At Kinosaki: Ao Nimaru

This is a tale of old Japan, from the days when the scourge known as COVID-19 was still classified as a Class II pathogen under the Act on the Prevention of Infectious Diseases.

A pair of foolish fellows were driving a car fitted with winter tires up a snowy mountain road, grousing as they bumped along.

“Grr. Thanks for nothing, idiot GPS, now we’re completely lost. If I’d known this would happen I would have bought a brand new unit instead of cheaping out on this used garbage.”

“Who’d have thought it would take us off the national route and onto this horrible remote track? I haven’t gotten a single bar on my phone for ages now.”

Shigata and his younger work colleague Butsuhara were presently lost somewhere in the mountainous Tajima region of Hyōgo prefecture, having traveled many leagues from their home prefecture of Nara in search of Kinosaki Onsen.

“Hell, this damn place is just like Nara: all mountains and trees and stuff. I can’t wait till we’re out of here and in view of the wintry Sea of Japan. Once we get to Kinosaki I’m going to lower myself into a piping hot spring and gorge myself on plump snow crab until I’m bursting at the seams!’

“I could go for some sashimi dipped in soy sauce, but crab hotpot and crab broth porridge are pretty tempting too!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be able to use GPS on your phone even if you don’t have any reception? I can’t believe our phones crapped out on us too!”

Keeping one hand on the wheel Shikada pecked with his other hand at his phone, which was plugged into a charger. But the screen remained frozen and unresponsive. Glancing over at the passenger seat he saw Butsuhara tapping tenaciously on his own device, with much the same results.

“Looks like we really underestimated the mountains of Hyōgo. By all rights we shoulda been relaxing in a hot spring right now after a full lunch…”

“Just three hours away by car, Kinosaki Onsen is a perfect day trip from Nara!’ That’s what I read online, anyways.”

December was coming to an end, and in the midst of the ongoing cold snap they were surrounded by a field of pure white. The mountain road was bereft of signs or billboards; on the other side of the guardrail they saw only an endless dense sea of pine trees.

As if overwhelmed by the mountainousness of it all, the GPS unit which had led them so astray let out a frantic beep, before giving up the ghost and going dark for good. At the same time their phone screens turned off, finally having run out of juice.

“…Well, there goes 94,800 yen down the drain,” sighed Takada, poking the GPS touchpanel.

“116,000 yen for me. I just upgraded my phone, 22 months to go before it’s paid off,” replied Butsuhara, staring morosely at the bricked iPhone 13.

Up to this point Shikada had still been optimistic, but now his face looked a touch pale. He pulled over to the icy shoulder and looked at Butsuhara.

“Say, I just felt a chill go down my spine. It’s gotta be my sixth sense going off. I think we’d better turn around now and forget all about hot springs and crab.”

“You…you’re right. Just bad luck all around today.”

“Let’s call it. On our way back, what do ya say we stop by Kani Doraku and get us some crab porridge?”

“Sounds great to me! Let’s make a U-turn and get back on our way!”

But after they had retraced their route for some distance the comforting ribbon of the national route was still nowhere to be found, and there was not a single sign to tell them whether they were even heading towards Nara anymore.

“Damn. Think we’d better call for emergency services?”

“We can’t, our phones are broken!”

“Yep, we’re in a pickle all right.”

At this point all the blood drained from their faces.

“What the hell!?” shouted Shikada suddenly, slamming hard on the brakes. Startled, Butsuhara looked through the windshield, and past the wipers scraping back and forth he saw, sitting in the middle of the road, a lone little monkey listlessly staring at them.

“It’s a monkey. A wild monkey.”

“I guess out in the sticks you can find these little guys everywhere, not just in Nara.”

Shikada laid on the horn to try to scare the monkey away, but the monkey hardly reacted to the sound. In fact, it started to shuffle towards the car.

“Uh, I think it’s coming this way.”

“You’re right. You’d think wild animals would have better instincts for self-preservation, but there’s always an odd banana in the bunch.”

Closer and closer the monkey came, until it hopped right up onto the hood. Now they had no choice but to get out and try to shoo it away, and yet the monkey refused to budge.

“The hell is wrong with it? Weirdest monkey I’ve ever seen.”

