Chapter Four, in which More Otherworldly Possibilities are Presented and Pondered

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Once out of the forest I sighted an expanse of snowy fields leading to tree-covered hills and mountains. In the far distance there were houses, all of them small and unassuming. It wasn’t a village that anyone could call orderly, and there wasn’t any particular group of structures that could be marked as the village center. I had passed the area by on my way to the old man’s mansion without thinking much of it, and my second look likewise didn’t reveal anything in particular worth noticing.

“This is your village?” I asked the ghost.

Yes, this is the home of all my memories. Other than those I had while at the mansion.

However long that was. Most people didn’t have much reason to leave the villages and towns they grew up in though—I was a bit of an exception to that rule thanks to my unorthodox profession.

“Will you stop possessing me once we’re there?”

Isn’t it easier for us to talk to each other this way? I just have a few things I’d like us to do at the village.

A few things for her postmortem dream date, right? Or whatever she truly intended to do here.

Continuing down the trail, I noticed a thin side path that weaved into the woods. Through the trees I could make out the bridged red poles of a large torii gate.

Oh, it’s the village shrine! Do you want to see it?

Normally I wouldn’t care to, but now that I had firsthand knowledge of spirits existing, I couldn’t help but feel inclined to pay a visit. Perhaps I could be purified, and the whole issue with Spirit-san would end right there.

I bowed to the gate, walked up a very short set of stairs, and continued down a rock-marked path to a small purification washing basin. There was one weathered wooden ladle, which I used to cleanse my hands and mouth. Once I finished, I headed to the shrine itself, passing a tree full of small paper fortunes tied to its branches. This particular shrine had wooden lion dog statues rather than stone ones, but they each guarded the building just the same. I tugged a rope to ring a small gong, then tossed a coin into the donation box. I bowed twice, clapped twice, held my hands together, and bowed once more.

Nicely done, Naoki-kun!

And it was all for nothing.

“You’re still here, huh?”

Don’t treat me like some kind of impure spirit! As if a little sacred water would get rid of me…

My mind lingered on that point as I turned around to leave. I only took a few steps before I stopped, however, hearing the quietest of footsteps. I turned back around and found someone standing directly in front of me.

It only took a moment to realize who this was, given his attire. The white wide-sleeved robe, tall hat, and black wooden clogs made it clear he was a priest. And noting the smooth wooden stick he held in his hand, he was probably the kannushi, or chief priest of this shrine. Actually, he was likely the only priest here, considering the size of the village. But what was surprising was just how young he appeared to be—he looked at least a couple years younger than I was.

“Hello,” I said with a bow.

The priest bowed in return. “Hello.”

I thought he might say something more, but he just stood there with a blank expression.

When he didn’t say anything, I thought I might say something instead. But I couldn’t really think of anything.

“Well, goodbye.” I headed back toward the trail to the village. There was nothing more for me to do at the shrine, so no point in wasting the man’s time.

I neared the tori gate when I saw another person up ahead. There was something familiar about this individual…

It was the same priest. Or was this a twin? Or maybe priests tended to look the same with their matching attire, at least when you weren’t paying attention. I looked behind me to check on the first priest—but he was gone.

The newcomer stopped a few paces ahead of me and bowed. “Hello.”

“Uh, good morning,” I said.

He had the exact same unconcerned face as the earlier priest. So much so, that I was almost certain this was the same man from before. But how did he get so far ahead of me without me noticing?

Spirit-san didn’t have anything to say about it, so I decided not to pursue the matter. With another quick bow, I took my leave and walked toward the archway. But this time, as soon as I was a few steps past the priest, I turned around without warning. I spotted the priest silently sprinting to the trees just off the path. He stopped just as he was about to get behind one of them.

“Ah, you turned around too soon,” the priest said.

“Or turned around just in time,” I replied. He likely expected me to turn around and bow at the gate, as was typically done upon leaving a shrine.

Apparently the priest found it fun to run around and surprise visitors with multiple first visits—and keep acting like nothing was out of the ordinary. I didn’t intend to let the charade last any longer than it had to, however.

Ha ha ha ha! This priest is so funny. I wish I could have met him before.

It seemed impossible for someone in a village this small to not know the shrine priest, but I wasn’t going to talk to Spirit-san about it now.

