. Moreover, her actions were not very Japanese-like in certain aspects. She should stand out, assuming that she hadn’t entered some strange place.

I thought it would be troublesome if I had to try looking for her at the Main Street, but thankfully, before that was necessary, I found her near an intersection. You’re not a kid anymore, don’t make me have to hold your hand, such a thought flashed in my head, but thinking about it, given that I’d separated from Tachiarai and the rest, I was in no position to say anything.

This time, it seemed that she was interested in a post box, and was stooping and having a staring contest with it. A middle-aged man was holding an envelope next to her, a bewildered look on his face. I jogged to Maja and spoke to her in a small voice.

“This is where you put in the mail.”

“Yes, I know that, but what is this sign?”

Maja pointed at the 〒 mark at raised her head, but I grabbed her arm and led her away from the post box. I then lowered my head at the middle-aged man, who produced a polite smile and dropped his envelope into the box. While watching him move away, I explained.

“That’s the postal mark. Anything with that is related to the postal service.”

Maja’s gaze wandered in the air.

“Is there…”

Pre-empting her question, I answered before she finished asking.

“There’s no philosophical meaning to it. You know about hiragana and katakana, right? The postal service used to be called teishin in the past, and that sign is simply te in katakana.”

She opened her left palm and used her right hand to trace out the letter テ. A quick moment later, she laughed out loud.

“Ah! What on earth!”

It was certainly a ridiculous design. Forgetting what I was about to say, I also laughed. We returned to the store, still laughing, and the shopkeeper’s mouth went wide open when he caught sight of Maja. In a voice that sounded like it was squeezed out of his throat, he exclaimed.

“Well, well, another cute girl!”

Maja bowed gracefully.

“I thank you very much for your wonderful compliment.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

“What’s up with her?”

I answered with a somewhat bitter expression.

“She’s staying at the house of someone I know. She’s a… let’s just say she’s a student.”

“A foreigner, eh? Not that I know about other countries.”

Not paying any heed to the shopkeeper who’d let slip an incomprehensible remark, I showed Maja the menu. However, she immediately returned it to me, as if it was bothering her.

“Please give me something delicious.”

I was about to order for the two of us, but hesitated. Just in case, I asked.

“Maja, is there anything you can’t eat due to religious reasons?”

She widened her eyes in surprise, then put on a light smile.

“No. Thank you for your concern, but I have no problem with the food here.”

Good.

“Two cheese dogs, please. She’s an important guest, so please take extra care.”

The shopkeeper smiled wryly at my light joke.

“C’mon, when have I cut corners? Anyway, two cheese dogs, right? Thanks for coming again. Are you taking them to go? Or are you eating them here?”

I exchanged looks with Maja, who nodded… though I didn’t know what that meant. Then again, since we might be waiting the rest wait, there wasn’t the luxury of choice.

“We’ll take them to go.”

“OK. Just wait for about five minutes… Ah, right.”

The shopkeeper retreated to the back of the store, then returned with something on a plastic tray. He passed it to me over the counter, and it turned out to be a set of red-white daifuku³⁶.

“There was a festival at my father’s place yesterday. I was given this, but I’m bad with mochi. You can have it if you want.”

I was feeling hungry, so I gratefully accepted.

I sat down at a bench by the storefront to wait for the hotdogs to be done. After that, I pushed the tray towards Maja, who stared at the two daifuku with intense curiosity.

“Um, do these have different flavors?”

It was a set of red-white daifuku, so one was red and the other was white. Technically, the difference was in the red food coloring, but as for their taste…

“They’re the same, I think.”

“So it is just for coloration?”

She used yet another mellifluous word. But unfortunately, her guess was wrong. I shook my head and smiled.

“No. This time, it’s for a ‘philosophical meaning’.”

Maja tilted her head quizzically.

“In Japan, red and white are a set which represents auspiciousness. This came from a festival, so it is red and white. You know what ‘auspicious’ and ‘festival’ mean, right?”

“Da. Yes.”

“When these two colors are together, we use it a special term, ‘red-white’. Also, these are mochi. In Japan, mochi is eaten during auspicious occasions.”

A deep sigh emerged from Maja’s lips. She then stared intently at the red-white daifuku again, her gaze filled with respect and awe. She pulled back her hand that was reaching out.

“…Interesting. So this is a divine food…”

Her statement made me flustered. That was too much of a misunderstanding.

“No, it’s not like that. ‘Auspicious’ is a lot more common than ‘divine’.”

I hurriedly said, then pinched the white daifuku and ate it whole.

“You eat it like this.”

Maja looked wonderingly at me and the red daifuku in turn. Suddenly, her face lit up, and she also picked up the daifuku and put it into her mouth. She chewed well, swallowed, then stuck out her tongue.

“It is sugary sweet!”

Feeling exactly the same way, I went to the shopkeeper and requested for a glass of water.

With a weird expression that looked like she was smiling and frowning at the same time, Maja retrieved her pen and notebook while sipping some water. Anyway, she sure learned some odd vocabulary. If I went to Yugoslavia, I probably wouldn’t learn phrases like “sugary sweet”.

After receiving the fragrantly cooked hotdogs packed in a paper bag, as well as two ginger ales, I paid for both of us. As he was handing me the change, the shopkeeper glanced at Maja, who was now staring at a vending machine, before giving me a meaningful laugh.

“…What is it?”

“This one’s better, I say. The tall girl you brought over the other time was a beauty, but she seemed kinda cold.”

I was wondering what he was about to say to me, but it turned out to be complete nonsense.

“She’ll be returning to her home country soon. See you next time.”

Dangling the paper bag in one hand, I wet over to Maja, who was reaching afar with her hands as if she couldn’t lock her joints properly, and tapped her on the shoulder. She whirled around and nodded.

“Yes, let us go.”

After passing the hotdog shop, the road immediately led to the worshiper’s path towards Tsukasa Shrine.

While I might call it the worshiper’s path, it was just a direct route to the shrine, so it wasn’t necessarily purified. I didn’t think the shrine itself had an impressive origin story like other historical sites, but many tourists could be seen visiting it, and both sides of the road were lined with souvenir shops.

Maja asked as we walked on.

“Moriya-san, regarding what we were talking about just now, you said that mochi are considered auspicious in Japan, correct?”

“Yeah, we often eat them during New Year’s Day. You know what New Year’s Day means, right?”

“Da. So, are mochi ever dedicated to the spirits or to the Buddha?”

Dedicating mochi to the spirits would be an overstatement, but they could certainly be left as offerings.

“Yeah, they can.”

Upon hearing that, Maja repeatedly nodded, visibly moved.

“Earlier, when I was looking at the postal… you call it a post box, right? Someone was talking about bringing mochi to Tsukasa Shrine.”

Huh, so there were still commendable people in this day and age.

A big stone torii³⁷ came into view. Thankfully, it wasn’t vermilion-lacquered, because I wouldn’t know how to answer if Maja asked why it was vermilion in color. Actually, on second thoughts, I could easily answer. That was just the color of paint. As I was having that thought…

“Hm?”

Maja suddenly crouched.

“What’s the matter?”

“My shoelace came off.”

Having a shoelace come off was certainly a big problem, but when I took a look, it turned out that her shoelace only came loose. Well, I didn’t need to correct her Japanese every single time.

While Maja was retying her shoelace, I glanced around. Right in front of me was a souvenir shop, which had some tasteful items. I wouldn’t pay much attention to the usual pennants, paper lanterns or key holders, but this seemed to be a woodwork shop. There was a signboard saying, “Number One”, making me wonder what it was number one in, but after some consideration I realized it probably meant “Number One in woodwork”. In a corner of the shop was a shallow wooden box, with a sign under it that read, “Damaged Goods – 60% Off”. Intrigued, I entered the shop, and was greeted by the aroma of wood and varnish.

In the wooden box were various things, like a wood carving of a bird, a wickerwork basket, a toothpick holder and a back scratcher. Many of the objects had noticeable scars and damaged bits. Out of those, there was one which I couldn’t immediately tell where it was damaged. It was a yellowish-brown barrette with a relief of hydrangeas carved into it. I didn’t think the design was great, but the muted tones it used and the feeling of seasonality it gave off weren’t bad. I picked it up to look at its back, but it also wasn’t damaged. Was it a hidden defect?

A middle-aged woman was at the back minding the store while looking at a television. I called out to her.

“Excuse me!”

“Yes, welcome.”

She spoke in quite a surly voice, but I didn’t worry about that, and brought the barrette to her.

“This was in the damaged goods section, but it doesn’t look damaged.”

The woman put on a pair of spectacles that was hanging on top of the register, took the barrette from me and observed it in detail.

“…It’s not damaged, but there’s a knot.”

Indeed, the wood grain swirled at a part with a hydrangea leaf. But could that be considered a feature of its design? Perhaps my face gave away what I was thinking, for the woman added a comment.

“Most people like their things to be perfect.”

It was a trivial matter. I took out my wallet.

“How much is it?”

“1,500 yen at a 60% discount, so 600 yen. 618 yen with tax.”

So I bought the hydrangea barrette at a price that made me feel apologetic towards its creator. Instead of having it wrapped up, I held it tightly and left the shop. Outside, I found Maja who’d finished tying her shoelace and had been waiting for me, a questioning look on her face.

“Hey, sorry to make you wait.”

“What were you doing?”

I held out the barrette. Like with the bow, bridge and red-white daifuku before, Maja stared intensely at it.

“…This is?”

“Can’t you tell by looking? It’s for holding hair in place.”

“That was what I thought. So… Is there a philosophical meaning behind this?”

Could a hair ornament possibly contain philosophical or theological meaning? Maja’s head was just screwed on in that direction today. Wearing a wry smile, I pushed the barrette a little further towards her, and she accepted it as though it was forced onto her.

