The Second Night - Okuhida

“For me, it’s not so much about the journey as it is the people I travel with. When I travel with people, it feels like we’re all locked in a room together.”

Takeda was the second to speak.

He was a year younger than me, just a first year in college when I met him at the English conversation school. Though he looked shy on the outside, he could be surprisingly bold, and he’d hit it off with Nakai and Tanabe pretty quickly. “Takeda’s such a suckup,” Hasegawa had once said of him, and it was true that he did have a tendency to brown-nose.

After graduating, he’d gotten a job at a science publishing house in Tokyo, working on textbooks and books for the general public.

What follows is Takeda’s story.

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This story happened in the fall four years ago, when I went to Hida.

There’s a man in his thirties named Masuda where I work. He was in the same section and showed me the ropes when I first started working there. We’re in different departments now, but we still eat and hang out together when we’re off work.

Near the end of October, Masuda invited me to a meal and asked me, “How’d you like to go to Hida for three days in November?” Beside me and him, there were going to be his girlfriend, Kawakami Miya, and her little sister Ruri.

To be honest, I already knew this wasn’t going to be some relaxing getaway. I’d hung out with them a few times, so I was familiar with how their relationship worked. At work they acted the part of picture-perfect grownups, but when they were together they turned into squabbling children who were always butting heads. Ruri lived in Miya’s apartment and commuted to college in the city, but she was timid and pretty much the opposite of her big sister, so she just did whatever Miya told her to do. I knew if things blew up on the trip she’d be no use at all.

“So that’s why you’re inviting me, huh?”

“Be a pal!” Masuda wheedled, laughing.

Well, I don’t really mind being the peacekeeper, so I told him, “All right, I’m in,” and in November we all set off.

The first half of the trip went smoothly, thanks in large part to my own efforts.

We met up at Shinjuku Station and took the Limited Express Azusa to Matsumoto, where we spent the day walking around the castle town and stayed at a hotel in the city.

We were planning to rent a car the next day and drive through the mountain pass to Hida Takayama. In the hotel room Masuda spread out a map.

“In the old days Route 158 used to be called the Nomugi Highway,” he informed us. Apparently female workers had climbed this road to reach the silk factories deep in the mountains.

Listening to Masuda’s share his vast wealth of knowledge as we all peered at the map was part of the fun of the journey. Tomorrow’s going to be a breeze, I thought. In a way it almost felt like a letdown.

But the next morning the metaphorical weather took a turn for the worse, the reason being that Miya was in an incredibly foul mood.

The atmosphere in the car was like being crushed in a tin can.

Miya sat in the passenger seat with her face turned away, while Masuda gripped the wheel mutely. At times like these, there was nothing that Masuda could do to improve her mood. In the back seats, Ruri sat like a statue beside me, not moving a hair. She always got like this when her big sister was angry. For a while I tried to keep the mood light, but in the end I had to give up, and after I threw in the towel no one said a word.

Route 158 led west through the city and delved deep into the mountains. After a while it split off from the old Nomugi Highway and headed towards the Abō Pass. Okuhida lay at the end of a long tunnel, and if all went smoothly going down the mountain roads after that, we would reach Hida Takayama around eleven.

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We met the old woman as we were coming down near Hida Takayama.

The first thing we saw was a minivan parked at the side of the road. A man in a suit was standing by the van, waving his arms frantically, trying to flag us down. A shiver went up my spine when I saw him. The cream-colored minivan looked common enough, and he seemed like a nice enough guy, so I had no idea where that feeling had come from.

I heard Miya snap from the passenger seat. “Don’t stop.”

“I can’t just ignore them,” Masuda said in a soothing tone, applying the brakes.

Parking behind the minivan, he opened the door and got out. In the silence he left behind Miya clicked her tongue loudly. Through the front windshield I saw the man in the suit explaining something and pointing at the minivan.

Wanting some fresh air myself I got out and walked towards the two men. The autumn air was brisk and chilly, carrying the smell of damp leaves and dirt.

The man had been taking his aunt to Hida Takayama, but they’d run into car trouble and he wasn’t sure when it’d be fixed. To make matters worse, his aunt was supposed to be giving a small lecture in the city, and the start time was already fixed; if we were heading in that direction, couldn’t we give his aunt a ride? It seemed like an unusually unexpected turn of events, but that would explain why he was so frantic.

“Sure, why not. I’ll give her a lift,” said Masuda.

I quickly took him aside and whispered, “Hold on a sec. Where is she supposed to sit?”

“We’ll just get Miya to move to the back seat. You three can fit back there, right?”

“You’re just asking for trouble. Miya’s going to be pissed!”

This just seemed like a way for him to get back at Miya. Knowing that she’d take the news better if it came from me, I scurried back to the car. Miya arched her eyebrows at me.

“So what’s he taking his sweet time for over there?”

“The minivan’s broken down. The guy’s asking us to take someone to Takayama...you wouldn’t mind sitting in the back for just a little bit, would you?”

“Hell no. Who made him boss?”

“He’s already said yes. Come on, Miya, you’ve been in a mood all morning, too. Masuda’s just trying to get back at you.”

“You’re saying this is my fault?”

“Okay, Masuda’s kind of being a jerk too.”

“I know, right? Can you believe him?”

“Just try to think of it as doing a good deed, huh?”

An old woman got out of the minivan, smiling as she walked over. She looked like any old granny you might find hobbling around your neighborhood shopping district, not someone who would cross over the mountains to give a lecture, yet I felt another shiver go up my back. Miya seemed to share my unease.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered.