The priest walked back over to me, quickly reclaiming that humble, elegant composure expected of a pious man. “I try to give passers-by at least one interesting thing to remember before they leave this village. Very little of interest ever occurs here, as you might imagine.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

“So your primary objective here is to confuse visitors—what few this backwater village may ever receive.”

“Traveler-san, I’ll have you know this is more than a backwater village! Do you know what makes it so special?” After a brief pause he answered his own question. “Me! I am more than just a humble priest, you see. I am also one of the world’s most talented musicians, and one of the world’s greatest cooks! Nobody can play the shamisen as well as I can, and nobody can cook a better soup.”

“Really? You can cook soup?” I suddenly asked. I felt surprised I had, since I couldn’t care less.

“Indeed! I can even prove it to you if you’re hungry enough for a bowl.”

Wow, this is the luckiest day of my life! Spirit-san exclaimed. Let’s take him up on his offer.

I didn’t care to stick around with this priest so long, but it looked like this would be the easiest way to appease the ghost. And it wouldn’t even cost me, assuming the priest’s generosity matched his purported culinary skill.

The priest led me to a thatched-roof house not far from the shrine. We had to bend down to get through the entry, but once inside I saw there were more rooms than I expected.

“Are there other priests that manage this shrine?” I asked.

“No, it’s just me and my older sister. She serves as a shrine maiden.”

After we took off our sandals, the priest led me back to a kitchen and dining area. It was a dark room with only one small window, which had a paper covering with a painting of a light brown swallow perched on a blooming sakura tree. It was mostly the dim candlelight of a couple box lamps that guided me to a small floor table.

“I’m sorry there’s no menu,” the priest said. “Just ask me what you would like, and I can make it for you.”

“Let me think about it for a moment,” I said. I waited for Spirit-san to tell me what soup she’d like, but she was keeping silent for some reason.

“You look like the sort of person who likes kenchinjiru,” the priest said, maintaining a perfectly straight face. “More than anything in the world.”

I didn’t have anything against kenchinjiru, but…

“Perhaps,” I told the priest, “but I was thinking of ordering something that someone I know would like.”

The priest clasped his hands together. “You can learn a lot about people by eating the foods they like. If you put your whole heart into it, you can even become that person, if only for a meal.”

Sorry, I’m having trouble deciding, Spirit-san finally said. So she was still there—she had probably placed all her focus on trying to decide which soup she was most attached to.

“Tell me everything about this dearest friend of yours. What is she like?” The priest was making a couple big assumptions here, but I didn’t care to argue.

“She’s a lot of trouble,” I said. “She’s unpredictable, whimsical, and erratic. There’s no telling what she’ll do next.”

The priest just stared at me, motionless. Not even breathing. Was he waiting for me to say something more?

“And she really likes soup for some reason,” I added.

“She’s a keeper,” the priest said.

Just because of the soup?

He went on. “And I know just the soup to make.”

“Really now.”

“I may have been born just to make this soup for you.”

He began gathering spices and bottles from various containers stacked on a shelf, but I couldn’t tell what each of them were from where I sat.

Do you think he really knows what soup I want? Even I’m not sure…

Once the priest got some water boiling, he began to gather and cut up some spinach and herbs I couldn’t identify.

He looked over to me and smirked. “How many times have you had soup in your life?”

“It would be hard to guess.” Perhaps I should have just made up a number.

The priest placed a lump of dough in the pot of boiling water. “How many people in the world are having soup right now, I wonder.”

“Quite a few, I imagine.” Soup was a rather universal type of food, after all.

“How many times have all the people in the world ever had soup…” the priest continued.

He didn’t say anything more for a while. Perhaps the last thing he said gave him a lot to consider, and he needed a few minutes to ponder its meaning and implications. Spirit-san didn’t say anything either—perhaps she too was mesmerized by the meaningless musings.

Was this the new What is the sound of a single hand clapping? But for soup aficionados?

The priest began grilling a little salmon, the smell of which seemed to excite Spirit-san.

That sizzling, succulent scent! Keep smelling it, Naoki-kun. Take nice, deep breaths through your nose.

I decided to see if there was anything useful I could glean from the priest while I was here.

“How have things fared for this village in recent years?”

