Chapter 3: Hakusan Shrine

The next day, the first Saturday in April, was a clear day with a warm breeze.

The sky was a washed-out blue, filled with the breath of spring, and greenery was everywhere.

Minamoto Kiyomoto came out of Hakusan Station and followed the map towards Hakusan Shrine.

He was handsome and clear-featured. Women who saw him along the way would inevitably take a second look, and then a strange feeling would arise in their hearts—

As if they had seen this person many times in their dreams.

When they returned to reality, they would understand that this was an illusion, because anyone who saw him would have the same thought.

After a short walk and up a flight of stairs, Hakusan Shrine was before him.

The shrine’s torii gate had faded. On closer inspection, it seemed as if it had never been red in the first place.

On this spring morning with the cherry blossoms in bloom, there were already a few housewives with their children playing in the shrine.

The crisp chirping of birds, the clamor of children, the housewives’ idle chatter, and the occasional caw of a crow.

Minamoto Kiyomoto had looked up information about Hakusan Shrine yesterday.

During the annual rainy season, thousands of hydrangeas would bloom, and tourists would flock here. Otherwise, it was just a very ordinary small shrine.

After glancing at the cherry blossoms for a few moments, under the intentional or unintentional gazes of the housewives, he began to search for ‘the thickest tree.’

‘Why not just meet at the torii gate? Even the worship hall or the purification trough would be better than some ‘thickest tree’.’

If he had Kamibayashi Miko’s contact information, he would have called her last night to reason with her.

He walked around the shrine and found the thickest tree on a very small slope.

Minamoto Kiyomoto finished climbing the stone steps and looked out.

It was a banyan tree, with dense shade and gnarled, coiling roots.

To the left of the banyan tree was a small flower bed, and right behind the flower bed was a wisteria-covered walkway.

The wisteria was newly green, casting shade, and Kamibayashi Miko was in that shade.

Today she wore a red and white miko outfit, with a white haori over it. The cuffs were embroidered with white magnolias.

Her magnificent black, straight hair, which had hung naturally on her shoulders yesterday, was tied into a ponytail today with a hollowed-out metal hair clasp.

In the south wind carrying the scent of cherry blossoms, whether from the side or the front, Kamibayashi Miko was as ethereal and beautiful as a celestial being, bringing to mind the phrase ‘a secluded orchid in a deep valley.’

“It suits you very well,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said as he approached.

“Thank you.”

Kamibayashi Miko put away her phone. Minamoto Kiyomoto took the opportunity to glance at it and saw an email from the university’s academic affairs office on the screen.

He had received this email last night. It had superfluously stated:
“An incident of a crow attacking a person occurred on campus today, near the Faculty of Law and Letters Building 2. When a crow caws ‘caw-caw,’ it is a danger signal. All teachers and students are advised to be mindful of what is behind them when passing through.”

“Some crows attack people without ‘cawing’,” he kindly reminded her.

Kamibayashi Miko was clearly not interested in crows. Without a word, she walked straight towards the trunk of the banyan tree.

Under Minamoto Kiyomoto’s gaze, she disappeared into the tree trunk.

“Harry Potter? Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?” he said as he followed.

Before going in, he first tested it with his hand. His hand also didn’t touch the tree trunk but extended into an unknown space.

When he walked in, he found himself standing under a torii gate. This time, the torii gate was red.

A stone monument stood under the torii gate, with the four characters for “Hakusan Shrine” written in Chinese characters.

Behind the torii gate was a straight path, surrounded by shady green trees, as if he were in the deep mountains somewhere in spring.

Completely different from Tokyo, the fresh air filled his entire lungs, just like opening a refrigerator door in summer.

“Where is this?” He retracted his gaze and looked at Kamibayashi Miko in confusion.

The young woman in the miko outfit almost blended into the scene before him, as fitting as hearing the distant, tranquil bell of a temple in the early morning.