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The old woman introduced herself as Mrs. Mishima when she got in the car.

As we traversed the mountain roads towards Hida Takayama, Mrs. Mishima talked animatedly in the passenger seat. Masuda was relegated to listening, but I had a feeling that even if he hadn’t shown the slightest sign of interest in what she was saying she would have kept talking all the same. Compared to the awkward silence from earlier it was a welcome relief. Miya glared out the window and pouted silently, while Ruri sat crammed between the two of us making herself small.

“Heavens, what could I be worried about?” Mrs. Mishima replied, after Masuda brought up how uncomfortable it must be to be sitting in a stranger’s car. “I could tell just by looking at your face.”

“Am I that handsome?”

“I’ve got a knack for reading people, you see.”

“Are you from around here?”

“Oh, I was born in Okaya, but ever since I married I’ve lived in Matsumoto.”

Her great-grandfather had managed a silk factory, and the Mishimas had once been a prominent family in Okaya, but by the time she got married the fortunes of the family had taken a turn for the worse. Her husband was a longtime employee of a regional bank, and they had three children. The eldest son ran a restaurant in Matsumoto, their daughter worked at a local craft furniture company, and their youngest son had a job in Tokyo. Soon after retirement her husband had fallen ill and died, and now she lived alone in a house near her oldest son. She would sometimes help at his restaurant and watch her grandchildren, and with her own work to keep her busy she hardly had time to feel lonely at all. Today her nephew had been taking her to give a lecture in Hida Takayama.

“Keeping busy is the secret to health,” she claimed.

“What’s your lecture about?” I inquired.

The answer she gave was very mysterious. “You all might not be so interested in this sort of thing, but I can see the future. There are a lot of people out there who take a lot of interest in that.”

“You mean palm readings, astrology, things like that?”

“Oh, I’m not quite clever enough for difficult things like those,” she laughed. “Mine is quite simple. All I do is look at the person’s face. All sorts of things come to me when I look at people’s faces. A face expresses many things. It shows you everything that’s been, and things that are to come, more or less. All I do is tell them what I see.”

Ruri suddenly piped up unexpectedly. “What do you see in my face?”

“Let’s not bother her with that,” Masuda said in an admonishing tone. “It’s her work, after all.”

“That’s quite alright,” said Mrs. Mishima, smiling gently. “But I warn you, not everything I see will be pleasant. Once I see something it can’t be unseen.”

“I don’t believe in stuff like that,” Miya interjected, her voice scathing. I bet she just wanted to say something snippy.

Mrs. Mishima turned around and drew her contemptuous gaze across our faces. Her glance was sharp as a sweeping halberd. I was taken aback, and Miya and Ruri seemed just as startled. The only one who failed to notice anything was Masuda, the driver.

“C’mon, don’t—don’t be like that,” he chastised us, turning to Mrs. Mishima and saying, “I’m awfully sorry about that.”

“I’m not offended,” said Mrs. Mishima calmly, turning to face forward again. “In this line of work, people say all kinds of things about you. It doesn’t bother me one bit.”

And then she went quiet too.

What was that look she had just given us? Of course, I didn’t believe in the occult, or seeing into the future. But there had really been something weird about the look in her eyes. All the way to Hida Takayama, I occasionally stole glances at her reflection in the side mirror. She seemed to be engrossed in scribbling in a notebook, preparing for her lecture.

Eventually I started to see shops and old stone walls pop up on the sides of the highway, and we entered the town of Hida Takayama. From the hotel in Matsumoto the sky had looked cold and aloof, but here in Takayama it seemed to have a kind of softness, like its color changed depending on what town you were in.

Mrs. Mishima’s lecture was being held in the cultural center to the west of the JR Takayama Station, which was a surprisingly grand, modern-looking building. After thanking us and getting out of the car in the parking lot, she began to walk away, but after a few seconds she turned and trotted back to us. This is what she said.

“Go back to Tokyo.”

“Of course, we’re going back tomorrow.”

On hearing Masuda’s reply Mrs. Mishima shook her head vigorously.

“If you don’t return now it will be too late.”

We all looked at each other, wondering what she was talking about. But her face was perfectly serious, not the slightest hint of humor in her expression.

“Two of you have the shadow of death.”

It took us some time to realize what she had said. Leaving us sitting there bewildered, the old woman scurried away and vanished into the cultural center.

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The shadow of death appears in the faces of those who, due to some illness, find themselves on death’s doorstep. The first thing that popped into my head when I processed her words was the face of my grandpa, right before he died in his hospital bed. In my child’s eyes, his face had looked so shrunken, and the color of his skin had changed. He didn’t seem like the grandpa I knew at all. Was that what she had meant?

I looked around at everyone, but obviously I didn’t see any shadow of death in their faces.

Miya got out and moved up to the passenger seat. “Well that’s one way to say goodbye. That’s what we get for being good Samaritans.”

Masuda made a long thoughtful humming noise, his hands glued to the steering wheel.

We all debated over those parting words, but there was really only one conclusion we could have come to. We weren’t about to abandon our trip just because some old lady we met along the way told us to.

For starters, Miya would never have allowed it. One of her old acquaintances from art school ran a crafts store here, and she was really looking forward to visiting. That acquaintance had also been the one to show us the inn we were planning to stay at tonight.

“Remember how I said something to her earlier? She was just trying to get revenge on me!”

“Well, that could be it.”

“It just pisses me off so much. That’s why I told you not to let her on!”