“It’s a present. Please take it as a memento.”

I said, but she still continued studying the barrette in her hand. Then, she suddenly broke into a smile, the word “present” having been finally translated in her brain.

“I see! This is really beautiful! What are these flowers…?”

“They’re called hydrangeas, and they bloom beautifully in this season. The flowers are blue if the soil is acidic, and red if the soil is alkaline.”

Additionally, if my botanical knowledge was correct, hydrangeas originate from West Asia. They should have entered Europe via China. It was a perfect Asian souvenir for a European.

“Hmm, this is really interesting.”

It would have been quicker if I could show her some actually in bloom, but unfortunately the surrounding area had been cleanly leveled, and there were no roadside trees. There might be some if we went into the shrine grounds, though.

Maja held the barrette tightly at her chest.

“Thank you, Moriya-san. I like it.”

“You’re welcome. It was cheap, anyway.”

Wasting no time, Maja put her hands behind her back and used the barrette to hold up her hair in a somewhat offhand manner. Since her hair was wavy and quite short, it didn’t have much effect, but her actions showed that she liked it, making me feel happy. The barrette, which was colored yellow-brown for the purpose of decorating a Japanese person’s black hair, was also well-matched with a Yugoslavian’s black hair. As for whether it suited Maja herself, it looked a little too plain on her, but that was fine.

Together, we passed through the torii. In front of us was Tsukasa Shrine.

Unexpectedly, Maja did not show any interest to the torii. Well, since it’s important enough to be a map symbol, it was possible that she already knew enough about it. Or perhaps she was only looking straight and missed the building above her.

We walked up the stairs. The cobblestones laid there were covered in moss. Just as Maja had called it the biggest religious facility in Fujishiba City, the premises of Tsukasa Shrine was expansive. The shrine grounds contained a number of pine trees, each surrounded by a sacred rope. Camellias in planters also stood out, giving the area a verdant atmosphere. Unfortunately, it seemed that hydrangeas were not being grown here. Speaking of things that stood out, a giant gingko tree was standing in a corner, as if it had been driven away by the pine trees. If Maja stayed until autumn, I would be able to show her some beautiful yellow leaves.

There were almost no worshipers here amongst the crowd. That was probably how it was like when there wasn’t a festival going on.

Spotting the purification fountain, Maja ran towards it. She picked up a ladle and drank some water, as I expected her to, then smiled.

“The water is cold.”

Thinking that she must have found it interesting, I explained that it wasn’t water meant for drinking, and told her that she was meant to rinse her mouth and wash her hands with it. Maja reacted exactly as I thought she would. That is to say, she was surprised, then moved, then whipped out her notebook and made a note. After that, she did the purification ritual, being more meticulous than necessary. While I watched her with a grin, I was worried about doing the ritual awkwardly when I’d taught her about it. Was I supposed to wash my hands first, or was I supposed to rinse my mouth first? I couldn’t remember the details, but it didn’t really matter. Maja laughed as she watched me perform the ritual more clumsily than she had.

We advanced inwards. Maja was restless, continually moving her gaze here and there. I paid special care so that she wouldn’t get separated from me again.

Anyway, our freshly cooked hotdogs would go cold soon, so I searched for a suitable spot to sit down. Thankfully, a wooden bench sat near the gingko tree. I placed my hand on its surface to check if it was wet, and it was fine, so I sat down. The suns rays were blocked by the gingko leaves, and while the humidity was unaffected, it was a lot cooler than I thought. Since it’d rained until yesterday, the ground was probably still cold.

I brought the two cheese hotdogs and ginger ales out from the paper bag. However, Maja was staring blankly at the shrine grounds, and did not take her lunch. Thinking that she would eventually return to reality, I decided to start eating without her. As expected of the specialty for a shop that only sold hotdogs, the bread was fragrant.

Finally, Maja muttered.

“Ovo je zaista lep… I veoma intersantan.”

Naturally, I couldn’t understand a word. I didn’t mean to pry into her musings, but with a start, Maja turned towards me and repeated herself in Japanese.

“This feels very authentic.”

I kept quiet and munched on my cheese dog. The sausage made a crisp sound.

It seemed that Maja was comparing this with the holy ground of Yugoslavia, specifically the area surrounding Christian churches, and felt profoundly touched as a result. She’d probably also superimposed the Yugoslavian holy grounds with those from other countries. I suddenly wished to try that as well, but it was beyond my imagination. No, the problem wasn’t with my imagination, but with my lack of experience. I hadn’t got to see anything else.

Thus I was made painfully aware that I couldn’t share the thoughts and emotions she was feeling at this moment. That is an immutable law that can be applied to anyone else, but Maja and I stood too far away from one another in life.

Maja had always been asking me questions for the entire day. It should be fine for me to throw her the occasional question.

“Maja.”

“Da?”

“You’ve gone around to different countries looking for philosophical meaning, right?”

With a hint of pride, she nodded.

“Yes.”

I took a swig of my ginger ale.

“Why do you do that?”

I knew that there is such a thing in this world as seeking knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Curiosity and the love for learning are virtuous mentalities that can greatly differ from egoism depending on how you look at it. However, while I didn’t consider myself that much of a realist, this attitude felt too indulgent for my liking.

Then again, Maja didn’t give off such an impression. Of course, she was probably curious about “interesting things”, but was that all?

The answer came quickly.

“That is my job.”

“…Do you get money from it?”

“No? Um, what is the appropriate Japanese word for it? Role? Responsibility? Do you understand?”

I knew what she was trying to say. The closest word for it would be “calling”. Still, that didn’t explain anything.

Maja changed her posture, turning her body towards me and looking me straight in the eye. She tightened her lips and narrowed her eyes. I could tell that she had every intention of answering my question without glossing over a single thing. Not a breeze of wind approached, not a person could be seen, and it was still early in the season for cicadas. The shrine grounds was quiet.

Maja spoke very slowly, probably to make sure that she didn’t use the wrong words.

“Moriya-san. I told you that I am a Yugoslavian, but actually, it is widely thought that Yugoslavians do not exist. There is Srbin and Hrvat… we are thought of ethnic groups like Serbians and Croatians.

“Yugoslavia is made up of six Republika… or countries. The six ethnic groups gave up trying to separately establish their own state, and instead came together to form Socijalistika Federativna Republika Jugoslavia. That is because the six ethnic groups thought that they were close like family. Um, that was in the year 1918. After that, Yugoslavia became one country with six different cultures.

“But, how long is it from 1918 to now?”

“…Seventy… Seventy-three years.”

“Da. Seventy-three years is a long time. My father is a Serbian. My mother is a Slovenian. My mother’s father is a Macedonian. Me? I am a Yugoslavian.

“Yugoslavia has six cultures. But I, or rather, we are creating a seventh. That will happen even if we do not want it to. And we do want to create a culture. If so, we have to build a monument at some point in time. I do not think that is far in the future… um, am I explaining it well?”

“I understand.”

My words were surprisingly light.

“Our traditions were manufactured. Our sense of unity was imaginary. Even so, it came to be that we lived not in one of the six cultures, but in our culture. To repeat myself, that will happen even if we do not want it to. Do you understand?”

“……”

“But Yugoslavia is not a rich country. It is extremely unfortunate, but the non-wealthy Yugoslavians cannot view the seventh culture in and of itself. That is because they do not have the means to compare it with other cultures.

“And I am a wealthy Yugoslavian. My father has a high ranking position in the party. I can freely look at all sorts of countries. I am the exception to us Yugoslavians. That is why I think that it is my job to look at all sorts of countries, um, or rather, their cultures.

“Some day, our six cultures will come to an end. Some day, Yugoslavia will cease to be a federation. That is why I am looking around at other countries… Do you understand?”

Now I couldn’t say that I did. It would be more truthful to say that I didn’t understand.

All I got from her explanation was that there were people trying to construct a new world far away in Yugoslavia. And that Maja was trying to do what was only possible with her circumstances. But what was that, exactly? I replied.

“Are you trying to become an artist?”

Maja laughed.

“As I thought, my Japanese still has a long way to go.”

She then chewed over her words, as if she was making a promise to me.

“…I will become a politician.”

Maja grabbed her cheese dog that had already gone cold and heartily bit into it. The Yugoslavian girl’s eyes widened as she stared at the cheese dog in her hands.

“Mm, this is wonderful and delicious!”

I also ate. Indeed, it was amazingly tasty.

That was a feeling I could share with her.

Though Maja came from so far away, she sometimes felt really close. But even if it felt that way, she was still someone who came from a land far, far away. It was obvious to me that she and I were worlds apart in many aspects. I might have asked something I didn’t need to know.

I gulped down some ginger ale.

…Or, was it possible for me to reach Maja?

Thankfully, there was a waste basket nearby, so we dumped our trash there. We graciously washed our hands at the purification fountain, but still did not see Tachiarai and the others, so we headed towards the main hall. Maja asked about how to properly pay her respects, so I forcibly unearthed my memory and taught Maja the method of two bows, two claps, and one bow. She followed my instructions, but could only imitate a prayer, and was unable to display the gravitas required. Was it because she practiced Christianity?

No, come to think of it, Maja never even mentioned that she was a Christian. When we first met, I assumed that she would be able to speak English because she was white, and I might have fallen into that rut. When I asked, she replied calmly.

“I do not have a religion.”

That was unexpected. I was so certain that it was impossible for a European to have no religion.

“Is there a ‘philosophical meaning’ behind that?”

“Yes. Yugoslavia’s president Tito suppressed religion. He thought that it would be dangerous for the federation if each of the six countries strongly believed in their own religions. That is why I do not believe in any religion. Though I should know the Catholic customs.”

So she was supposedly a Roman Catholic Christian? That wasn’t that much different from me being a Soto Zen Buddhist³⁸ in name only. As I held that thought, Maja added with a grin.