“The harvest has been sufficient, so most of us are doing all right. No natural disasters, save for a small landslide about a year ago. There was a fishing competition at a nearby lake in the fall, and the largest fish anyone here has ever seen was caught. Caught by a boy just beginning to learn the trade, so it was a big surprise. Then there’s always some new ghost story for everyone to talk about; my sister could tell you all about that sort of thing. Speaking of my sister, she recently got lost for nearly a week, and it turned out she had ended up on the complete other side of the mountains.”

“Your sister likes ghost stories?”

“Yes, she is always eager to learn more about ghosts,” the priest said, checking on the boiling soup. “She has this deep-rooted desire to help people with spirit-related problems, but such issues are pretty rare nowadays. She’s probably somewhere in the village right now, asking people questions about the secluded mansion to the north. There’s been new rumors circulating lately.”

It seemed obvious what mansion he was referring to. “Are you going to get involved?”

The priest shook his head. “I try to just focus on helping people here at the shrine. My sister will probably head to the mansion at some point, though I’d rather she wouldn’t.”

“You think the stories are true then?”

“Most are surely exaggerated, but I imagine at least a couple incidents have some truth to them. Particularly the tragedy that took place about fifty years ago.”

When he paused a long time, I had to ask. “What happened?”

“Much like my own sister, my grandfather’s sister was a shrine maiden. She likewise had a strong affinity for spiritual matters, and when she learned of a haunting at the mansion she was quick to go deal with the problem. Unfortunately, she died. And it’s unclear how it happened. There were no telltale signs of a violent act.”

“What made her go to the mansion?”

“Supposedly an onmyoji was checking on the place, when suddenly all these strange messages written in blood began to appear on the walls.”

That sounded all too familiar.

I wonder what that means, Spirit-san said.

It implied to me that Spirit-san was either lying about quite a number of things, or there was much more to the mansion than even she was aware of. I didn’t like either possibility at all.

“That’s enough about spirits though,” the priest said. “Let’s return our focus to the much more serious issue at hand: Soup.”

The meal was soon completed, the final product revealed to be a white miso soup with bits of grilled salmon, leafy vegetables, a number of herbs and spices, and a boiled ball of mochi.

“New Year’s Day was a while ago,” I said. This soup—zouni—was a ceremonial food.

“Every day can be a new year’s day, if you let it,” the priest said. “A year is just a period of time; you can begin a new one whenever you wish. Perhaps today is the start of a new life for you.”

There was a lot this priest said that felt suspicious. Could he have spoken to me about the haunted mansion because he sensed I had been possessed by the spirit from there?

“Who knows,” I said. “Or were you a fortune teller in your past life?”

Just as I said it, the priest brought out a second bowl of zouni, setting it on the table near my own. I stared at this second bowl, suddenly at a complete loss for words.

Was it true then? Did he actually know I was possessed by a ghost from that mansion, know of her claim to love me, know I had come to this restaurant for her sake, and know I was indeed trying to figure her out?

I managed to point at the bowl of soup at least.

The priest’s expression didn’t change. “Figured I’d have some too. It looked pretty good.”

Of course… The second bowl was for himself. He was going to sit here and join me after putting out the stove fire.

All right, let’s eat! Spirit-san said. I haven’t had anything decent to eat in ages.

I placed my hands together and thanked the priest for the meal.

As soon as I had readied my chopsticks, I found myself nabbing elements of the soup and eating them up as quickly as possible. It was all as good as could be hoped, but it was too hot to be eating this quickly. There was no helping it though—Spirit-san was far too excited to take her time with this.

I wanted to tell her to slow down, but as soon as I was finished chewing some mochi she was already making me eat a leaf of spinach. And then a chunk of salmon.

This is amazing! The most delicious soup I’ve ever had!

I finally stopped eating for a moment and turned toward the priest, who was still waiting for his soup to cool.

“If only I could have come here while I was still alive!” I said. It took me a couple moments to realize it was my own voice that said this, and that I had said it aloud. Wasn’t that something Spirit-san would say, though? Why did I say it?

The priest just looked at me for a few seconds, then turned back to his soup.

He apparently didn’t think much of what I just said, or perhaps assumed he just misheard me. But what was I supposed to make of this development? If Spirit-san really wanted to, she could make me speak the words she wanted me to say, apparently. Perhaps that’s what happened earlier, when I asked about the priest’s soup proficiency.