If all Mrs. Mishima had been trying to do was ruffle our feathers, I had to admit her plan was a wild success.

We had lunch at a local ramen joint, but Miya just would not let up. She kept needling Masuda about giving Mrs. Mishima a ride. At first Masuda just kept apologizing, but as time went his own temper started to fray; knowing how angry she was, he deliberately started being obnoxiously polite until he no longer sounded sincere.

The whole time this was going on, Ruri just silently ate her ramen. Here I noticed in her face an abnormal look of fear.

“Are you worried about what Mrs. Mishima said?”

“Um, yeah, just a little…”

“There’s a lot of funny people out there. Don’t worry too much about it.”

A half-smile came to her face. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

And she quietly went back to her ramen.

　　　　　　　◯

This was my first time visiting Hida Takayama.

The ramen place was near the station, at the mouth of a little alley just off the main street where tiny little shops lined up side by side. The neighborhood had that typical small-city stillness, and I saw more than a few closed shops with their shutters rolled down. Overhead, the autumn sky was bright, but down in the hemmed-in streets the air was chilly, and the entire town felt kind of gloomy.

Once we reached the middle of the town where the river flowed towards the north, the sky opened up and everything felt brighter, and I started to feel a sense of history from the town. With the mass of tourists crowding the narrow streets of the preserved castle town, the whole place felt like a festival.

Miya led the way, a dashing red muffler wrapped around her neck. She wasn’t speaking to Masuda anymore. More than likely she was thinking about her college acquaintance, who we were going to meet.

The crafts store was hidden in a cranny of the town. From the outside, the two-story wooden building looked like an Edo period merchant’s villa, but the inside was all sparkling and modern, like an interior design store. There were all sorts of things, from simple handcrafts to large furniture, and there was even a café space in a corner of the store. An employee went to call Miya’s acquaintance, who came out from the back. He was a tanned, good-looking guy.

“Took you long enough! I was expecting you to come way sooner. I contacted you like forever ago!”

“It’s just so far, though!” said Miya fawningly.

“Come on man, how far could it be? Tokyo’s right there!”

The man led us over to the café. His name was Utsumi, and he seemed like a fun, easygoing type of guy. After graduating from art school in Nagoya, he’d worked in Tokyo for a little bit before coming back to Hida Takayama, his hometown, to run the crafts store. His deep tan could be traced back to all the marathons he ran; he’d started a running group with some of the local shop owners, and this year they’d even participated in a 100km ultramarathon.

“Getting along with your neighbors is important, y’know?” he chuckled.

Getting along was one thing, but to me running 100km for the sake of getting along sounded absolutely insane.

“Looks like business is booming,” Miya commented.

“Yeah, well, we’re doing alright.”

“I thought you’d be lonely out here, but I guess I was just wasting my energy worrying. I’m actually sort of disappointed!” Miya beamed, as if she hadn’t been pouting the entire morning.

It felt like she was doing this in order to spite Masuda, too: there was something intentional about the way she was being so familiar with Utsumi. Masuda didn’t even try to join the conversation. He sat there staring into space, taking minuscule sips of coffee. He could have at least tried to force a smile or something.

After a few minutes of listening to Miya and Utsumi swap stories about their school days, Masuda abruptly stood up and announced, “I’m going to get some air,” and before any of us could react he had left the store.

Utsumi seemed kind of stunned. “Guy’s kinda moody, huh?”

“Ugh, he’s such a bore.”

Utsumi suppressed a smile. “So, how long have you two been going out?”

Miya just snorted.

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We were surprised to learn that Utsumi actually knew Mrs. Mishima.

“You gotta be talking about Mishima Kuniko.” She was fairly well known around the area, and some of his marathon buddies even believed in her powers. “She looks like a regular old granny, but every so often she says some real shocking stuff.”

He wasn’t a fan of her himself, but he had to admit she had this sort of charisma about her. According to local rumor, she’d awakened to her power right after her husband died. A few days before he died, she’d looked into his face and seen the shadow of death. In other respects he was perfectly healthy, but when she saw his face at the doorway of their house it had appeared small and shrunken.

Miya had only brought Mrs. Mishima up because Utsumi had prodded her into talking about the ongoing rift between herself and Masuda. She had probably expected him to say, “What, that’s all?” and laugh it off. But unexpectedly he looked very serious when he heard what Mrs. Mishima had said to us about the shadow of death.

Miya laughed in his face. “You’re not seriously worried about that, are you?”

“No, I mean, I don’t believe in that. But you gotta admit, it kinda makes your hair stand on end…” Utsumi said haltingly.

Miya looked at him incredulously.

Ruri was probably the most frightened out of all of us. She looked like she was holding her breath, and her already pale skin was white as a sheet.

Seeing that made Miya angry. “Stop taking it so seriously!” she ordered Ruri. “And you need to stop being silly too, Utsumi!”

The fact that Masuda still hadn’t come back was starting to worry me.

After a while, Ruri stood up and said, “I’ll go look for him.”

“Just wait here, or else he’s going to come back while you’re out looking for him!” Miya snapped.

But for once, Ruri decided to stand up to her. “I want some fresh air,” she said, before leaving the store.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and the mood became very subdued.

Something occurred to Utsumi. “You’re staying at Hiraya hot springs, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“It’s gonna surprise you, the inn. You’ll see when you get there. Snow’s probably piled up over in Okuhida. The road’ll be slippery, so you’ll wanna be careful—” Utsumi stopped halfway through his sentence, aghast.