“Just like the Japanese, right?”

Lies are commonplace, after all.

“I heard an interesting phrase from Izuru. It was, um, ‘relying on the spirits in times of trouble’.”

She giggled.

“I am also like that sometimes. During troubling times, I look to God. And also during tough times. That person just now was also relying on the spirits.”

“The person bringing mochi to the shrine?”

“Da.”

As we were having such a conversation, a voice that sounded fairly close by called out to us from behind.

“There you are, Moriya.”

I turned around to see Fumihara. Further behind him were Tachiarai and Shirakawa.

“Told you we didn’t need to worry about them.”

Shirakawa nodded to Fumihara, then gave us a light smile.

“It’s good that we found you.”

“Yes, Izuru.”

On the other hand, I apologized to Tachiarai.

“Sorry.”

Tachiarai’s countenance did not change.

“What for?”

“You told us to be careful, but we still got separated.”

“Ah.”

I could see an almost non-existent grin materialize on her face.

“If so, we should apologize too.”

“…?”

“Since we split into groups of two and three, it’s difficult to say who got separated.”

That made sense.

“Maja-san, are you hungry?”

“I ate something called a cheese dog. Japanese cuisine sure is deep.”

“Maja-san, hotdogs are American.”

“I was joking, Fumihara-san.”

Fumihara’s face changed to a weird cross between a laugh and a disgruntled huff. I stifled a grin.

I was wondering who would be the first to notice Maja’s additional accessory, and it turned out to be Tachiarai.

“…Oh? Maja, what’s that hair ornament?”

Maja turned around joyfully and showed her the barrette.

“Hydrangeas, huh. Not bad. How did you get it?”

“Heheh, Moriya-san gave it to me as a memento.”

“Oho, Moriya, huh!”

Fumihara’s eyes widened in amazement, so I told him in a small voice that it was a damaged good that had sixty percent off its original price. Also in a small voice, he replied that it was what he thought. Just what kind of person did he see me as?

“It really suits you, Maja.”

Shirakawa praised, a wide smile on her face, but gripped my sleeve with her hand. She then pulled me away from the rest while I was still confused, and glared at me. While her eyes usually looked sleepy, they were intense when fully open.

“What is it?”

“Moriya-kun, you gave that to her?”

“Is that wrong?”

Shirakawa fell silent for a while before letting out a deep, deep sigh.

“Moriya-kun, I’m telling you this for your own good, but you should give something to Machi later.”

“…Why?”

“For the sake of balance!”

She said in a hushed tone. Was that really so? Well, buying another cheap thing like that wouldn’t be too much of a burden on me, but…

“Tachiarai doesn’t need a barrette. I haven’t seen her put anything on her hair.”

“That’s not the problem!”

“If balance is the problem, do you want one too?”

“…Why would I get something like tha… I mean, why would you give me something! You absolute blockhead!”

Shirakawa actually called me that. I’d never heard the phrase “absolute blockhead” before, but it must mean a dreadnought-class blockhead. Shirakawa was almost stamping the ground in frustration. I didn’t think I did anything particularly wrong, but…

In any case, we returned to find Fumihara and Maja talking in the tree’s shade.

“Well, I can’t say it’s impossible.”

“Hm, so it is rare?”

“…You might be right.”

Fumihara seemed to be at a loss, and hesitant with his words. I moved closer and poked him in the shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ah, you should listen to this too.”

But Maja waved her hand slightly.

“I have already told Moriya-san about the people relying on the spirits.”

“It’s about the people who were bringing mochi as an offering, right? What’s so rare about that?”

Fumihara replied while putting emphasis on certain words and phrases, implying that I should think about it carefully.

“Is going out of your way to offer mochi normal? It’s not New Year’s Day.”

Hmm… come to think of it, he was right.

“It could have been for a festival, couldn’t it?”

“Tsukasa Shrine already had a festival in April. The next one’s in October.”

“Well, I suppose.”

I didn’t entirely agree, but wanted to leave it at that. Tachiarai cut into the conversation, though I didn’t know if she had been listening up to this point.

“Maja, do you remember what kind of person it was?”

Maja tilted her head.

“Hmm, two of them were walking together, and they were young. One of them said that they were about to die, and suggested going to the shrine. But they both looked healthy, so I found that to be strange.”

A pair of young people?

Fumihara and I looked at each other.

“You think such people exist?”

“They could be fired up about praying to pass an exam…”

“Didn’t they say they were going to the shrine because they were about to die?”

I naturally folded my arms, before giving a suggestion that I didn’t even believe in.

“Maybe they were fans of shrines and temples?”

As we talked, the feeling that something didn’t add up swelled even further. I didn’t think the situation of two youths offering mochi would seem so wrong. For some mysterious reason, I never paid attention to the standards of shrine prayers, yet hearing of an unusual practice made me feel that it didn’t make sense. Normally, I would end it by saying that they must have their own reasons, but I wouldn’t feel good if a misunderstanding got planted in Maja’s head while we were showing her around.

I glanced at Tachiarai. Though her face made it look like the conversation had gone in one ear and out the other, her arms were folded, like mine.

Shirakawa also joined in the conversation.

“Um, Maja, did you see the post box?”

“Yes. I thought the post sign had some philosophical meaning to it, so I looked at it while going round and round. Moriya-san taught me that it was just the first letter of the post service’s original name teishin. At that moment, two young people talked about the mochi while passing us.

“They seemed healthy? And their way of talking?”

“Da. They were laughing and talking at the same time… hmm, but that is odd. Was that not relying on the spirits in times of trouble?”

Even if you ask us…

Excluding Tachiarai, the four of them cocked their heads in confusion. Shirakawa asked again.

“But you didn’t listen to their entire conversation from start to finish, right? What did you hear?”

“Um…”

Maja flipped through the pages of her notebook. We waited, expecting her to find the notes she’d written, but she almost immediately shut her notebook with a thud.

“I did not write it down. Let me try to remember…”

She rubbed her temple with a fist.

“That’s an exceptionally Japanese gesture.”

I commented to Shirakawa who was beside me. She then turned away and looked down.

“Oh, she’s copying me. Probably.”

Wow.

Maja started uttering phrases intermittently, like a suspicious prophet.

“Um… it was something like this. This is troubling… It’ll be fine if we go to Tsukasa Shrine… I’ll make the mochi and bring it there… it can be made easily…”

She continued muttering in a small voice for a while, before eventually shaking her head slightly.

“I was not paying much attention to them. This is the best I can do.”

“But if that’s all we have…”

Fumihara expressed his resignation.

“Should we just think of them as just a weird pair, then?”

But we still hadn’t played our trump card. It was a trump card extremely unreliable not in ability, but in personality. Would that work?

I rolled my head to the side and looked at Tachiarai. Our gazes perfectly collided.

“What is it?”

“You know, don’t you?”

“I get the gist of what you’re thinking, Moriya-kun. Could you stop looking at me with those pleading eyes?”

Were my eyes really like that? Tachiarai must be in a bad mood, for her attitude was colder than usual. However, after taking a look at Maja, she let out a short sigh. Unraveling her folded arms, she walked two or three steps forward.

“Hey, Maja.”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to know what those two were trying to do?”

Maja instantly nodded.

“Yes! This walk is meant for learning about things like this.”

“Those people are probably an exception. There’s no practical advantage to be gained from learning about them.”

Because Tachiarai used some unfamiliar vocabulary, Maja thought for a brief moment before answering prudently.

“Hm… Basically, Machi-san, you were worried about me, right? Worried that I would assume that I have seen everyone after only seeing one person, like with the umbrella back then. But it is fine! I view that as a failure on my part, and I will not do that again.”

After hearing that declaration, a somewhat perturbed smile drifted onto Tachiarai’s face.

“I see.”

She then shot me a meaningful look.

“Then let me ask you this. Maja, you thought that those two people were ‘relying on the spirits in times of trouble’, and that they were bringing mochi to the shrine because they were about to die.

“Did they say that they themselves were about to die?”

Maja groaned, and rubbed her temple with a fist again. That looked painful. However, that massage didn’t seem to be effective in helping with recollection, for she eventually shook her head apologetically.

“…Sorry, I cannot remember. But I thought they were dying even though their father and mother are still around.”

For some reason, Tachiarai nodded in a satisfied manner.

“Yup.”

“What do you…”

I cut in, but Tachiarai ignored me and continued.

“Let me know if I’m wrong. Maja, you’re fairly good at Japanese, and Izuru taught you all sorts of words and phrases, right?”

“Da. She taught me a lot.”

“It’s possible that what those two people said was… ‘going on’.”

I didn’t need to hear Maja’s response to figure out her opinion, since her face immediately lit up.

“That was it! It was ‘going on’ from the phrase ‘Please forgive me for the unfilial act of going on before my parents’. Hm, how did I forget that?”

“That’s not something I’d know.”

With that, she seemed to be ending the discussion. It was Fumihara’s first encounter with Tachiarai, and Shirakawa was not the assertive type. The only person who could object and say, “Hey, don’t end it here,” was me.

Having no other option, I put that into action.

“Hey, don’t end it here.”

Tachiarai stared daggers at me… So she was indeed angry at me for getting lost. That was too late of a realization. She then spoke.

“It’s like sandai-banashi³⁹. ‘It’ll be fine if we go to Tsukasa Shrine’, ‘I’ll make the mochi and bring it there’, and ‘going on’. If you sprinkle on top some mishearings and misunderstandings, what would it be?”

Fumihara, Shirakawa and I blinked repeatedly.

What would it be?

“What? But…”

Fumihara muttered. I understood how he felt.