“It looks like a baby. Maybe it got lost.”

“Ah, poor thing. Well if you’re lost that makes three of us, little man―er, monkey.”

The monkey put its hands together and did a little shiver, then turned to face Shikada.

“You don’t suppose it’s hungry, do you?”

“You mean it’s asking for food? I didn’t realize you spoke monkey, Shikada.”

“I don’t, it’s just the feeling I get. Didn’t you put those dried persimmons you got from your folks in Gojō in the trunk? Why don’t we give this fella one of those?”

“I guess we could. But we’re already in a bind, are we really in a place to be giving our precious rations to a monkey?”

“Still plenty of gas left in the tank, we’ll be fine. This poor little guy needs it more than we do.”

Shikada popped the trunk and took out a fat dried persimmon from a paper bag, then held it out in front of the monkey.

“Go on, take it. Gojō tsurushigaki are famous, you know. They’re real sweet. Think they call them hoshigaki in other parts.”

Hardly had Shikada finished talking than the monkey hurled itself on the proffered persimmon, chewing with evident relish. Neither of them could stop themselves from grinning at the precious sight. When it had finished eating, it let out a single satisfied, “Ook!” and then sauntered back into the trees.

“I’d say it enjoyed that persimmon, eh?”

“I think you were right, that monkey was too famished to move. That was incredible, you’re a real monkey mind reader!”

“You calling me dumb as a monkey or something?”

“Now you know that’s not what I meant.”

Chattering to each other in disbelief they returned to the car and started off aimlessly again down the road. But not long afterward the snow began to flurry down in earnest. The sky, the road, the trees: everything was blanketed in pure white.

“What the hell do we do now? Can’t see a thing now, and all these bends in the road are starting to make my stomach turn.”

“I’m getting carsick, too.”

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be sitting in a hot spring right now, or slurping up some piping hot crab porridge.”

But they could only look at each other with chagrin and struggle on through the blizzard.

Out of nowhere the lights of a building came into view amidst the blowing snow. Getting closer they saw that it had a dignified Japanese-style facade, with a large sign nearby that read:

YAMAKANI-YA

Crab Hotpot Onsen Ryokan

“Butsuhara! Look at that! It’s a ryokan!”

“You’re right! Who’d have thought we’d find a godsend like this hidden in the mountains?”

“And you see that sign? Crab hotpot! This place is like a dream come true! Let’s get a room for the night and wait for the storm to blow over”

“You read my mind! Let’s just pray they’ve got a room available for us.”

When they had set out early that morning they had only planned on a day trip to Kinosaki Onsen, but now that things had gone south they had no choice. They parked in the lot and fought their way through the heavy snow to the entrance.

The thick automatic doors slid open, admitting them to a spacious, red-carpeted hall with gold-leafed byōbu standing along the walls.

“What a luxurious inn to find all the way out here.”

“Suddenly I ain’t so sure my wallet can cover this. You think they take cards?”

“It’s weirdly quiet, don’t you think? Given how out of the way this place is I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have too many customers, but I don’t see any staff around either.”

“Now that you mention it…where’s the front desk?”

As they talked they scanned the lobby and found a long scarlet-lacquered counter. But they approached it to find it empty: instead of a concierge waiting to greet them, there was an LCD monitor on a stand. A long block of text scrolled up from bottom to top like movie credits.

Welcome to our inn. We are pleased to let you know that rooms are currently available. Check-in begins at 3 p.m., and check-out is tomorrow at 11 a.m. Our onsen draws directly from a natural hot spring and is open for use at any time of day. For dinner, we offer a full course meal featuring unlimited snow crab. Furthermore, today marks the tenth anniversary of our opening. In celebration, all guests are invited to enjoy their stay and meals at no charge. We look forward to serving you.

The pair leapt for joy when they read this.

“No charge!? Hot damn! After all this bad luck it’s about time something went our way! Hell, this is such an unbelievable stroke of luck that I almost expect the other shoe to drop at some point.”

“Just look at how nice this place is, I can’t wait for dinner! Unlimited prime snow crab, imagine that! I’m almost glad now that we didn’t get to eat lunch!”

It so happened that the antique clock on the wall by the front desk had just struck three. The two read the text as it continued to scroll up the screen.