It was like no matter what we talked about we couldn’t get away from Mrs. Mishima’s prophecy.

A weird thought occurred to me. Mrs. Mishima had said, “Two of you.” Why two? Why not one, or all four of us?

And which two had she been talking about?

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Masuda and Ruri didn’t return, so Miya and I left the store.

It was just past two in the afternoon, but evening was already creeping into the streets of the castle town, and the shadows of people walking by stretched long and dark. I was surprised how quickly the sun went down in autumn.

Utsumi saw us off at the front of the store.

“The castle ruins are thataway.”

“See ya then, Utsumi. Thanks for everything.”

“I want to see you around here more often. How does once a week sound?”

There was a big smile on Miya’s face as she briskly strode off. I looked back as we went and saw Utsumi standing in front of the shop, watching us go. There was something melancholy about the way the autumn sun shone down on him in the old streets. He wanted to tell us, “You should go back to Tokyo,” I was positive of that. But Miya didn’t turn around once as she walked away.

I struggled to keep up with her.

“Where do you think they went?”

“Who cares? Let’s just keep walking.” Pulling the muffler up over her mouth, Miya grabbed my hand to lead me along.

Buying senbei from a shop along the way, we went all through the old castle town, before wandering towards the gentle slopes and stone walls of residential streets. The further away we got from the tourist areas the quieter everything became, until I could distinctly hear the sound of Miya nibbling away at her senbei.

“Here,” she said, handing its half-eaten remains to me. The familiar aroma of the senbei brought back feelings of nostalgia.

I remembered walking with Miya like this before. I’d spent some time alone with her before, and she’d always been playful and carefree. Sometimes I thought to myself, Why isn’t she like this with Masuda?

“Utsumi’s different now.”

“I thought he was fun to be around.”

“He’s like, superstitious now. It’s kind of lame.”

“Oh, you mean how he seems afraid of Mrs. Mishima?”

“He didn’t used to be like that in school. He was more of a stud, you know? I think he just turned into a wimp when he moved back home.”

Where and what were Masuda and Ruri up to? It felt odd that neither of them had contacted us once since they ran out of Utsumi’s store.

“Should we call Masuda?”

“...Wouldn’t want to disturb them now, would you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Miya scowled. “You’re just gonna play dumb?”

“What are you talking about?”

Miya told me what had happened last night.

She and Ruri had gotten into an argument when they were talking before bed at the hotel in Matsumoto. Ruri had unexpectedly confronted Miya about the way she treated Masuda, and refused to drop the subject.

“I couldn’t believe her!” That explained why Miya had been in such a terrible mood all morning.

“She definitely has a thing for him,” Miya declared.

I didn’t say anything, but I had had my suspicions.

Masuda had gotten Ruri a part-time job at our company for a little while. It was tedious but undemanding stuff, making preparations for a magazine article database. I was part of the editorial department, while Masuda was the system manager, so I got to chat with her from time to time. Her personality was nothing like it was when she was with Miya. Maybe she just felt free to be herself when her sister wasn’t there. Oftentimes she stayed behind even after her work was done, talking to Masuda every chance she could get. I assumed that they were talking about work, or career advice—but of course I wasn’t going to bring any of that up to Miya.

“Are you sure you’re not just reading too much into it?”

“I know that already, okay?”

“Ruri’s pretty straightforward. I think she was just worried about you.”

“Now you’re going to start bullshitting me too?”

“Come on, don’t take it out on me!”

The conversation went back and forth as we threaded our way over the narrow mountain path. An old wooden fence followed the path on the left side. Through the planks I could see trees growing in the garden, their leaves red as though they were stained with blood. At the top of the hill the path turned to the left, leading past a timeworn European-style café.

Miya suddenly stopped in her tracks, looking through the bay window of the café. “Look who I found.” She pointed through the window.

I looked inside and saw Masuda and Ruri, leaning forward and whispering to each other.

When Masuda saw us he got to his feet. Ruri stayed sitting, her head hanging low.

“Let’s go,” said Miya, pulling open the door to the café.

We sat down with Masuda and Ruri, but everyone was silent. Miya asked no questions, Masuda said nothing, and Ruri just sat there looking down. This isn’t good, I thought, looking at the wall behind Miya.

A single copperplate engraving hung there on the wall. On a plate below the engraving was the artist’s name, Kishida Michio, and the title of the work: Night Train——Okuhida. The clinking of the café grew far away as the picture drew me in.

It was a dark, mystical-seeming piece. It depicted a highway cutting through a dark mountain valley and vanishing into the mouth of a tunnel. A tall woman was standing in front of that dark opening, raising her right hand as if beckoning me. She didn’t have eyes or a mouth, like a mannequin, and yet I felt like I had seen her before.

—She reminded me of Miya.

A sudden shiver went up my spine.

For some reason I felt like someone else had followed Miya and me and slipped into the café.

　　　　　　　◯

I mentioned at the beginning that traveling is like being in a locked room.

The trip to Hida with Masuda and the rest was a perfect example. We’d come a long way from Tokyo, yet everything felt like it was getting tighter and more claustrophobic. Of course Masuda had predicted it all along which was why he had invited me, and I’d come along knowing that would be the case.

But somewhere along the way it felt like things had spiraled out of my control. The lights were going dim in the room we were locked in, and it was getting harder and harder to see what was going on in the shadowy corners. The appearance of Mrs. Mishima had been an omen, but you could probably say the same about the way Masuda and Miya and Ruri were acting.

