Chapter 87

1. The God with a Child

The sky seen from the government office window was a blurry color, like white with a drop each of blue and black mixed in.

Katagishi was glaring at the fogged-up glass, smoking a cigarette with a gloomy expression. His gloom was because Rokuhara was beside him. I stood between them, feeling the stagnant air.

Rokuhara spoke.

"The alterations to the legends about the Slumbering God are mostly done."

"Thank you. I hope this helps things move in a better direction..."

Katagishi cut in.

"The direction I'm heading ain't looking so good."

Rokuhara raised one eyebrow. Apparently, instead of asking his brother-in-law for help, Katagishi had agreed to accompany him on his mission.

Katagishi stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Miyaki, so that's why I'm stepping out for a while. I'm counting on you to look after Akitsu. She's got this sharpness and this unbelievable airheadedness coexisting in her."

"Leave it to me."

"Someone from upper management is supposed to accompany you in my place. They're one of the better ones, so don't worry."

Katagishi trailed off and gave Rokuhara a firm pat on the back.

"Let's get going. It'll be sunset by the time we reach the village."

"I'm on morning leave today, though."

"Don't think labor laws apply to us. This place is outside jurisdiction."

"Worse than a remote island."

I gave a wry smile and saw them off. Just as their footsteps faded, Akitsu appeared as if to take their place. She gave a slight bow and pulled out a cigarette.

"You smoke too, Akitsu?"

"Yeah. Sometimes important work conversations happen in the smoking area. The solidarity among smokers is no joke."

"A working adult's secret weapon, huh?"

I gave a small shrug. Akitsu was probably my age or a bit older. She must have worked hard to acquire the tools to survive in this organization as a junior member.

Just as I thought that, a haze like the thin clouds in the sky fogged up my mind. Who had I been with in my previous department, and what had I been doing?

A sudden tension ran through me, like the ground beneath my feet had turned to thin ice. I couldn't remember anything from before I joined the special investigation division.

Akitsu looked at me as if she saw right through me.

"Miyaki, you're experiencing memory loss, aren't you?"

I was caught off guard and fell silent.

"I get it. People who go to Mount Fudaraku sometimes end up like that."

"...Is it the influence of the Unseen God?"

Akitsu exhaled a long stream of smoke and lowered her gaze. In her inorganic profile, I could faintly see a trace of sorrow.

"I was happy to work with you, Miyaki. I thought I'd finally be able to cooperate with someone who shared the same situation. But if you've forgotten, maybe that's for the best."

"No, it's not."

Katagishi seemed to have found closure after going to Mount Fudaraku, but I was the opposite. I've been lost ever since that day.

"Akitsu, if you know something, could you tell me?"

"It might drag Katagishi into it too, you know."

I bit my lip. Akitsu tapped the cigarette's tip against the edge of the ashtray.

"Even if you try to learn the truth, there's no end to it. You have to find a place to settle. Sometimes ignorance is the price of happiness."

"But isn't someone suffering because I don't know? I can't shake that feeling."

"You're kind."

She tossed the cigarette into the water used to extinguish them. It made a sound like a sparkler going out.

On our way to the village under orders, Akitsu and I had a meandering conversation. I wasn't mentally prepared to step into this.

The sky flowing past the slow train's window was cloudy and flat, like a prison wall.

When we got off at the unmanned station, a familiar face greeted us.

"Umemura."

"Good work."

He gave a light wave. Like Kirima, he'd been here since the founding and was one of the most senior members. Supposedly in his forties with a wife and kids, but he looked so youthful you wouldn't guess it.

When Akitsu respectfully bowed in return, Umemura gave a sheepish smile.

"No need to be so formal. Though I guess it's hard when you're suddenly paired with your boss."

I hastily waved my hand.

"Not at all, it's reassuring. Was this Kirima's decision?"

"Even higher up than Kirima. I couldn't refuse. But honestly, there's no one else better suited than me."

Umemura started walking along the empty platform. We followed behind him.

"Better suited for what?"

"For this Territorial Divine Offenses case."

Akitsu answered.

"The God with a Child. It's said it can only be perceived by children under fifteen or their parents."

"You've studied well. That's right. Most of us are single, right? Kirima too, and Esato is divorced with no kids."

"Really?"

"Ah, I probably shouldn't be saying this."

Umemura laughed easily. His approachable demeanor didn't reflect his high position. I thought we were lucky to have him as our companion.

As we passed through the ticket gate, I felt a strange suffocating air.

In front of the station was only a small private shop with a tin roof, and the narrow road was lonely, overgrown with weeds tangled in rusty fences.

A typical countryside scene, but the sky felt narrow. Surrounded on all sides by towering mountains, it felt like we were looking up from the bottom of a deep hole.

The wind blowing through felt bitterly cold, like midwinter. The wind rushing down the mountains hit the scattered houses and echoed like a wolf's howl.

Umemura exhaled a white breath.

"Ah, so this is the legendary howl."

"It really does sound like a wolf howling."

"Wasn't it that lost children witness the god? Some of the legends might just be hallucinations. When you get hypothermia, brain activity drops and causes confusion. It's common right before slipping into a coma when your body temperature drops below twenty-eight degrees."

"You know a lot."

"I was in med school. Not that it's helped much in this job."

Akitsu walked up to the shaking-his-head Umemura.

"Could a child with severe hypothermia really descend the mountain alone?"

"People near death can do unthinkable things. Like paradoxical undressing, where their nerves go haywire and they strip naked in the snow."

"Even if part of the legend is fake, we should still be cautious."

"Don't worry, I get it. Gods are beyond human understanding and science. I've learned that the hard way."

Umemura briefly erased his smile. He'd worked by Kirima's side in the special investigation division for twenty years. He must have faced horrors I couldn't imagine.

As we walked, we passed an old statue by the roadside. It was a statue of a girl in tattered clothes, kneeling on the pedestal.

"The statue of Oyuki..."

I read the inscription carved into the pedestal. The features had faded with age, and her expression was blurred.

It looked neither happy nor sad—just like Umemura had said earlier, a face waiting for death in a haze of confusion.

"I wonder what this is. Doesn't seem like she was a village hero or anything."

Just as Umemura murmured that, an elderly man in a three-piece suit approached from the other side.

"This girl, Oyuki-chan, appears in an old folktale."

The old man gave a friendly smile.

"Excuse me, I'm the vice principal at the elementary school up ahead. I tend to be a bit of a know-it-all."

The old man slapped his bald forehead with his palm. We returned his smile.

Umemura quickly pulled out his business card.

"Sorry to bother you. We're from the Tokyo Cultural Promotion Bureau. We're investigating oral literature from across Japan."

"Oh, how courteous of you."

The old man and Umemura were already chatting like old friends.

Watching from a distance, Akitsu muttered.

"He's amazing. I want Umemura to handle all the interviews from now on."

"No way. You need to watch and learn too, Akitsu."

"Some people just aren't cut out for it."

I mimicked Katagishi and gave Akitsu a pat on the back.

Just then, I heard a wolf howl by my ear. A gust of wind swirled past.

It was just my imagination.

Or so I thought—until I saw a fur-covered beast's paw peeking out from the base of Oyuki's statue.

I took a step back. The paw vanished instantly. The statue girl's forehead was wet, as if splashed with cold water.

Droplets trickled from the top of the statue's head, pooled in the hollows of its eye sockets, and spilled over like tears.