Please continue through the automatic doors on the left; there is no need to check in. We have many regulations which must be strictly adhered to. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

They looked left and spotted the glass sliding doors.

“A large number of regulations? What does that mean?” frowned Butsuhara.

“I reckon it means that in exchange for the free stay, you gotta fill out a bunch of surveys and stuff. From the looks of it they don’t get too many customers around here, so management needs all the unvarnished feedback they can get.”

“Hm, I guess that makes sense.”

“Yep, that’s gotta be it.”

The two idiots shrugged and continued through the glass doors deeper into the ryokan. They found themselves in a corridor with kyōkabe walls of olive-green, which led to a red wooden sliding door which resembled a torii gate. In front of this door was yet another monitor mounted on a stand with more scrolling text.

Dear guests, to prevent the spread of COVID-19 the wearing of masks is required.

Both of them let out a resigned sigh at the same time.

“Infection regulations, so that’s what they meant.”

“Well, we’re both already wearing masks, ain’t we? I mean, how many people go travelling these days without wearing a mask?”

Each of them looked at the white nonwoven masks on the other’s face. I would like to emphasize that, as you all well know, from the very beginning of this tale neither of our protagonists have removed their masks for even the slightest moment.

“If I remember correctly, three months ago Hyogo prefecture lifted its state of emergency for the fourth time.”

“Over in Nara we ain’t had but one emergency declaration this whole time.”

“They never even declared that semi-state of emergency whatsit in Nara, did they. But they’ve still got Omi¹ on the TV every day, talking about the new wave of infection and ‘preparing to adopt a new mode of living.’”

“I wonder how long we’re going to have to keep taking these infection measures.”

“Maybe centuries, maybe forever.”

“Damn, that’s a horrible thought.”

They pulled the door aside only to find that it led to yet another straight hallway, at the end of which was another red sliding door and another monitor on a stand, which had the ostentatious directive:

For the safety of your fellow guests and to prevent the spread of COVID-19, please check your temperature and disinfect your hands.

Beside the door was a tidy pair of contactless thermal scanners and pedal-activated disinfectant stations.

“Same old, same old.”

“Emergency COVID-19 measures…this is our new mode of living.”

“Ya know, there’s something funny about this ryokan. Why are there so many doors in this one hallway?”

“It must be part of that Three C’s strategy the Tokyo governor’s always preaching about, you know, social distancing. These partitions must be to block airborne particles.”

“Ah, I get it now. That’s why they don’t got anyone manning the front desk, because of social distancing. You can’t talk to anyone face to face until you’ve got a mask and disinfected and they’ve taken your temperature. Very sensible system they’ve got set up here.”

“Mmhm.”

The two idiots shrugged once more and, after verifying their temperatures on the scanners and thoroughly disinfecting their hands, opened the third door and continued onward, into yet another long corridor with yet another door at the end, and yet another all-too-familiar LCD monitor on a stand.

Please present your vaccine card QR code to the scanner.

said the supercilious caption, and beside the monitor was what appeared to be a QR code scanner.

“I’m starting to think this is getting a little much,” mumbled Butsuhara, but Shikada instantly shook his head.

“No, this has gotta be part of the government’s Go To Travel phase 2 campaign. I ain’t used it before either, but I hear that if you’ve got at least one booster shot you get a hefty discount from hotels and lodges and such. They’re just being thoughtful to make sure we don’t forget to use the discount.”

“Sure, but isn’t our stay free? What do coupons have to do with anything?”

“You big dummy. If we stay free that just means we got to do our part and comply with the monitoring. Hurry up now, you’ve got your booster, so just get your vaccine app out to show it to the scanner.”

“But our phones are dead, remember? They won’t even charge anymore.”

“…That’s too bad, we’ll just have to skip this one,” said Shikada with a slight flush, and together with Butsuhara he passed through the red door. He was starting to feel that if he didn’t see either a hot spring or a bowl of crab porridge soon he was going to go stir-crazy.

“This is a little out of nowhere, but can I ask what you did with your 100,000 yen SCP check last year?”

“Well, hell, what did I do with it? I think it just disappeared into my everyday spending. How about you?”

“Me? I bought a Nintendo Switch. Without it there’s no way I would have made it through lockdown for a whole year.”