Just to be clear, that applied to me as well. Even I have one or two things that I keep hidden.

In the café, Miya came up with a weird proposal.

“Let’s split into two groups. I bet it’ll be fun that way!”

The Takayama Line heads towards Toyama from the station in Hida Takayama. Around the halfway point is Inotani Station, which rests on the border of Gifu and Toyama prefectures. The trip from Takayama Station takes about an hour. If you’re going to Inotani Station by car instead of train, you can get there by taking Route 41.

Miya suggested that the guys take the train, while she and Ruri would go by car, and we would all meet up at Inotani Station. There were scenic spots aplenty to take in the crimson autumn leaves, whether by car or by train.

Ruri was a good driver, so there wouldn’t be any issues on that end. I heard that she often picked Miya up from work, or just went cruising on her own.

“I don’t mind,” she said.

It was pretty obvious from the get-go what Miya was gunning for. By splitting me and Masuda off, she would have all the time she wanted to chat with Ruri alone, girl to girl. I didn’t like it, but Masuda sided with Miya, so that was that.

We parted at Takayama Station.

“Just take it safe and slow. We’ll be waiting for you at Inotani Station,” Masuda said at the ticket barrier. Ruri nodded dutifully.

So Masuda and I headed for Inotani. To be honest, forget splitting into groups, I just wanted to go back to Tokyo.

Of course I didn’t believe Mrs. Mishima’s prophecy, and I thought this stuff about the “shadow of death” was ridiculous, but I had to admit feeling a little apprehensive about facing the oncoming night. It felt like things were getting out of my control.

Masuda was sitting across the train car. “Sorry about dragging you into all this awkwardness.”

“You’re telling me,” I said, not bothering to mince my words. Masuda deserved it. “Couldn’t you at least try to make Miya feel better?”

“I just wait until the storm’s blown over.”

“I think you’re just being a coward.”

“There it is,” he chuckled ruefully. “But I guess it’s my fault for being a sorry excuse for a human being.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through tonight. Maybe I’ll just go home first.”

“Come on, don’t say depressing stuff like that!”

I doubted that an hour alone would be enough to improve Miya’s mood. It might even make it worse.

The light was fading fast outside, and the abundant colors of autumn looked forlorn and lonely to me as the train sped past. Looking out the window mutely, I thought about the rental car that was going down the highway on the other side of the mountains. What were Miya and Ruri talking about, there in that locked room? I bet they were rehashing the argument from last night in that hotel in Matsumoto.

　　　　　　　◯

By the time we reached Inotani Station, the sun had almost set.

Masuda and I shivered in the cold air as we walked up the platform. Mountains surrounded us on all four sides, white ribbons of snow capping their black peaks. Railroad lines ran parallel with the deserted platform, and across the tracks I saw the station building and mining company dormitories. Everything was so silent it felt like we had come to the edge of the world, making me wonder whether we really should have gotten off in a place like this. We came out of the station building, but Ruri and Miya hadn’t arrived yet.

“They’re just taking it slow.”

“Yeah, but I can’t help but worry.”

“No use in that, we’ll just have to be patient and wait.”

Inside the station building we drank canned coffee while we passed the time, but the rental car wasn’t showing up. It got steadily darker outside, like the shadows of the surrounding mountains were pressing down on us. The cold seeped into my bones.

“What do you think about Mrs. Mishima’s prophecy?” Masuda mumbled, sitting on a bench. His face was washed in dreary fluorescent light as he studied his coffee can.

“Obviously I don’t believe it.”

“Same here.”

“So, what were you doing with Ruri in that café anyways?”

“Oh, there’s not much to tell.”

According to Masuda, he’d gotten so fed up with Miya’s attitude that he left Utsumi’s store and took a walk toward the castle ruins. After he went into that café to take a break, he’d gotten a call from Ruri, who after learning where he was came there by herself.

“That’s all that happened.”

“You looked like you were discussing something pretty heavy with her though.”

“Nothing that important, just Mrs. Mishima’s prophecy,” he said, his eyes fixed on the can.

“Why do you think it scares her so much?”

“It didn’t exactly leave me feeling chipper, either.”

“Yeah, but I feel like she’s just way more scared of it than she should be. What could it be? She is kind of timid, but I always saw her as being more rational than that.”

“She’s got a lot on her mind, I guess.”

The sun had gone down completely, and outside the station was complete darkness.

As I sat on that lonely bench in that lonely place, a strange mood came over me, and I was overwhelmed with the premonition that I would never see Miya and Ruri again.

Maybe it was because of the memory of that disappearance back when I was in college that was slowly resurfacing in the back of my mind. It’d been six years since Hasegawa vanished at the Kurama Fire Festival.

I barely remembered her at all: what her face was like, what she sounded like, it was all a blur to me. But once I remembered that night, I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling, like somewhere there was a void in the world. Surrounded by these black mountains, it felt like the tracks led from Inotani Station directly into the Kurama Station from that night.

It had been an hour since we arrived at the station.

“This is taking way too long,” Masuda muttered, going outside.

I remembered the story Utsumi had told us. Mrs. Mishima had awakened to her powers after seeing the shadow of death on her husband, supposedly. But it hit me then. What if she hadn’t predicted the future at all? What if Mrs. Mishima’s husband had died so that her prophecy would be fulfilled? It was a crazy thought, sure, but at the same time it felt unnervingly plausible.

I stepped outside the station and found Masuda standing in a parking space, still as a pole. He was looking out at the little road leading out to the highway. It was so dark I could barely make anything out.