“A hidden shrine,” Kamibayashi Miko explained. “You are from Shikoku. On Teshima Island in the Seto Inland Sea, there is a hidden shrine whose entrance can be seen by ordinary people.”

“Teshima Island?”

Like a resident of Suginami Ward who only knew about Roppongi from television, Minamoto Kiyomoto, who was born in Shikoku, had no idea that Shikoku had a Teshima Island.

“Nagashima Shrine on Teshima Island is a hidden shrine whose entrance can be seen by everyone when the tide recedes. But only those with divine power can pass through the torii gate and enter the hidden realm.”

“I see… wait, how do you know my hometown is Shikoku?”

Kamibayashi Miko glanced at him and replied:

“I am a third-year student in the language department of the Faculty of Letters. People have been talking about the ‘Shining Prince’ since the day I enrolled.”

The protagonist of “The Tale of Genji”—Genji—was astonishingly beautiful, his looks comparable to the sun and moon, and he was immensely talented. The world called him the “Shining Prince.”

Because Minamoto Kiyomoto’s surname was “Minamoto,” he was good-looking, and his grades were excellent, many girls had secretly given him the nickname “Shining Prince.”

Being so popular, his birth and past experiences were naturally not a secret.

Counting the “thank you” from when they met, she had one last sentence left within the ten-minute window. Minamoto Kiyomoto thought for a moment and said:

“You probably already know, but I’ll introduce myself anyway—my surname is ‘Minamoto,’ Minamoto Kiyomoto.”

“I know,” she replied rather perfunctorily.

“Speaking of which, so Miss Kamibayashi is from the Faculty of Letters,” Minamoto Kiyomoto smiled. “No wonder I felt like I must have seen you somewhere before. This is what they call: those who are not of the same family do not enter the same door.”

The young woman had placed a curse on herself, allowing her to speak only five sentences in ten minutes.

At this moment, she was staring at Minamoto Kiyomoto with a cold gaze, like a taxidermist examining a butterfly.

“It’s because you kicked me yesterday,” Minamoto Kiyomoto held a grudge. “Do you know how I got back to my dorm?”

Kamibayashi Miko sighed, took a step with her white-socked feet, passed through the torii gate, and walked along the path towards the worship hall. Minamoto Kiyomoto followed behind her.

In her miko outfit, with her hair tied in a ponytail, her aura was even more pure and otherworldly. The sunlight shone on her, making her sparkle.

The two walked silently in the shade of the trees. Minamoto Kiyomoto had a恍惚 feeling that she was really taking him to see a god.

The tender leaves above swayed, and the sunlight filtering through them glittered on the ground.

Passing through a Tang-dynasty-style wall and around the main hall, the two arrived at a large, ancient-looking residence.

“Miko-sama,” a little girl stood at the courtyard gate.

“Mm,” Kamibayashi Miko nodded, changed her shoes, and walked into the rustic wooden house.

Minamoto Kiyomoto sized up the peculiar little girl before him.

Her face was somewhere between a girl’s and a young woman’s. She wore a white female military uniform, and her blonde hair was coiled into a small bun at the back of her head.

A pair of bells was tied to her slender waist, the same gold color as her eyes and hair.

She was only about 1.3 meters tall. Although not tall, her proportions were harmonious, so she didn’t look short-legged or unattractive, but rather small and exquisite.

Her chest was completely flat, but her smooth legs under the military skirt could compensate for this shortcoming, achieving a balance.

Other than her blonde hair, golden eyes, and golden bells, she was snow-white all over, like a cluster of sunlight.

No matter how you looked at her, she was not a normal person.

“What are you looking at!” The military uniform girl’s delicate little face tensed up, her attitude was terrible, and her image instantly dropped.

“Sorry,” Minamoto Kiyomoto saw her as a child and had a good temper.

To be fair, his slightly condescending scrutiny was indeed a bit rude.

“Who allowed you to get so close to Miko-sama? Get back two meters!”