“A Switch, huh? I’m surprised you got your hands on one, it was sold out everywhere.”

“Yeah, actually, I ended up buying it from a scalper. That’s why it took the whole 100k.”

“Damn, so ya caved in, huh.”

As they walked along the next monitor came into view, with yet another unusual ask.

Please apply the disinfectant solution thoroughly to your face and neck areas.

Next to the monitor were two more pedal-activated dispensers. By this time the slightly less foolish of our two protagonists was getting suspicious.

“I get disinfecting our hands, but rubbing it on our faces and necks? What’s going on here?”

But again Shikada shook his head and said, “They’re just being extra-careful. The virus don’t just live on your hands, you know, your face and neck are exposed to the air. You gotta make sure to kill the virus there too. The way I see it, they gotta have some real important guests in there. A place all the way out here, maybe they host celebrity bashes, or conferences for government bigwigs.”

“I see,” said Butsuhara, and together they pumped their hands full of disinfectant and rubbed it all over every inch of their faces from forehead to chin and down to their necks. I fear I must retract my previous statement: Butsuhara was actually every bit as foolish as Shikada.

They slid the next door open, only to find behind it a sign reading

Did you make sure to disinfect behind your ears and around your nose?

accompanied by more dispensers.

“That’s right, I forgot about my ears. I almost carried those little virus buggers into a room full of VIPs! This management don’t miss a thing.”

“I forgot to rub it on my nose. Hey, is it just me or does this disinfectant smell really boozy?”

“The hell are you talking about? Of course it smells boozy, it’s made of alcohol!”

“Yeah, but I mean it smells more like mirin or cooking wine than sake, with a hint of ponzu mixed in.”

Indeed the liquid had a very faint brown colour. But the two shrugged at each other again, convincing themselves that it must simply be a different kind of disinfectant, and rubbed it all over their noses and ears before traipsing down the hallway.

“The manager is damn neurotic about infection control.”

“You don’t think they’re the kind who forces people to eat in complete silence, do you?”

“Well, I suspect everyone’ll be too busy prying apart their crabs to talk much anyhow.”

The next door soon presented itself to them, but unlike the others, this one had a short blue noren with the character ゆ, for bath. Lo and behold, it led to a bathhouse changing room, with lockers along the wall and rattan flooring. Once they had taken off their shoes and stepped up onto the raised floor they found as they had expected another LCD monitor with the following instructions:

Before you retire to your rooms, we invite you to relax body and mind at our renowned hot spring facilities. Please leave your clothes here, then head through the glass door to our outdoor bath.

Two of the lockers had been left open, with neatly folded hand and bath towels placed within.

“A bath before heading to our rooms, eh? Real novel.”

“Check-in just opened up, so maybe they’re still getting our rooms ready?”

“Maybe so. Well, there’s nothing for it. We’re staying for free after all, so let’s be patient with our gracious hosts.”

They stripped off their shirts, then their socks, then their pants and underwear, and placed them in the lockers. After shutting their respective lockers with a click, they looked at each other’s stark naked form, and then burst out laughing.

“Ha ha! You dunderhead, you’ve forgotten to take off your mask!”

“So did you, ha ha!”

“Damn, you’re right! I barely even feel it now, it’s such a part of me. Ha ha ha!”

“Me too. Whenever I don’t have it on I actually feel uncomfortable, heh.”

Chortling to themselves, they put their masks in the lockers, then took their hand towels and walked eagerly through the door to the bath, eager to avail themselves of all the different kinds of bath that these “renowned facilities” must offer. But once they were outside, they saw only a single large open-air rock bath in the midst of the enclosed Japanese garden, without even showers or a washing area, let alone other kinds of baths.

“Well, huh. I guess they’re like a pitcher with a mean fastball; they’re betting their spring water is so good they don’t need any other gimmicks. No showers means they probably don’t have other water sources or heat sources, so this stuff has gotta come straight from the source.”

“All right, it’s too cold to stand around showing off how much you know about hot springs, let’s just get right in!”

Fortunately the blizzard had begun to slacken just before they entered the ryokan, but a white wind was still moaning, and flecks of snow had begun to pile up on their heads and shoulders.