I stood beside him and looked at the darkness beyond that road.

“Is Ruri in love with you?”

Masuda looked at me, his expression shocked. “The hell did that come from?”

“I heard that you were arguing about it yesterday.”

“From who?”

“Miya.”

“She’s just messing with you. You’re too trusting.”

“Am I?”

“Sure are.”

“You can be really irresponsible sometimes.”

“What did I do this time?” he pouted, just as a dazzling pair of headlights appeared and I heard the crunching of tires on the road. A familiar-looking rental car was coming towards us.

Ruri and Miya had finally arrived.

　　　　　　　◯

Masuda took over the wheel from Ruri, and we set off for the hotel in Okuhida. Checking the map, he reckoned that we just needed to retrace the 41 back to Kamioka-chō and get on Route 471.

“It’ll take maybe an hour to get there.”

“Look how dark it is already.”

“I’ll drive safe. You help me keep an eye out.”

It was almost impossible to tell where the mountains began and the sky began now, and the red foliage was impossible to make out. As we wended our way through an endless series of curves and tunnels, it felt like we were burrowing into the very darkness itself.

I could hear Miya breathing softly from the back, asleep.

“She must have been tired.”

“As long as it keeps her quiet.”

I snuck a glance at Ruri in the rearview mirror. She was staring out through the dark window, not saying anything. In her pale face I saw complete exhaustion.

Neither Miya nor Ruri would give us a good reason why they had taken so long to arrive at Inotani Station. They’d probably been arguing so fiercely they had to stop the car. From the way they both looked when they got to the station I guessed that they’d really been going at each other. But that might also have let them vent excess steam. Miya was already asleep, and Ruri looked like she might nod off any second now. It looked like things would be nice and peaceful until we reached Okuhida.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now. If you drift off my eyes are gonna start closing too.”

“For some reason I just feel super exhausted right now.”

“Well you were pretty worried about them.”

“I would really love to be relaxing in a hot spring right about now.”

The only things I could see in front were the headlights illuminating the paved road, and the red taillights of the car in front of us. In the side mirror I saw a car behind us, keeping the exact amount of distance away from us as the car in front. Where did they come from, and where are they going? I wondered. The sight felt dreamlike, beckoning me to sleep.

I eventually started to nod off.

An unknown length of time later I was suddenly awoken by the sound of someone screaming right beside me. I jerked up. The car was silent, and all I heard was Miya’s quiet breathing in the back. The car was parked on the side of the road.

I thought we’d arrived at the hot spring hotel, but I didn’t see any lights that would indicate that. Masuda wasn’t in the driver’s seat. The headlights of another car washed over the interior, and red taillights receded into the distance ahead. I turned around and saw Masuda and Ruri outside, seemingly rummaging in the trunk of the car.

I turned back around and let my mind wander.

The highway stretched through the pitch-black mountain valley. Pairs of red taillights continued on their way in front of us, before being swallowed one by one into the maw of a lightless tunnel.

As I watched them go, I noticed something white fluttering by the mouth of the tunnel. I sat up, wondering what it was. It looked like a person. That can’t be safe, what are they doing there? I thought, squinting my eyes when a shiver went up my spine.

The person standing next to the tunnel looked like Miya. She was wearing a white dress, waving at me.

I turned around in panic, to see that Miya was still sleeping in the back. Then what was that person? I faced front again, but there was no longer any trace of that weird figure standing by the tunnel.

I thought about the mezzotint I had seen at the café in Hida Takayama. It had also depicted a woman standing in front of a tunnel. Maybe I had just been seeing things, unknowingly affected by that image. Even so, an inexpressible sense of unease remained in my mind.

Masuda and Ruri finally came back inside the car.

“What’s up?”

“She said her stomach wasn’t feeling well. We were looking for medicine in the back.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruri murmured behind us. Her face really did look pale.

　　　　　　　◯

It was a little past seven when we arrived at Hirayu Onsen in Okuhida. After traversing the lightless mountain roads, the lights of the many ryokan lining the streets seemed unnaturally bright, like we’d blundered into a mystical hidden village. The snow sparkled and gleamed under the lights, and gratings in the road exhaled steam up through the air. It didn’t look anything like it had when we had passed through during the day on our way from Matsumoto to Okuhida.

The inn Utsumi had recommended to us was a weird little place.

The first thing that caught my eye was the huge number of taxidermied animals that were on display. A glass case took up an entire wall of the lobby, filled with mounted animals. While Masuda talked to the man at the desk, Miya looked at all the animals, transfixed. Maybe the nap in the car had refreshed her, because she was looking much better, and even her tone of voice had softened.

“I can’t believe they’re all dead. It almost feels like you can hear them calling, doesn’t it?”

“It’s got an impact, for sure.”

Miya pointed at a lean-bodied specimen. “What’s this one?”

“I think that’s a civet.”

Yasuda finished checking us in and came over, and an employee of the inn led us to our room. As we walked along the long corridors, I saw a separate building across the courtyard. Bright light blazed from the windows, but I didn’t see signs of anyone moving in there. The corridors were completely silent.

Our room was pretty typical of a hot spring inn: large, tatami floor, desk, TV, a safe for valuables. In the spacious veranda by the windows were two rattan chairs facing each other, and on the glass table there was an ashtray. The only weird thing about the setup was that there was a taxidermied animal in the decorative alcove.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Miya muttered, sinking into the rattan chair.