Tachiarai could have provided us a more convincing explanation than my hypothesis that those two youths were devout and were bringing mochi to the shrine for the sake of praying for good health, but she didn’t want to. Seriously, it was always like this with her. However, I didn’t feel like correcting a habit that had long been ingrained in her, so I reluctantly attempted her riddle.

It’ll be fine if we go to Tsukasa Shrine. Was it not possible at other shrines?

I’ll make the mochi and bring it there. Was it unnatural for them not to simply say, “I’ll bring the mochi there”?

Going on. Please forgive me for my disloyalty and lack of filial piety.

Ah, so that was it.

I subconsciously grinned. Being used to Tachiarai’s tricks, I had the advantage. Everyone else looked at me surprised, wondering why I’d suddenly smiled, except for Tachiarai.

“So, funny, isn’t it?”

If she found it funny, shouldn’t it have shown from the nuances in her words and actions? I’d been able to tell that she was in a bad mood, too. In any case, knowing that she also found it funny gave me confidence. I nodded.

“Yeah. It was indeed the result of mishearing and misunderstanding.”

Scratching his head, Fumihara spoke.

“Guess I’m not good at this kinda of thing.”

“I see. In my opinion…”

I was about to explain my theory, when I noticed Maja getting her notebook and pen ready. I’d already gotten used to it, but the seriousness in the way she did it made me let out a wry smile.

“I’m not sure if it’s worth noting down.

“Um, that is for…”

For you to decide, yes. Sorry about that.

Fumihara and Shirakawa seemed to be also listening, but I turned my body to face Maja.

“On second thoughts, it is weird for two youths to bring mochi to a shrine for the sake of praying to be of sound health. Even more so when they were laughing about it.”

Maja looked at me perplexedly.

“Of sound…?”

Whoops. Fumihara explained on my behalf.

“It’s a prayer for living healthily, without falling sick.”

She started writing a note right away, so I waited for her to finish before continuing.

“If the mochi isn’t being used as an offering, what would it be used for? …Take a look at that.”

We were facing the front of the shrine hall, under the shade of a sacred tree. I gestured towards the shrine building with the palm of my hand. While I wasn’t particularly pious, it felt wrong to point directly at sacred objects with a finger.

“That is a shrine.”

“No, not that. Well, it is a shrine, but look at that thing under the bell.”

“Um… You mean, that box?”

I nodded.

Fumihara released a soft groan. It seemed that he’d caught on.

“Have you learned about what that is?”

“No. What is it?”

“That is called an offering box. It is where you put in coins when you pray at a shrine. They used to be only found at shrines, but now they are also placed at temples to gather donations.”

Maja batted her eyes.

“Money? In that kind of box?”

“You think it’s not safe?”

She nodded.

“There will definitely be people who want to take that money away. No matter which country, no matter how sacred the money, there will always be these kind of people.”

“Is that so? I don’t know how it is in other countries, but here in Japan we call them ‘offerings thieves’.”

“Offerings, thieves?”

“Yes. The quickest way to take the money would be to flip the box, but it’s heavy, and sometimes they’re secured in place. So the traditional method is to put something sticky inside the box and hook the money out.”

I mimed holding a fishing rod.

But Maja was not convinced.

“So you are saying that those two people were doing that? They did not say anything about stealing money. Or is it like the saying goes, ‘When you see someone, assume they are a thief’?”

I instinctively looked at Shirakawa.

“Shirakawa, what kind of words did you teach her?”

I wasn’t reproaching her, but her voice took on a defensive tone.

“I mean, Maja remembers everything so quickly.”

That’s really something. It’s a talent students preparing for entrance exams like us would be envious of.

Anyway…

“That’s not it. Those two were talking about the tool needed for stealing from the offering box.”

“The tool? You mean, the mochi?”

“It’s mochi meant for sticking things on… Did those two mention that they were making torimochi⁴⁰?”

A startled expression appeared on Maja’s face.

“Um… that might be it. No, it was.”

Well, it actually takes quite a lot of time to gather the materials needed to make torimochi from scratch, so they were probably referring to something like a stick with a tip covered in tape.

“Tsukasa Shrine is the largest shrine in Fujishiba, so the offering boxes have a lot of money. On top of that, there are many plants here, so visibility is limited. If you think about it that way, it’s a good target.”

“But I still do not understand. What about ‘going on before my parents’?”

I smirked.

“There are many euphemisms for money matters. All you heard was ‘going on’, and not ‘going on before my parents’, right?”

“…?”

“The phrase ‘going on empty’ is a common expression to imply that one has no money.”

After a short moment where Maja kept silent, impressed by the revelation, the area around us suddenly became dark. The sun must have been covered by a cloud. I looked up to see that thick clouds had gathered in the sky without me realizing it. Imitating me, Shirakawa also looked up, then spoke.

“Ah, looks like it’s about to rain.”

Tachiarai nodded.

“According to the weather forecast, it’ll get worse later.”

“That’s great, isn’t it? We’ve gone to where we planned.”

I replied, but Shirakawa shook her head in response.

“There’s one more place we were supposed to go.”

“Really? No one told me.”

Maja must have been really looking forward to that other location, for she appealed to Shirakawa in an utterly pitiful voice.

“Izuru, are we not going? If it does not take too much time…”

Having trouble making a judgment, Shirakawa made eye contact with Tachiarai, who looked up at the sky again before shaking her head. Taking that as the decision, Shirakawa spoke in a soothing voice.

“Unfortunately, no. But we can stop by there on the way back from school. So we can go there any time.”

Maja reluctantly nodded.

“Hmm, there is no choice, right? All I can do is look forward to it.”

Fumihara, who was out of the loop like me, asked.

“Where were we supposed to go?”

“Ah, right. It’s the mountain at the back.”

The mountain at the back?

I decided to check.

“By the mountain at the back, you mean that, right?”

Shirakawa nodded.

The back of Tsukasa Shrine, or to be precise, the mountain diagonally behind was, in its entirety, a graveyard. The gravestones were arranged in a disorganized manner at the foot of the mountain, but became more ordered at the summit. I’d visited the graveyard many times already. The Moriya family grave was not on that mountain, but there were the graves of relatives.

Fumihara voiced my opinion on the matter.

“Why the graveyard?”

“Maja said she wanted to see it.”

Shirakawa’s words seemed to imply that she didn’t know why Maja would want to visit a graveyard either.

“But we were lucky.”

Tachiarai murmured.

“If we hadn’t talked about the mochi, we would’ve been caught in the rain up in the mountain.”

In the end, it was decided that we would take Maja there after school on the next clear day. It felt bad to disband so early on a Sunday, but it started raining the moment I reached home, just as Tachiarai had said it would. I checked the weather forecast, and found that the Japan Meteorological Agency said this rain would continue for two to three days.

It rained the next day. On the way home from school, I stopped by a bookstore to look for a book about Yugoslavia. But perhaps my way of searching was flawed, for I couldn’t find such a book. Come to think of it, aside from academic textbooks, this was the first time I searched for a book because I wanted to read about a particular topic.

4

June 5, 1991 (Heisei 3) – Tuesday

The weather forecast was right on the money, and the rain finally stopped in the afternoon of the third day. As I was preparing to leave after school, Shirakawa came over to talk to me.

“Maja says she’ll be coming over, and Machi will also be going. What about you, Moriya?”

I was under the impression that I would be accompanying them when they were going to the graveyard, so I was at a momentary loss for words when she asked that question. Since I did want to go I could have just said so, but some pointless pride got in the way and warped my response.

“I see. I suppose I’m free, so why not?”

Shirakawa did not notice anything strange about my choice of words.

“Really? Please wait for a short while, then.”

While waiting, I paid a visit to Fumihara’s class. Their homeroom period seemed to have dragged on, and many students were still in the classroom. I peeked in to see if he was there, and caught him just as he was about to leave.

“Maja will be coming over. You going?”

Fumihara’s eyebrows twitched, but he answered immediately, taking almost no time at all to consider.

“I’ll pass.”

“Got it.”

“Tell Maja I said hi.”

I’d only invited Fumihara the other time because it wasn’t a good look for a guy to be alone with three girls. He had no obligation to join us on a strange event like touring a graveyard after school. I also didn’t push him to join us.

I returned to my classroom to find Tachiarai leaning next to a window, looking outside over her shoulder. When I approached, she glanced at me in recognition, but didn’t open her mouth. I called out to her.

“Did you hear?”

“About Maja? Of course I did.”

“Did you need something?”

Tachiarai finally faced forward.

“Need? No, nothing. It’s just that I can’t see the school gate from my classroom. I only intruding here because I think it’s the best spot to wait for Maja.”

“I see.”

I also stood by the window, but instead of monitoring the school gate, I gazed at the streetscape. It was white and gray, a scenery I’d long grown tired of seeing.

It would be boring to just wait silently, so I asked a question for no reason.

“You’ll be going today, right?”

Tachiarai answered with a frown.

“Of course. That’s why we’re waiting, isn’t it?”

“That’s true, but…”

Tachiarai seemed to sense something from my inarticulate response.

“Is that bad?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that you’re being more sociable than I expected.”

Tachiarai’s aloofness was as certified as folded paper. It wasn’t unnatural for Shirakawa to offer to accompany Maja, but it was out of place for Tachiarai to do something as friendly as that. I thought she would have been more distant, so her presence on last Sunday also felt surprising.

Tachiarai put on a light grin.

“Oh? I also find it fun to hang out with friends, you know?”

“But you don’t normally do so.”

“That’s because I have few friends.”

Based on her tone and body language, I could tell that she was just fooling around.

I pulled away the window and slumped against a nearby table.

“Friends, huh. From a girl’s perspective, what’s good about Maja?”

It was a casual question, but it caused Tachiarai to snap her gaze back to the window, as if she were avoiding my eyes.

“What’s good about her? I’ve never become friends with someone thinking about their pros and cons.”