“…” Minamoto Kiyomoto stepped back two meters.

This had nothing to do with the military uniform girl.

Kamibayashi Miko didn’t like to have connections with people, and even restrained herself for this reason. He didn’t understand, but he respected others’ choices.

The military uniform girl snorted with satisfaction, looking imperious.

Minamoto Kiyomoto followed Kamibayashi Miko into the house from two meters away and came to a spacious Japanese-style room.

From here, you could see the backyard, where there was a green plum tree that had already borne fruit. In addition, the fragrance of some unknown flower kept wafting into the room.

Minamoto Kiyomoto was in no mood to pay attention to these things.

He sat down facing Kamibayashi Miko, still two meters apart.

The military uniform girl stood behind Kamibayashi Miko, looking slightly taller than the two kneeling people.

Ten minutes had not yet passed; there were still three minutes left.

At this moment, ten-centimeter-tall female sprites with butterfly wings, wearing miko outfits, fluttered in, working together to bring tea and snacks.

Then they either sat on the tatami mats or lay on the floor, watching them.

One butterfly sprite flew to Kamibayashi Miko’s beautiful, slender shoulder.

The butterfly sprite sat there, swinging its legs like a child, its blue eyes curiously sizing up Minamoto Kiyomoto.

‘Spirits? Yokai?’ Minamoto Kiyomoto guessed in his heart.

Then, he turned his gaze to Kamibayashi Miko.

‘She doesn’t get close to people, but is it okay with these?’ he continued to ponder.

In the remaining three minutes, to be precise, ever since that one-yen coin was folded in half, he had been pondering this mysterious young woman in his heart.

Ten minutes passed, and Kamibayashi Miko spoke calmly:
“There are some things I must make clear to you. Once you start cultivating and gain divine power, you must participate in battles.”

“Battles?”

Kamibayashi Miko didn’t speak, but glanced at the butterfly sprites lying on the tatami mat.

The butterfly sprites flew away, and after a short while, they flew back.

Four butterfly sprites were carrying a book, flapping their wings with all their might.

“Go, go, go!” The one on Kamibayashi Miko’s shoulder cheered them on, but didn’t move an inch, its slender legs still swinging happily.

After the book was placed in front of Minamoto Kiyomoto, the butterfly sprites who had carried it were already panting with exhaustion.

“Thank you,” Minamoto Kiyomoto picked up the book, his eyes fixed on these exquisite, lifelike, and translucent butterfly sprites.

“Ah!” The butterfly sprites scattered in fear, all hiding in Kamibayashi Miko’s clothes and hair.

“What are they?” Minamoto Kiyomoto pointed at the sleeve of Kamibayashi Miko’s miko outfit.

There, two butterfly sprites were peeking out as if from a cave.

Being pointed at by him, the butterfly sprites immediately retracted their heads.

“Manners! You are not allowed to point at Miko-sama!” The military uniform girl grabbed the bell at her waist, and the bell turned into a black police baton, looking as if she was about to come over and teach him a lesson.

“Shirako,” Kamibayashi Miko glanced at the military uniform girl.

“Hmph!” The military uniform girl named Shirako inserted the baton, which was just the right size for her, back into her waist.

It didn’t turn back into a bell. It seemed this “prison guard” was ready to administer corporal punishment at any time.

Minamoto Kiyomoto looked at the military uniform girl’s waist, or more accurately, the baton on her waist.

The bell turning into a baton, this scene before him allowed him to glimpse the essence of this world through a crack, and his mood couldn’t help but start to get excited.

“Spirits, my shikigami,” Kamibayashi Miko explained.

“Not yokai,” Minamoto Kiyomoto nodded, then asked, “By the way, can yokai be used as shikigami?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Yokai directly use the ‘breath of the gods,’ while shikigami use ‘divine power’.”

“What’s the difference between the ‘breath of the gods’ and ‘divine power’?”