“Anyone up for a bath?” I suggested, pulling out yukata from the wardrobe.

Facing out through the windows, Miya said, “I’m going to rest for a little bit.”

“What about you, Ruri?” asked Masuda.

Ruri scowled at the taxidermy and mutely shook her head.

“Then we’ll be right back.”

Masuda and I left the room.

The open air baths were down the stairs at the end of the longest hallway. There was no one there but us. The rising vapor skimmed the bare stone and drifted thickly upwards into the dark sky. As the hot water soaked into my body I felt a wave of relaxation come over me.

“Great bath,” Masuda sighed.

“Life is wonderful,” I sighed back.

“...Shadow of death, huh?” Masuda muttered. “Awful thing to say.”

“You see anything in my face?”

“You don’t look like you’re going to drop dead to me, at least. You’re practically sparkling.”

Here in the warm bath, the threat of Mrs. Mishima’s sinister words seemed thin and far away.

“It feels like those two have calmed down, doesn’t it?”

“You noticed too, huh?”

“Miya’s been pretty gentle since we got to the inn.”

“I guess they must have gotten it all out between them. It’s like I’ve been saying, Ruri doesn’t pull her punches. If they want to explode, you just gotta let them explode.”

“Trying to let yourself off the hook again?”

“What can I say, I am a man of peace.”

I didn’t get why Masuda and Miya didn’t just break up. I liked to think that I would be able to control Miya, but I wasn’t going to wade into it any deeper. If I did, I’d just end up like Masuda, and I’d probably even lose the amount of influence over her that I had right now.

I watched the steam rise and disappear into the darkness of Okuhida. My head was starting to feel light. It felt so comfortable that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I even forgot I was soaking in a bath.

“It’s like the storm’s passed,” said Masuda, reaching out his hand toward the snow piled up on the stone.

　　　　　　　◯

When we came back to the room we found dinner for four waiting for us.

What surprised me, though, was that Ruri was still sitting in the exact same spot, with her bag still sitting in the same place on the floor, glaring at the alcove in the exact same way, like she was frozen in time. The only differences were that her eyes were brimming with tears, and Miya, who we had left sitting in the chair by the window, was gone.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Miya?” asked Masuda, sounding worried. The sound of his voice snapped Ruri out of her daze, and she blinked and rubbed the tears away. But she refused to say what had happened, and just stared at Masuda.

“Did Miya go to the baths?”

Ruri nodded wordlessly.

We waited for Miya to come back, but in vain. Even considering the fact that she’d headed to the baths after us, it was still taking way too long.

Masuda sat in the rattan chair and spaced out, while I lay on the tatami looking up at the ceiling, and Ruri sat in the corner looking pale. In the distance I heard an ambulance, sounding like it was getting closer then farther, closer then farther away. The inn was so quiet that I couldn’t help but follow that sound with my ears. I wondered how it could be going on for such a long time.

“Miya’s sure taking her time,” I muttered.

Out of nowhere Ruri opened her mouth and declared, “My sister’s not coming back.”

“Why not?”

“Something’s happened to her, something bad.”

“What do you mean, bad?” Masuda interjected forcefully.

Ruri straightened her back and placed her hands in her lap. There was something unusual about the look on her face. She looked up and glared at Masuda. “My sister’s dead. She had the shadow of death!”

Masuda was taken aback. “You’re not still worried about Mrs. Mishima’s prophecy, are you?”

Looking perturbed, Ruri replied, “Don’t you think it’s already being fulfilled?”

“You’re tired. You should get some rest,” Masuda replied, picking up the telephone receiver to call reception to lay out a futon. I put a cushion on the floor for Ruri to use as a pillow, and to my surprise she meekly lay down on the floor and shut her eyes.

After a little while Masuda put down the phone and stood up. “It’s not going through. I’m going up to reception, maybe see if I can find Miya on the way.”

Flustered, I grabbed onto the sleeve of his yukata. “What are you trying to do?”

“Ruri’s just scared.”

“Does that look like ‘just scared’ to you?”

“What, do you think I know what’s going on any better than you do? All I know is there’s no way Miya’s dead!” snapped Masuda, before storming out of the room.

I sank down in the chair that Miya had been sitting in.

After twenty minutes, Masuda still hadn’t returned. I was starting to get worried. What was taking him so long? It shouldn’t have been that much trouble to get reception to come lay out the futons. And surely he wouldn’t be ransacking every room in the inn looking for Miya?

“I’m going out to take a look,” I whispered to Ruri, before heading out myself.

While I was making my way towards reception, I couldn’t help but notice again just how bizarrely silent the whole inn was. The silence felt like it was pinning me down, keeping me from moving, just like those taxidermied animals in the glass case. Come to think of it, this oppressive silence had been weighing down on us ever since we had arrived at the inn. I hadn’t run into a single other guest. It was very hard to believe that we were the only ones staying at such a large inn.

The gloomy lobby was deserted, and no one came out when I called out at the reception desk. Masuda was nowhere to be seen. I glanced into the shoebox and noted that Masuda’s shoes were gone.

“He went outside,” said a voice behind me.

I jumped, whirling around to find Ruri standing there.

“Masuda’s left,” she said again, almost as if she knew where he had gone.

I looked through the glass doors into the parking lot, lit by a solitary lamp. Snow had begun to swirl around under that soft illumination.

None of it made any sense. I couldn’t believe that Masuda would have just left us there and gone outside. How could anyone walk around in this weather wearing nothing but a flimsy yukata?

Ruri took my arm. “Let’s go back to the room.”