That made sense. I scratched the tip of my nose with my little finger.

We didn’t need to wait long for Maja. She must have left Kikui at the right time to reach our school just as lessons ended. Upon hearing Tachiarai say, “She’s here,” I stood up to see Maja walking with quick steps against the waves of students leaving school. The day we first met, she’d assessed Japan as warm, but was Yugoslavia really colder than Japan? Or was she simply sensitive to heat? She was currently wearing a shirt that anyone could tell was summer attire in a glance. Incidentally, the start of June marked a change in our uniforms, so we were both clad in formal shirts.

We grabbed our bags and headed downstairs. Shirakawa was already waiting outside.

Since it was a day after rain, the weather was humid enough to block our pores, just like on Sunday, but the cool wind made it quite a lot more pleasant today. However, probably because she’d rushed to get here, Maja’s forehead was glistening with sweat, which she used the handkerchief embroidered with dandelions to wipe off. Seeing the dandelions led me to think about hydrangeas, and I noticed that Maja was also wearing the barrette today. Come to think of it, I hadn’t given Tachiarai anything even though Shirakawa had told me to. But upon further consideration, she wouldn’t want a gift, anyway.

After looking at me, Tachiarai and Shirakawa, Maja tilted her head.

“What about Fumihara?”

“Ah, he’s not coming. He says hi, though.”

“Hmm, what a shame.”

This time, we followed the current of people leaving school, and headed for Tsukasa Shrine. We were about fifteen minutes away, and it would take less than five minutes to the mountain from there.

Since there were many people around, I refrained from taking up too much space on the pavement, and followed behind the other three, who were walking side by side. In almost no time at all, we reached a big road, and after waiting for the signal and crossing the road, the crowd of students became sparse. Our formation naturally became a horizontal line.

Maja was all smiles.

“I have been waiting such a long time for the weather to be clear. I heard that there is a lot of rain during this season in Japan, and it is true. It made me wonder when it would stop raining. I was brimming with anticipation.”

Shirakawa teased Maja while looking at her side profile.

“Maja kept asking me if the weather would be clear the next day, or the day after that. How would I know!”

“Mm, Izuru, sorry about that.”

But it didn’t make sense for her to be so excited. Tachiarai transformed my thought into a question.

“Hey Maja, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but what are you looking forward to so much?”

“Rain on my parade?”

“It means to spoil one’s excitement. Thinking about it normally, Nakano Town should be a lot more worth seeing than an ordinary graveyard.”

Maja suddenly sank into thought.

“Hmm…”

“That said, I don’t think all actions need to have a reason.”

Maja shook her head.

“There is a reason, but I cannot say it in Japanese. I can explain it with Srpskohrvatskom, but you will not be able to understand me.”

A grin formed on Tachiarai’s face.

“Srpsko…”

“Srpsko, hrvatskom.”

“By Srpskohrvatskom, you mean Yugoslavia’s language, right? Even if we start learning it now, you’ll be gone by the time it amounts to something.”

Right, we’d met Maja in the last third of April. She was supposed to stay for two months, so there wasn’t much time left. I was suddenly filled with the regret of throwing away something valuable.

On the other hand, Maja was still cheerful.

“Da… um, in that case, let me use an analogy to explain.

“Before coming to Japan, I was in China. My friends there took me to all sorts of places, and I saw many places like Nakano Town. I found that to be very interesting.

“But I did not always want to always see places like that. I kept thinking that I wanted to see the country’s usual appearance. Um, I wanted to see places that have not been prepared for others to see. Does that make sense?”

Each of us nodded, and after seeing that, Maja also nodded in relief.

“One day, I got lost, and accidentally entered some place that was not very orderly. I do think that no preparation was done for that place, but I do not like to intentionally visit dangerous areas. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

“But there, I ran into a bad person. Um, what do you call this in Japanese?”

Maja performed the action of trying to snatch Shirakawa’s bag. Shirakawa cocked her head and hazarded a guess.

“A purse-snatcher?”

Tachiarai also gave a suggestion.

“A swindler.”

“That can’t be, they’re completely different.”

“A robber, then.”

“Mm, that last one sounds good. So, that person demanded that I leave behind my money and belongings.”

That would make him a bandit, but I did not voice that thought.

For some reason, Maja giggled.

“After that, he showed me the weapon he was holding. It was this big.”

She clenched her fist and raised it to eye level.

“It was a rock.”

“A rock?”

Shirakawa spontaneously repeated, and Maja nodded in response.

“Yes, a rock. He said, ‘I’ll throw this rock at you if you don’t leave your things.’ Do you find that funny? But at that time, I was scared. I am also scared of guns, but being hit by a rock is painful.

“On that day, I witnessed a scene that was not prepared. I was in China for three months, but that was the moment I remember the most.

“Today, I feel that I will experience something like that. That is why I am brimming with excitement.”

I knew what she was getting at, but at the same time felt that I didn’t fully understand. Tachiarai seemingly shared this sentiment, rather than being convinced. All she did was reply, “Is that so.” Then again, such a response was very characteristic of her.

“Ah!”

Shirakawa abruptly let out an exclamation. We stopped altogether, wondering what was wrong, and Shirakawa pointed at an intersection we’d just passed.

“Sorry, I think we were supposed to take this road.”

Heeding her words, we doubled back a little. Shirakawa’s memory turned out to be correct, and that road instantly led to the mountainous area.

The path gradually became more narrow until the asphalt ended, and before we knew it, we were on a mountain where it was dark even in the day. The trees growing here were mainly cedars. Other than those old trees, the ground was crammed with gravestones. Compared to a graveyard in a forest clearing, the graves here were placed as if to fill the gaps between cedars, making this graveyard give off a more primeval vibe. A narrow path snaked up the gentle slope. It was big enough for one person to walk through at a time, and it would be difficult for people to pass each other. A multitude of graves lined both sides of this narrow path. The words carved on those gravestones had been eroded by the wind and rain, making them impossible to read unless you stopped to do so. In the long time that had passed, headstones without their foundation stones, perhaps of people with no living relatives, had been discarded, and lay piled up in a heap. Each of these gravestones was small, at a size that I could easily hold one under each arm. The weathered stones were either dark brown like stained tea or red like azuki beans, but none of them were free of white moss growing on their surface.

Many of them had no inscription, or had their inscription worn away, but a few of them still contained some text. Besides “XX Family Tomb”, there was “Ancestral Grave”, “Seek Refuge in Amida Buddha⁴¹”, “All Things Return to One”, “Lotus Sutra⁴²”, “Nirvana”, “Abode of Stillness”, among others. I didn’t know the story, but there was even one with the inscription “Vengeful Ghosts of the Ancestors”. The names of people who had left the world were carved on the sides. How many names were there on this mountain altogether?

Maja let out a deep sigh. When it ended, she shut her mouth tightly, as if bad things would rush in if she kept it open.

“Shall we climb it for a bit?”

Following Shirakawa’s suggestion, we climbed the mountain. Whenever there were spaces between the graves, they were mainly covered with piles of withered flowers. The flowers that people left behind when they came to pay respects to the deceased were not left to rot, but were consolidated in one place. Meaning that even this mountain, which had allowed its graves to run wild, had some people doing cleaning and maintenance. Come to think of it, there was a temple at the foot of the mountain.

I spotted a gravestone that had fallen on its side. It must have been a long time since someone went to pay respects to it. Or perhaps it had only toppled over today or the day before.

Tachiarai, who was walking right in front of me, suddenly stopped, softness exuding from her usually stern eyes for just one instant. I also stopped in my tracks, and she spoke to me.

“I can read the year of death… so the past really existed, huh.”

I looked at it to see the words “Bunka 1⁴³”. It would be a lot easier to understand if the Western date was written on the side, but the residents of Fujishiba at the time probably didn’t even know of the solar calendar.

Whenever I come to a place like this, I become unable to suppress this gnawing anxiety. I’m definitely not a person eager for fame, or at least that is what I think of myself. Even so, when I think of the thousands of people buried in the ground, I get the feeling that I don’t want to simply survive and die. Though it’s not at a very high level, I received more education than that person who died in Bunka 1. Moreover, the Heisei era is probably more complicated than the Bunka era was. Abraham died when he was “weary of living”⁴⁴, but even if someone from the Bunka era hated their life, they couldn’t have “grown weary” of it… Where did I read that line? The world of that Bunka era person was likely only three miles in radius, and they might have had a thorough understanding of that world. On the other hand, though I have many advanced tools in the palm of my hand, I have not grasped anything. With my surroundings being so complex, I don’t know what to reach for first. If so, I’d at least like a signpost. Or signposts.

At my feet was a jizo with its palms put together.

Shirakawa, who was at the front, turned around and spoke to no one in particular.

“I just realized it, but the graves on this mountain were built starting at the foot. So they get newer as we go up.”

Tachiarai replied.

“You’re right. There should still be some land at the peak.”

Some rays of light streamed through the gaps between cedar trees. I looked down the mountain to see Fujishiba City laid out below, split into its northern and southern halves by the Atotsu River. In a space that looked like it was filled with junk, the colors that stood out were white and gray. The places I could clearly make out were the parking lots of highway stores, and the sports fields of schools.

We climbed, and climbed.

Thanks to Tachiarai’s words, I’d started paying attention to the years of death, and when we were about halfway up, I realized that many of the graves around here were from the Meiji, Taisho or Showa eras. I also spotted ranks of the Imperial Japanese Army carved on gravestones here and there. The graves of lieutenants had stars engraved on them, and were especially magnificent. In comparison, the graves near the foot of the mountain didn’t have any titles.

“This is completely different from a Yugoslavian graveyard.”

Maja slowly muttered.

“Not one thing is exactly the same, but there are some similarities, like the smell of soil… in Japan, what is believed to happen to people after they die?”