I just said that, didn’t I? Spirit-san asked, speaking in my head once more. That was so interesting! I sounded so manly just now!

I was concerned she was going to start saying a bunch of random things just to hear her words in my voice some more, but she apparently thought better of it at this time.

There were only a few big pieces of salmon and spinach left, and probably just a couple more bites to go for the mochi. I picked out the wad of gummy rice cake and bit off half of what was left.

I never cared too much for mochi before, Spirit-san said, but this is tasty. I wonder if it’s your taste buds making me think it’s so good? Or maybe the priest chef is just that amazing?

Once I finished off all the larger ingredients in the meal, I set my chopsticks aside and picked up the wide soup spoon the priest had provided for me. The miso soup was satisfying in and of itself, and Spirit-san was quick to agree.

So warm and fulfilling… and you can sure eat a lot, Naoki-kun. I feel like I can hold an entire second bowl. Is that how a man’s stomach is? You really are lucky, Naoki-kun!

I rarely ever ate much at all though, or so I felt. My financial situation certainly never allowed for gluttony, and I had taught myself to be content with even the most basic of meals once I left home and began this undependable line of work.

“Looks like you were pretty hungry,” the priest said. “Why don’t I get a dessert too?”

“Yes, that’d be great!” I found myself saying. I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes. “I mean, no, don’t trouble yourself.” But as soon as I said this, I opened my eyes again and clasped my hands together, leaning my head to the side in the process. “Wait! What kind of dessert?” Rather than try to fight Spirit-san on this, I probably just needed to get something for her.

The priest gave a sort of confused laugh. “Well, I have some dango ready if you want something right away. Otherwise, I could make—”

“That’ll be fine,” I said. “One for the road, if that’s okay.”

So decisive!

I needed to be if I wanted to keep her from getting overly excited and making things even more awkward. If she could make me say whatever she wanted, I needed to be on my way before this priest became any more convinced I was unhinged.

Once I made a donation to the shrine and thanked the priest for the meal, I took my pack and stick of dango and excused myself.

I returned to the dirt path, which gradually grew a bit wider once it joined with the main road leading to the village. More people had walked on this path, its layers of snow packed down into bumpy ice. Given all the practice I recently had walking on ice though, this didn’t pose a problem.

As I passed the first clusters of homes in the village, my hope was that I wouldn’t run into more bizarre people right away. I needed a few minutes at least to work out some things with Spirit-san.

That was a delectable experience, she said in my mind. I’ll have to remember that place.

As if she were ever going to that shrine again. Didn’t she say she’d let herself get exorcised once this pretend date was over with?

The dango I bought was the basic set of three colored balls on a stick—red, white, and green. It had probably been over a year since I had one of these, most likely at a summer festival in some town I was looking for work in. I was a little surprised Spirit-san hadn’t made me scarf it all down already.

“I suppose I should have asked first. Do you like dango?” I was pretty sure Spirit-san would be pleased with anything right now, and it seemed unlikely that someone who got excited for sweets would turn down dango.

I love dango. Should we sit somewhere before we eat it?

I didn’t expect such formality from Spirit-san. “I can sit on that rock if you want.”

There was a large flat rock just to the side of the trail. I ended up sitting on it with my legs to the side, the way that was more typical of a woman—in other words, like Spirit-san. I intended to reposition myself, but instead I proceeded to eat the dango.

And of course, I couldn’t even do that the way I normally would—or rather, the way any sane person normally would. Instead of eating the dango one ball at a time, Spirit-san apparently found it appropriate to force the whole stick of dango in my mouth all at once. Through slightly-clenched teeth I slid the stick out of my mouth and went on to chew all three balls at once for what felt like several minutes.

That was really tasty. Thanks, Naoki-kun! I never could have done it without you.

This was certainly true, and hearing how satisfied she was, perhaps it was finally time I started to bring this whole ghost ordeal to a close.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I said. Seeing I had control over myself again, I stood up and put my pack back on. “If you don’t mind, how about we take a walk and just chat for a bit?”

Yes, let’s do that, Spirit-san said. Let’s talk about everything.

Everything…

“All right, maybe we can start here. How did you really die, Spirit-san?”

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