Maybe it was just the cold, but she was shivering.

　　　　　　　◯

Neither Miya nor Masuda were back when we returned to the room.

Ruri and I sat in the rattan chairs facing each other, waiting for them to come back. There was a look of resignation on her face as she stared fixedly out the dark window.

The lights of the hot spring town seemed to have gone out, and outside the window there was only darkness as far as the eye could see. The outlines of the mountains melted in the blackness, and without lights the entire town of Okuhida was smothered in a darkness so thick it felt like you could reach out and touch it. I felt that if I were to open the window, the darkness would come oozing in.

It was like Miya and Masuda had been swallowed up by the darkness, and when I thought of that my mind was transported back to Kurama.

“A friend of mine went missing, six years ago. Never found ‘em, even to this day,” I said to Ruri. “It was the night we went to see the Kurama Fire Festival.

“Did your friend die?” asked Ruri.

“I sure hope not,” I responded. “Just disappeared. But disappeared isn’t the same as dead, you know. I think she’s still alive, somewhere.”

“Your friend was a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you in love with her?”

“...I couldn’t really say.”

I tried to remember Hasegawa’s face but it wouldn’t come up. It was just smooth and featureless, like that girl from the mezzotint in the café. Hasegawa had been attractive, sure, but it had been hard to get close to her. Maybe she was just shy. Whenever I tried to worm my way into her confidence she would flat out reject me. We’d still interact like normal classmates, but it felt like she always had her guard up around me.

“Let’s change the subject. This feels like an unlucky topic.” I knew that I had brought it up in the first place, but it was starting to feel uncomfortable. “So anyways, we’re heading back to Tokyo tomorrow.”

“...You really think so?” Ruri looked back at me with listless eyes.

The look on her face reminded me a lot of Miya. The way she sat there so loosely, like there were no secrets between us. Miya looked at me that way a lot. It wasn’t much of a stretch that two sisters would resemble each other, but it still took me by surprise. Ruri was always on edge, always careful not to show me what she was really feeling.

For a second it felt like I was sitting face to face with Miya. We’d done this many times before. But no one knew that except she and I.

“You’re so careless, Takeda,” Ruri suddenly remarked, startling me.

“Ouch, so that’s what you really think of me?”

“...And the way you try to dodge things by laughing them off, just like this.”

“I’m not trying to dodge anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you tell me exactly what you mean?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It doesn’t seem like it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re all so careless, Masuda and my sister and you. You just make a mess of everything around you and hope that someone will come along to clean it up. And until they do you just have this indifferent look on your face, like nothing’s wrong. You’re just pretending to be grownups, when really you’re pushing it all on me.”

“I think you’re tired.”

“If I’m tired it’s because you all tired me out.”

Ruri slumped down in her chair and closed her eyes.

She was right, I really am careless. I don’t expect forgiveness just because I recognize that. Whether you realize it or not doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurting someone else. Even after the chewing out I had just gotten, I was only pretending to sympathize with her as lip service. What I was really thinking was, What a pain in the ass. I felt like I was holding my own cruelty in my hand, observing it dispassionately.

“My sister’s dead. What a shame,” she uttered coldly.

I tried to be a little more forceful. “Cut it out!”

“Mrs. Mishima was right, don’t you see?”

“Why would I believe what some crazy old lady says? You’re not being yourself!”

“You don’t know the slightest thing about who I am.” There was an atypical hardness in her voice. “When she left the room, Miya said something to me very gently: ‘I’m sorry.’ That was when I knew. It’s just like Mrs. Mishima said. That wasn’t my sister. My sister is already dead.”

“Yeah, Miya was being kind of weird, but I think she was feeling better after her nap in the car.”

“Those mountain roads were pretty dark,” said Ruri. “Where do you think they led us? Do you really think we’re in Okuhida right now, Takeda?”

She curled up into her chair. It looked like she was holding back laughter, but I soon realized that she was in pain. Sweat was beading on her forehead.

I scrambled for the phone next to the TV. But when I put the receiver up to my ear there was only static. Somewhere behind that noise I heard someone screaming. It sounded like Ruri. But how could she be on the other end?

Snatching the phone away from my ear, I whirled around to find the room silent as the grave.

Ruri’s chair was empty.

　　　　　　　◯

Time passed; how long, I don’t know.

Alone I walked down the long corridor and went into the hot spring.

As I soaked in the bath, images from the trip flashed through my mind: the minivan parked by the side of the road on the way to Okuhida Takayama; the café with that strange copperplate engraving; the procession of red tail lamps weaving their way over the mountain highway in the dark. I sure had seen a lot of things.

Above the open-air bath the sky was jet black, and not a star could be seen. Thick coils of white steam rose up, disappearing into the infinite darkness.

A tremendous loneliness came over me.

It was like the way I felt as a kid, when my eyes sometimes snapped open in the middle of an afternoon nap. The house felt cold and unfamiliar, and my family was nowhere in sight. No one was there to tell me where I was. Something big was going on, and I was the only one that had been left behind. That was exactly the way I felt now.

Where did we go wrong? I pondered.

All of a sudden I saw someone stand up at the edge of the rock wall around the bath. The slender curves of her body emerged gradually from the steam. Water dripped from her slick body as she walked over to me. I saw her face and was happy.

“So this is where you were, Miya.”

“I was here the whole time.”

“I was waiting for you for a long, long time.”

Miya said nothing and sank into the water beside me. She put her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. It had been such a long time since we had cuddled together like this.