Tachiarai answered, also in a small voice.

“That’s a difficult question.

“…Reincarnation is often mentioned. If you do good deeds, you get reborn as a human, or even as a deity. If you do bad deeds, you get reborn as an animal. And if you do even more atrocious things, you become a creature of hell. I’ve also heard about being reborn in the Pure Land, a paradise ten thousand billion worlds away, where people don’t die. Yet we keep trying to get into contact with the dead. Every year in summer, the ghosts of the dead return. These are called the ‘honored ancestors’, and it is thought that they watch over their living kin.

“This contradicts the reincarnation theory, and I’m not sure about the Pure Land either.”

“Hm, so the ghosts are everlasting?”

“Well…”

I helped Tachiarai fill in the gaps.

“Since there are many theories, there might not be any common sense to it.”

Maja did not reply. She’d claimed to have no religion, but her beliefs about the dead should still come from Christianity. Did she fall silent because she was digesting the differences between the two schools of thought?

…No, that wasn’t it. I was careless. It was probably…

“Moriya-san.”

“Yes?”

“What does ‘common sense’ mean?”

Probably just that she didn’t understand English phrases.

This mountain was more like a hill, so it wasn’t that challenging to climb, and we were already almost at the top. Many of the gravestones here were new, with many being of a modern design, or rather, with ornate patterns carved into them. At some point, there was no longer the sense that graves had been crammed together to fill the gaps between trees, and each grave had their territory properly designated. That said, we were still in a forest.

There was no difficulty in reading the words engraved on these new gravestones. For no reason at all, I read them while we ascended, and the phrase “Tachiarai Family Grave” entered my view.

“Sendou.”

I called out, causing her to turn around irritably and follow my gaze.

“Yeah. If I don’t get disowned by my family, this is where I’ll end up.”

She replied.

The path gradually widened, and became big enough to fit two people walking side by side.

In front, Maja and Shirakawa were talking about something else.

“This means that Japan has no vampires, right?”

“I guess so. I haven’t heard about vampires here.”

Shirakawa answered while tilting head, then turned around.

“Hey, Machi. Have you heard stories about vampires in Japan?”

Tachiarai looked up at the sky, as if searching her memories.

“…I don’t know. There are probably some stories, but not any major ones.”

“Hmm, what about corpses that get up and move?”

Seemingly having thought of an interesting point, Shirakawa responded eagerly.

“Right! The dead are cremated in Japan, so corpses don’t move or get reanimated!”

But Tachiarai instantly corrected her.

“That’s only for modern Japan. Corpses were abandoned out in the wild until the Kamakura period⁴⁵, or even the Muromachi period⁴⁶, and cremations were rarely performed until the Meiji era.”

“Oh, is that so.”

Shirakawa wilted. I wondered if this mountain was one of the places where people dumped corpses, and was chilled by that thought. Then again, I didn’t even believe in wondering ghosts, so there was no reason for me to be so unsettled.

At that moment, I realized that I did know a story of a reanimated corpse.

“How about a corpse that starts moving and attacks someone, then?”

“Huh? What are you on about, Moriya-kun?”

“Izanami⁴⁷. She was supposed to be dead, but her body came alive and attacked her husband. But her body was rotted and crumbling, so it’s not exactly like a vampire⁴⁸.”

Upon hearing that, Maja turned around and raised her index finger.

“Moriya-san, Yugoslavian vampires are also have rotting bodies.”

“Really?”

“Da. There is also a vampire that takes on the shape of a bloated sack.”

A vampire shaped like a bloated sack? I couldn’t imagine that at all, which was a good thing. Didn’t that just sound unreasonably scary?

Shirakawa groaned and tilted her head.

“Izanami’s somewhat different, I think.”

“In what way?”

Shirakawa groaned again, so Tachiarai answered on her behalf.

“Because it’s a motif introduced from the outside, isn’t it?”

“Izanami? What kind of story is it?”

“It’s a myth like Orpheus⁴⁹.”

As always, Tachiarai’s explanation was a few phrases short, but Maja nodded, visibly moved.

“A myth, huh…”

She muttered.

“What kind of myths are there in Yugoslavia?”

Tachiarai asked, causing Maja to face her with a troubled smile.

“Um…”

“Is it difficult to express it in Japanese?”

“Ni… there are just no myths in Yugoslavia.”

“No myths?”

Even Tachiarai had a dubious look on her face.

“Is there even a country like that?”

But I knew. I knew that such a country existed. I knew that the reason for the absence of myths lay in Maja’s Yugoslavia, in Yugoslavia’s seventh culture. It was similar to why a federation wouldn’t have myths. Maja’s Yugoslavia was still in the process of being created.

Would Maja and her people create even myths and legends?

We were about 80 percent up the mountain when the forest suddenly disappeared. The sunlight and early summer winds that had been blocked off now returned.

“We’re back in Heisei after our time in Bunka.”

Exactly as Tachiarai mused, we were indeed back in modernity at last. The forest in this area had been cleared, and the slope had been leveled, allowing for modern allotment and demarcation of space. Some of this space had already been sold, for I could see five or six brand-new graves, separated by white ropes. In contrast to the densely packed graves in the damp forest, the graves built at the peak of the mountain were brightly lit by the sun, and had enough room around them. This area was a lot more open compared to the area at the foot of the mountain, and one could have a comfortable life here after retirement.

“Hmm, so it became like this.”

Shirakawa commented as she scanned her surroundings.

“It’s beautifully constructed.”

With no tree cover, there was a better view from here, compared to below when we had to squint at the gaps between the leaves and branches. Moreover, the wind was cool, making us forget the annoyance of the earlier plum rain. Looking down at Fujishiba City, Tachiarai muttered.

“It looks amazing. This sure is a hole-in-the-wall.”

Well, this being a graveyard, there were certainly many holes dug in the ground.

Right behind me, Maja hummed, impressed by the sight.

“Mmm, this is certainly different from Yugoslavia… I only heard about it from others, but now I think I have seen Japan’s ancestral veneration. I never thought that being buried can be an auspicious thing!”

Ancestral veneration is…

Auspicious?

Hearing a mix of words that felt out of place, I turned around. Maja was intently observing a granite grave that looked like it was glowing. Looking at it, I understood why Maja would say those things.

There were red-tinged salvia flowers, and a pair of red-white manju⁵⁰.

“…Huh?”

I doubted my own eyes for a moment, but it was actually a red and white manju. It could be nothing but red-white manju. The vibrant red of the salvias also didn’t really belong in front of a tablet of the deceased.

“Red-white is auspicious, right… hm, this is really interesting.”

Maja was all smiles from making a new discovery.

Noticing this state of affairs, Tachiarai came over next to me and spoke in a slight whisper.

“Seems like there’s a bit of a misunderstanding.”

Exactly.

Shirakawa was also shocked at the sight of those unusual offerings.

“What? Red-white manju and salvias?”

She mumbled the obvious in a somewhat dumbfounded manner.

On the other hand, Maja happily retrieved her notebook.

“Is this flower also auspicious?”

“U-Um, Maja, I can’t say I know that much about Japan’s view on life and death, but death is definitely not auspicious.”

Shirakawa tried explaining, but Maja tilted her head in puzzlement.

“But is red-white not auspicious?”

“It is, but…”

“And is that not red-white?”

“It is red-white manju, but…”

“And is that not a grave?”

“It is a grave, but…”

“So graves are auspicious, right?”

Maja had a satisfied look on her face, as if to say, “Exactly as I thought!” In contrast, Shirakawa couldn’t say anything, but that was understandable. It was impossible to deny what was right in front of our eyes.

“Sendou…”

I called out to Tachiarai. This was clearly weird. Something was up, but I didn’t know what it was. But Tachiarai would know, right?

Either in response to my call or in spite of completely ignoring it, Tachiarai folded her arms in a laid-back manner and stood right in front of the grave in question, then murmured to herself, “Interesting.”

I followed her gaze and carefully studied the grave.

It was new. It should have been attacked a great deal more harshly by the rain and wind due to the forest that could have acted as a shield being cleared away, but the white granite surface still kept its gloss. There were no sotoba⁵¹.

At the front of the grave, a step down from the main gravestone, were two metal incense holders. Right in front of them sat the red-white manju, which was the appropriate position for offerings. Unlike the daifuku I’d received at the hot dog store on Sunday, these manju were well-shaped and were exactly the same size. Unfolding her arms, Tachiarai pinched the red manju. From what I could see, it was still quite springy.

Next to each of the incense holders was a metal can one size larger. Those were flower holders. Only the one on the right was filled with a bunch of salvia flowers, while the one on the left had nothing in it at all.

“…”

Tachiarai circled around the grave, and I followed. The year of death carved on the gravestone was some time during the Heisei era. A bunch of old flowers had been haphazardly tossed at the back. These were flowers one would normally leave at a grave, like chrysanthemums and globe amaranths.

I quietly peeked at Tachiarai… and was taken aback. Unlike her usual lack of facial expression, her eyebrows were tightly knitted, and she even seemed to be biting her lip.

“Sendou, is something wrong?”

“You could say so.”

“Hm? What is?”

“If only Fumihara was here.”

She muttered, ignoring my question, then addressed Maja.

“It’s a shame since we just got here, but we should go back down.”

“Eh? What’s the matter?”

“It won’t end well for us if we stay here, I think.”

Leaving those words, Tachiarai took the initiative and headed back to the forest. On the way, she turned around and beckoned us to come quickly. Shirakawa and I exchanged looks.

“…What do you think?”

“If only Sendou was willing to explain it to us.”

“Then again, I can’t imagine Machi being patient and thoughtful.”

Well, she was right.

I spoke to the bewildered Maja.

“There seems to be something bad going on. Shall we leave for now?”