“Not so fast. Let’s at least show a bit of manners and rinse ourselves off first,” said Shikada, looking around for a bucket. But all he discovered was a sign beside the bath.

Please accept our humble apologies for the many regulations you have had to endure. This is the very last one. The pot on the ground before you contains salt; please sprinkle it all over your bodies. This is essential to prevent the spread of COVID-19. Now please sprinkle the salt all over yourselves and rub it in thoroughly.

The salt pot was nestled at the base of the sign. This time, at long last, in the midst of the frozen milieu, both of our nude protagonists stopped and frowned.

“N-now, wait a second. This is just too much!”

“I hear that salt has antibacterial properties or some such, but even I’m starting to get a funny feeling about all this.”

“Remember that disinfectant that smelled like ponzu? Now we’ve got salt. It’s almost like we’re seaso―”

But just as Butsuhara was on the cusp of an epiphany, Shikada interrupted him with a loud clap.

“I’ve got it!” he shouted. “Hold your horses, I’ve got it!”

“Got what?”

“It’s a salt sauna!”

“Huh?”

“You heard me, a salt sauna. It’s all the rage these days. Salt causes osmotic pressure, which improves blood flow in your peripheral blood vessels, so rubbing salt into your skin helps you work up a sweat, or something like that. It doesn’t just help fight infection, it’s got detox benefits too. Yep, that’s gotta be it. Pretty sure. Awful thoughtful of the management, to offer free salt.”

While Shikada was blabbering on and on the north wind had picked up. Butsuhara’s lips were turning purple and his shoulders shivered like pudding.

“O-o-okay, I’ve had enough, can I just g-get in? It’s December and we’re standing naked outdoors in the c-cold.”

“Abs-solutely not,” insisted Shikada through chattering teeth. “Y-you’ve gotta do it f-f-for a real de-detox.”

He leaned down and grabbed a fistful of salt, then proceeded to salt himself liberally like an overgrown french fry. Seeing this, Butsuhara relented and followed suit with reckless abandon. They were so thoroughly coated that it was hard to tell whether it was snow or salt which covered their skin. And at last, unable to withstand the cold any longer, they jumped into the bath with enormous twin splashes.

“Oh, ohhhh, that’s the stuff. I’m alive again!”

“Heck yeah, you can say that again. Ain’t you glad we took the time with that salt, huh? Now we can sit back and enjoy the essence of a real natural hot spring. Ahhhh.”

They stretched their legs as far out as they would go, feeling the warmth seeping into their bodies, and sighed again and again.

“Feel those toxins coming out in your sweat? It’s like dashi leaching out of us.”

“Dashi, huh? Ha ha ha! That’s real funny. I guess that makes us the hotpot ingredients, heh heh…wait a second.”

“Ingredients? Us?”

The two turned their disinfectant-coated faces to look at one another in dismay.

“Those regulations they were talking about, those were to prevent COVID-19 spreading, weren’t they?”

“But somewhere along the way they started to get kind of weird. Remember how the disinfectant smelled like ponzu? And that business with the salt.”

“Ya know, there’s something else.”

“What?”

“Hot springs usually smell of sulfur, don’t they? But don’t this one smell a little like kombu?”

Butsuhara cupped a handful of hot spring water and brought it up to his nose, and noticed that there was a distinctly umami scent.

“That’s kombu, all right. Now that you mention it, this water is kind of yellowish but it’s still see-through. At first I thought it was just the iron content, but it almost looks like hot pot broth…”

“You mean this bath…it’s like a hot pot? Now that’s just crazy talk…ain’t it?”

“Remember what the sign out front said? ‘Crab Hotpot Onsen Ryokan’…”

“…So you’re saying that the crab hotpot doesn’t mean hotpot made from crabs, but hotpot for crabs? Then, then this isn’t no outdoor hot spring we’re sitting in, it’s a―”

“We’re the food…aghh!”

Quiver quiver quiver…they were sitting in a steaming pool, and yet both of them began to tremble so violently they couldn’t get the words out. And what’s more, the temperature was rising at an alarming rate.

“W…we gotta…get out…!”

They desperately tried to clamber out, but it was as if they were chained down. They could only sit there helplessly as the water temperature rose towards boiling.