I assumed she would be reluctant to leave right after arriving here, given that she’d been looking forward to it so much, but contrary to my expectations, Maja nodded readily.

“I understand.”

Without thinking, I replied.

“You sure?”

“Hmm, it has been interesting enough already… and also, I predict that her prediction will come true.”

Tachiarai’s prediction? What was it even about?

“Let’s go, then.”

On Shirakawa’s order, we hurried towards Tachiarai.

Tachiarai was waiting for us where the cedars and gravestones were densely packed. After jogging carefully down a slippery slope, I stood next to her.

We started to slowly descend the mountain.

“What’s…”

…Going on? I was about to ask, but stopped myself. I’d known her for two years already, so I should be able to tell if she was willing to give an answer.

Tachiarai seemed to be waiting for me to continue, but after confirming that I’d swallowed my words, she grinned.

“What is it?”

“No, nothing…”

She shook her head, causing her long hair to sway gently.

After that, she spoke in a somewhat satisfied manner.

“Moriya-kun, you want to ask, ‘What’s going on?’, don’t you?”

Doubting my ears, I instinctively looked at Tachiarai’s face. Our eyes met.

Her eyes were relaxed, and she had an amused expression on her face, which was a rare sight, or rather, something I hadn’t seen before. That was when the penny dropped, and I realized that I was being teased by her.

I averted my gaze from her face.

“No, it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“I haven’t thought anything yet.”

This time, she laughed in a suppressed voice. After a bout of laughing, she cleared her throat deliberately.

“Fine. But there’s not much time. We need to explain the situation to Maja before we get down the mountain.”

“What, you were planning to explain it from the start?”

“Of course. I’m not as cold as you take me to be, Moriya-kun.”

I felt a little miffed by her statement.

“It’s not about you being cold, it’s that you’ve never explained anything to me.”

Upon hearing that, Tachiarai’s laugh deepened, and she whispered.

“Oh? I thought you’d be pleased at getting special treatment.”

“…”

I didn’t say anything. What should I have responded with in this situation?

I could see the sky in the gaps between trees. A gust of wind blew past. In order to meet the time limit that Tachiarai had set, I focused my thoughts on the grave we’d just put behind us and those eccentric offerings.

The path narrowed as it descended, and eventually it got to the point where we had to walk in single file, just like we’d done while ascending the mountain. I was in the lead, and behind me was Tachiarai. Maja was supposed to follow after her, but she restlessly called out to Tachiarai.

“Machi-san, I would like you to tell me why we had to go back down the mountain.”

I didn’t turn around, so I didn’t know what countenance Tachiarai wore. However, she didn’t immediately answer and took some time before answering, so she apparently had to think about it.

“Right, but before that…”

“Yes?”

“I’m surprised you know that red-white manju are auspicious.”

“Yes!”

The liveliness of Maja’s voice made me imagine that she nodded with all her might.

“The other day, we got separated while you were showing me around the Historical Preservation District. During that time, Moriya-san taught me about it. When red and white are used together, it is called a special term, red-white. We also ate red-white daifuku.”

Shirakawa seemed to have already heard that story, so she added a comment.

“They got the daifuku from the hotdog store.”

“I see.”

“It was just really sweet.”

Was Tachiarai buying time for me? But that was unbelievable. Perhaps she was still teasing me.

The red-white manju was a set of red and white… Come to think of it, the offering was red-white manju, yet the flower offerings were only made up of red salvia flowers. Wasn’t that bad in terms of balance?

“So you had sweet daifuku. But not all of them are sweet.”

“Hm, I know. I cannot say that I understand the taste of something just by eating one of it.”

“Did Moriya-kun tell you why red-white is considered lucky?”

“No.”

“I see. The first…”

I could hear the sound of fabric rubbing against each other. For a moment I wondered what it was, but immediately realized that it was just Maja taking her pen and notebook out of a pocket.

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“The first time red-white was used was for mizuhiki. I heard that because red-white was used for mizuhiki, red-white came to be considered auspicious.”

“Mizuhiki…?”

Shirakawa explained it to her from the back.

“It’s the string for tying up gifts. I think I showed it to you before.”

“Hmm, please show it to me again later. So, why was mizuhiki red-white?”

Tachiarai spoke plainly.

“In the past, imported goods from China were tied with red and white string. It didn’t mean anything to China, but the Japanese who received those goods thought it to be meaningful, and assumed that gifts always came with red and white string. A long time after that, it changed to red-white representing auspiciousness.”

The first to respond was not Maja, but Shirakawa.

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that mizuhiki came before.”

I was curious about Maja, so I turned around to see that her mouth was wide open and the hand holding her pen was not moving. Finally, she spoke.

“So, it was a mistake? Red-white is actually not auspicious?”

“No, it’s not a mistake. This kind of thing happens often. Trump⁵², pumpkin⁵³, curry⁵⁴, kangaroo⁵⁵…”

“Hmm?”

“They started out as mistakes, but gradually became the truth.”

She then added another line.

“That said, I think origin stories are completely unbelievable in general.”

With that, Tachiarai clammed up.

As we were passing the grave from Bunka 1 that we’d noticed on the way up, Maja mumbled to herself.

“I see, so that tradition was unintentionally created.”

The temple at the foot of the mountain came into view.

At the same time, some people appeared. It was a group of three. The one in front was a man who looked to be past middle age, and he was holding a plastic bottle in his hand. It most likely contained water meant to be poured on a grave. Behind him was a woman that seemed to be his wife. She was holding flowers. I couldn’t tell what type of flowers they were from this distance, but they were not something outlandish like salvias. At the very back was a young man. He was either the same age as us, or slightly younger.

Where we were at, the path was especially narrow. It would be quite troublesome if we had to pass each other, but it should widen a little downhill, so I wasn’t exactly worried. While I was thinking about that, I heard Tachiarai mutter from behind me.

“As expected, they came.”

“As expected?”

Unsure if I heard her right, I turned around and asked. Tachiarai gave a small nod.

“I didn’t want to bump into them.”

So she knew that people would be coming to visit the grave, and thought that meeting them there wouldn’t end well for us.

The wet, slippery downward slope threatened my concentration, but I pondered over it anyway.

On the way, we passed the trio. They seemed like completely normal people, and I didn’t think there was anything special about them.

I was thirsty.

There was a vending machine at the foot of the mountain, so we decided to take a break there. After each gulping down a green tea and catching their breath, Maja and Shirakawa surrounded Tachiarai. Maja already had her notebook and pen out.

“Hey, Machi. Mind if we ask?”

“I did not manage to ask you just now, but please tell me if there was any philosophical reasoning behind that.”

Tachiarai’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, then gave an uncharacteristically half-hearted reply, “Yep.” She then glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.

I looked away. Frankly speaking, I’d already organized my thoughts and come up with a theory, but if possible I wanted Tachiarai to explain it herself, so I ended up putting on a mask of unease.

But my acting skills were not enough to fool Tachiarai.

“Moriya-kun seems to know.”

“Eh?”

“Moriya-san, do you know?”

The spotlight was now on me. I choked on my green tea and coughed a couple of times. Not minding that, Maja pressed on.

“Please tell me. Was that auspicious?”

After waiting for my throat to settle, I put on a brave face and replied.

“There are almost no auspicious acts that can be done in front of the dead. I can think of one exception, but that wasn’t it.”

“Exception? I didn’t know, is there really such a thing?”

“Yeah. It’s called ‘Consecration’, and it’s done on the 33^rd or 50^th death anniversary, but in any case after that period of time a deceased person stops being an individual, and starts being a nameless ‘ancestral spirit’. In some areas elaborate celebrations are done on those occasions. However, that grave was from the Heisei era. 33 years haven’t passed since that person passed away.”

I had such an experience with my great-grandfather some years ago, which was how I learned about it.

“So, it was not auspicious.”

“Not exactly.”

Two confused faces stared at me.

“So it was auspicious?”

I vaguely nodded. It would be embarrassing if I was confident about it but got it wrong.

“Probably. Red-white manju are for auspicious occasions, after all.”

“I can’t see where you’re going with this, Moriya-kun.”

I glanced at Tachiarai, but she was looking away, perhaps intentionally, so I couldn’t tell if she agreed or disagreed with what I said.

I took another mouthful of green tea.

“What if I said that it was auspicious to the people who gave those offerings?”

“Hm…?”

Maja tilted her head.

But Shirakawa seemed to understand. I could see that she was slightly shaken by the revelation. Somewhat relieved, I said it all at once.

“By offering red-white manju, those people were saying that ‘it was a good thing’ or ‘it was auspicious’ for the person to die. I have no idea what kind of person the deceased was, but anyway, it’s not a pleasant topic.

“But, that…”

“Could absolutely happen.”

Shirakawa was lost for words. A heavy silence fell. Even Maja’s mouth was tightly closed.

“B-But.”

After a moment, Shirakawa broke the silence.

“So why did we have to hurry down the mountain? If what you say is right, it’s certainly a disturbing story, but it’s not like we couldn’t have escaped, right? Or did you think that the deceased would become a ghost?”

This time, it was my turn to be speechless. Indeed, Tachiarai had said, “It won’t end well for us if we stay here.” But was that just because it was unpleasant?

“Ah, about that…”

I only now realized that Tachiarai was standing behind me.

“I’m not the type to be frightened by ghosts, so that’s not it. We wouldn’t have had to leave if it those offerings were simply to desecrate the dead.”

I whirled around. For just one instance, Tachiarai’s lips formed a smile. I took it to mean that there was nothing wrong with what I said.

Shirakawa started talking to Tachiarai instead of me.

“If not the dead, then what?”

Tachiarai’s answer was short.

“The bereaved family.”

“…Bereaved family?”

”With the manju and those flowers, the message would become, ‘It may be sad for you but I’m happy about it.’ However, if the salvias dry up and the manju rot, the auspiciousness conveyed would be cut, so the offerings have to be set up close to the bereaved family’s grave visit for the message to be effective. If possible, on the same day.

“That’s why I thought they would visit today. If we ran into them there, we would be accused of setting up those offerings, which would be a pain to deal with.

“Another reason for why we had to leave was that there were no white tulips.”

Upon hearing an unexpected term, Shirakawa dropped the disgust that had been exuding from her and instead stared intently at Tachiarai’s face.

“Tulips?”

“It doesn’t have to be tulips, but some kind of flamboyant white flowers would do. Right, Moriya-kun?”

White flowers?

Ah, right. It all finally fell into place.

“There were two flower holders, but only one of them was filled.”

“Right.”

“If they were going for effectiveness, they should have split the bunch of salvias in two.”

“Exactly.”

“They didn’t do that because they were also going for red-white with the flower offerings. Even if they weren’t, they had prepared flowers for the other flower holder. But they weren’t able to do that, because…”

Shirakawa finished my sentence.

“…Because we came.”

Tachiarai nodded coolly.

“Not someone we’d like to get close to, right?”

In the graveyard overlooking Fujishiba City, in the shadows of the scattered graves, there was probably someone holding their breath and gripping onto beautiful flowers so tightly that they could snap. They offered the red-white manju and salvias, and were excited to witness the bereaved family seeing those offerings. They were likely cursing us for gatecrashing, and staring at us spitefully.

It was indeed an unappealing situation for us to be in.

“……”

Maja was holding her notebook, but her eyes were on the ground, and she wasn’t moving. As she was interested in many different aspects of Japanese culture, seeing firsthand such vicious harassment related to that culture must have come off as a shock to her.

Shirakawa muttered in a voice that was on the verge of tears.

“I… Maja, you said you were looking forward to it, and I thought it’d be a fun experience for you, but…”

Maja raised her head and shook it.

“No.

“Sorry, Maja. I’m really sorry.”

Maja spoke slowly as if to console Shirakawa.

“No, Izuru, I did have fun. This kind of thing should happen anywhere, but I am a person from Yugoslavia… a visitor. No country would want to show this to me. But today, I was finally able to experience a moment without masks. I am impressed. This is why I am grateful to you, Izuru.”

“Maja! I hope you don’t think that we’re all like that!”

Maja smiled and nodded to the downcast Shirakawa.

“Do not worry. As I said before, I will not make the same mistake twice!”

Right, Maja had plenty of experience under her belt. That was not for us to worry about. Even as someone living in Japan, today’s incident was an unpleasant but rare occurrence. Maja had become the way she was now by accumulating such experiences. After today’s experience, she would become a different Maja.

It was now about evening. Thinking that the group of three would have reached the grave by now, I looked up at the peak, to see that the sky beyond had become a picturesque red.

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Prologue | Contents | A Break, and a Short Conversation

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Editors (Tier 2): Dedavond, Pearl H Nettle, David Liu

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1. This might refer to Don’t Bite the Sun by Tanith Lee.
2. A city of at least 100,000 not in Sapporo, Sendai, Tokyo, Nagoya, Kansai, Hiroshima, or Fukuoka regions.
3. Refers to the time between the Azuchi-Momoyama period (1568) and end of the Edo period (1856).
4. Fudou means immovable.
5. Meaning “Who are you?”
6. Meaning to make a great fuss over searching.
7. Places where daimyō and other representatives of the shogunate were allowed to stay during their travels.
8. Similar in structure and operation to, but generally smaller than, honjin. When two official traveling parties are staying in the same post station, the more powerful of the two stayed in the main honjin. The major difference, though, is that general travelers were able to stay at the waki-honjin, if they had enough status or money.
9. Meaning to sleep so soundly that you don’t know what is going on around you.
10. A student preparing for college entrance exams. There isn’t really an English equivalent phrase so I had to make up something that sounds complicated.
11. Czechoslovakia, which was a country in Central Europe that declared its independence from Austria-Hungary in 1918 and existed until December 1992, when it split peacefully into the two sovereign states of the Czech Republic and Slovakia.
12. A language family is a group of languages related through descent from a common ancestor, called the proto-language of that family.
13. Sir Henry Creswicke Rawlinson was a British East India Company army officer who was the first Westerner to transcribe the Old Persian portion of the great cuneiform inscription at Behistun.
14. Jean-François Champollion, also known as Champollion le jeune, was a French philologist and orientalist, known primarily as the decipherer of Egyptian hieroglyphs and a founding figure in the field of Egyptology.
15. Also known as Montenegro.
16. Where two expressions switch their typical or expected order of appearance.
17. Traditional Japanese trousers.
18. An aluminium-copper alloy.
19. Meaning “refined practitioner”.
20. Martial arts ranking for those who have surpassed the basic ranks (kyu), with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest.
21. Meaning “teaching practitioner”, one step lower than “refined practitioner”. Following that is “model practitioner” which is also the lowest title.
22. Most likely referring to King Peter I of Serbia, who personally led the army to fight against the Central Powers in World War I at the age of 71. They had to retreat through the hostile Albanian highlands during a harsh winter, but King Peter survived the march and was proclaimed King of the Serbs, Croats and Slovenes in 1918.
23. The body of water between the Japanese main islands of Honshu, Shikoku, and Kyushu.
24. Homesick is an English loan word.
25. People in Yugoslavia traditionally drink Turkish coffee, which uses very finely ground coffee beans without filtering or settling to remove the grounds, and is prepared in a special pot called a cezve.
26. Not sure which conflict this is referring to, please write a comment if you know something about this!
27. Soviet Union.
28. A monk called Ikkyu wants to cross a bridge, but there is a sign that says, “Do not cross this bridge”. He crosses the bridge anyway by going through its center, and when asked about it, he explains that the sign can be read, “Do not cross by the sides”. The trick is that “bridge” and “side” are read the same way.
29. These spirits, or kami, are venerated in the traditional Shinto religion of Japan, and can be elements of the landscape, forces of nature, beings and the qualities that these beings express, and/or the spirits of venerated dead people.
30. A type of decorative ornament used on Japanese railings that is typically shaped like an onion.
31. The act of visiting certain shrines and temples one hundred times.
32. Wooden votive tablets that people write their wishes for the future on before hanging them at a shrine.
33. Shinto shrines which enshrine Sugawara no Michizane (a scholar, poet and politician in the Heian era) as a patron deity. Not sure about how it was back in 1991, but I’m pretty sure you can hang ema at any kind of shrine or temple, not just Tenmangu.
34. Statues made in the image of Jizo Bosatsu, guardian deity of children and travelers, that you can find throughout Japan in temples, cemeteries, and along roadsides.
35. There is a Chinese idiom 临时抱佛脚 (Lin shi bao fo jiao) which literally means “to embrace the Buddha’s feet at the last minute”, so it does apply to Buddhism as well.
36. A type of Japanese confection, consisting of a small round mochi stuffed with a sweet filling, most commonly sweetened red bean paste.
37. Traditional Japanese gate, typically red, most commonly found at the entrance of or within a Shinto shrine. The structure usually consists of two vertical posts topped by two horizontal beams.
38. The largest of the three traditional sects of Zen in Japanese Buddhism. It emphasizes meditation with no objects, anchors, or content.
39. Impromptu rakugo (the traditional art form of comic storytelling) based on three themes given by the audience.
40. Birdlime, which is a sticky, natural adhesive made from plant materials (like holly or mistletoe) to trap birds.
41. Also known as Amitābha, he is one of the main Buddhas of Mahayana Buddhism (the largest branch of Buddhism) and the most widely venerated Buddhist figure in East Asian Buddhism. He is said to have established a pure land of perfect peace and happiness, called Sukhāvatī, where beings who mindfully remember him with faith may be reborn and then quickly attain enlightenment.
42. One of the most influential and venerated Buddhist sutras. It is said to contain all the teachings of Buddhism and offer a key to understanding the rest of the sutras because it integrates their teachings.
43. Bunka is a Japanese era that spanned the years from January 1804 to April 1818, so Bunka 1 refers to 1804.
44. According to the Bible, Abraham lived to be 175 years old.
45. 1185 to 1333.
46. 1336 to 1573.
47. A primordial goddess who is the creator of both creation and death in Japanese mythology.
48. For those interested in the story, Izanami’s husband Izanagi(also a primordial god and her brother) goes to the land of the dead to find her, but is terrified of her rotting appearance and runs away. After escaping, Izanagi performs a ritualistic cleansing, which is the traditional explanation of purification rituals done at the entrance of Shinto shrines.
49. Orpheus was a bard, legendary musician and prophet, who according to legend descended into the underworld to recover his lost wife, Eurydice.
50. A traditional Japanese confection, usually a small, dense bun with a sweet filling.
51. Traditional Japanese wooden grave markers, tall, narrow planks inscribed with Buddhist prayers, posthumous names, and dates, placed near tombstones to honor the deceased and aid their soul’s journey
52. “Trump” is the term used in Japan for the standard 52-card deck of playing cards, primarily due to the prevalence of trump cards (Playing cards which are elevated above its usual rank) in card games when they were introduced in the late 19^th century.
53. The Japanese word for pumpkin is “kabocha”, which comes from the Portuguese word “Camboja”, which actually means Cambodia.
54. The origin of the word “curry” is a little murky, but it is possibly Tamil “kaṟi” (A spiced mixture with fish, meat or vegetable, eaten with boiled rice), or Hindi “Turcarri” (Something fragrant and delicious), and is not derived from the name of the curry tree.
55. The word “kangaroo” comes from “gangurru”, which is the name given to eastern gray kangaroos by the Guuga Yimithirr people of Queensland’s tropical north.