“Ow! Ouch! Hot!” quiver quiver quiver

“Oof! Oh! We’ll be boiled alive!” quiver quiver quiver

As they shook and sobbed, four enormous crabs, each of them easily over 10 meters in length, emerged and surrounded the bath, speaking their crabby speech.

“It’s too late now, foolish humans. It’s far too late!”

“Your plan worked perfectly, boss. These days, you just have to write ‘COVID-19’, and these humans will do anything you say!”

“This COVID-19 business must be really nasty if they’re so afraid of it!”

“Heh, they’re about to learn they shoulda been afraid of us instead. For too long they’ve captured our brethren, and boiled them and ripped their legs off and slurped up their brains. They’ll regret every crab they’ve eaten a thousand-fold now, yes they will!”

The two men were so terrified that their expressions were frozen into a likeness of the statue of Gyōki which stands in front of Kintetsu Nara Station. They held each other tightly, sobbing without words.

“Prepare to die, humans. First, we’ll immerse you head-first, so that your insides get nice and hot!”

With this burbling threat, a massive pincer descended toward their heads. The two shut their eyes, convinced that this was the end, when they heard a cry reverberate in the distance: “Ook! Ook!”

Without warning a flood of monkeys came flying over the hedge, so many it was impossible to count them all. No sooner had the giant crabs seen them did they begin to froth and swivel their eyestalks in terror, crying out, “No! Not the monkeys! Not the monkeeeys!”

Without hesitation the daring monkeys leapt onto their far larger foes, plunging the scene into confusion. The crabs waved their claws around like construction cranes, trying to knock away their tormentors, but the nimble monkeys dodged aside and clung on for dear life to the enormous shells, nipping and clawing at the crabs’ eyes as well as every soft spot they could reach.

“Ooh! Ow! Get off, get off!” the crabs cried. Soon enough the melee turned into a one-sided rout, and the crabs scuttled off in a ragged pod, wailing, “Retreat! Retreaat!”

Watching them go, the monkeys let out screeches of triumph, and after trotting a victory lap around the bath the troop abandoned the scene as quickly as they had arrived, heads held high as can be.

While this was all going on, Shikada and Butsuhara sat there in utter disbelief. But before long they realized that one monkey remained―and to their great surprise it was the very same baby monkey to which Shikada had given the persimmon!

It looked at Shikada with its big round eyes, and after letting out another satisfied “Ook!” as it had after eating the persimmon, it streaked off like a meteor after its comrades.

In another moment, the two men realized that the ryokan, rock bath and all, had vanished without a trace. They were sitting in a snowy patch of grass, completely butt naked, freezing their bottoms off. The ferocious blizzard had died away, and the sun shone through a patch in the clouds.

“Helloo!,” they suddenly heard someone shout from far away. “Is someone there? Anyone there?”

Their surprise lasted only for a moment.

“Help! Help us! We’re over heeere!” they screamed at the top of their lungs, their voices thick with tears and mucus.

After a little while they saw an old man in an orange vest from the local hunting lodge beating his way through the grass to them, and only then did they let themselves bawl out in joy and relief, hugging one another tight in their birthday suits.

“You two are a hell of a sight. What the hell are you without any clothes out here in the mountains?”

The two excitedly told the old man everything that had happened. But in response to their unbelievable tale, he just looked at them sympathetically.

“Well, we don’t want you two catching cold, do we? Why don’t you go on and get dressed.”

Looking around, they saw that their shoes and pants and phones were caught up in the trees or lying scattered in the grass. A flush of consternation rose up into their pale faces, and they fairly flew to cover themselves up.

The kindly hunter guided them in his car, and at long last they found themselves back on the national highway. But owing to their long naked spell in the snow, upon their return to Nara they were immediately laid out with fevers of over 39°C.

They say fools never catch colds, and indeed after taking a PCR test at their local clinic just in case, they both tested positive for COVID-19.

Even after they had recovered, the lingering aftereffects left their sense of taste a little dulled, which no number of pills or hot soaks would cure, so for a long time afterward neither man was much tempted by a scrumptious meal of crab.

⁎ This parody was inspired by Miyazawa Kenji’s The Restaurant of Many Orders.

Footnotes

1. Omi Shigeru, head of the Subcommittee on Novel Coronavirus Disease Control ↩