“‘The breath of the gods’ is the sun, tides, wind, water; ‘divine power’ is electricity—I’ve written all of this in the book. After you finish reading it, tell me your final decision.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto said as he opened the book:

“Miss Kamibayashi, I find that you are very good at explaining, but there is one point that needs to be corrected. The energy of tides, water power, and wind power are all provided by the sun, just in different forms of expression.”

After finishing her fifth sentence, Kamibayashi Miko had already turned her gaze to the spring-filled courtyard. After hearing Minamoto Kiyomoto’s “correction,” she brought her gaze back.

She stared at Minamoto Kiyomoto.

That look was all too familiar to Minamoto Kiyomoto.

Yesterday, when she took his book and then kicked him into Sanshiro Pond, she had this exact look.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Minamoto Kiyomoto moved back another half a meter.

In terms of seeing through the other person’s weaknesses, he was a prodigy, able to grasp the key points of a problem with extreme sensitivity, and this had almost become a part of his subconscious.

With anyone, as long as he spent some time with them, he could roughly guess their thoughts.

At this moment, from Kamibayashi Miko’s gaze, he smelled the prelude to “she will definitely make a move”—or possibly a kick.

“I get it,” he said quickly. “The essence of wind power and water power is not important at all! The important thing is that the ‘breath of the gods’ cannot be directly used by us ‘electrical appliances,’ right?”

“Having a teacher like Miss Kamibayashi is truly my blessing!” he added another compliment.

Kamibayashi Miko slowly moved her gaze away from him. When she looked at the courtyard again, she was already considering whether to dig a pond there.

Minamoto Kiyomoto felt waves of danger and couldn’t help but move back again. Later, he simply found a pillar and leaned his back against it before opening the book in his hands.

◇

There are yokai in this world.

Mountains, rivers, weather, animals, all phenomena can turn into yokai.

Not the kind of yokai that kills a family or eats a few people, but yokai as large as mountains, that split the deep sea and submerge islands.

On March 11, 2011, the Coral Demon Moth appeared in the eastern Pacific Ocean.

This giant beast with the body of a moth and coral horns on its head made landfall in Miyagi Prefecture and, with its three pairs of sky-blotting, water-blue wings, stirred up a huge tsunami.

The tsunami swept through Iwate, Miyagi, and Fukushima prefectures.

Tens of thousands of ordinary people died, and the cultivators who participated in that battle were almost completely wiped out.

It wasn’t until the Ogosho who ruled Kanto sent out experts that the Coral Demon Moth was seriously injured and forced back into the Pacific.

The city that was the main battlefield—Rikuzentakata—was razed to the ground, leaving only ruins.

The Coral Demon Moth was only seriously injured, not dead. After so many years, the nearby coastal areas were only dared to be used for growing crops, and not a single residential building was dared to be built.

Rikuzentakata didn’t even grow crops, becoming a paradise for pampas grass, a desolate wasteland.

The number of yokai is small, but there are always a few each year.

Throughout Japan, anyone with divine power must participate in the subjugation of yokai. This is the “battle”—a ‘kill or be killed’ struggle between the few humans with divine power and the yokai.

The three rulers of Japan are the Ogosho of Kanto, the Lord of Kyoto in Kansai, and the Taiko of Hokkaido.

The three parties have had an ancient pact. If a yokai appears in any one of their territories, the other two must send cultivators from their lands to assist.

The Coral Demon Moth that appeared in Kanto killed not only Kanto cultivators; Kansai and Hokkaido also suffered heavy losses.

“I am not your teacher.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto looked up from his notes at Kamibayashi Miko’s pure and otherworldly face, for a moment unable to distinguish between reality and illusion.

The earthquakes, tsunamis, typhoons, heavy snow, volcanic eruptions, and landslides reported on television were not natural disasters, but yokai.

This could perhaps be considered another kind of natural disaster.

He came back to his senses, took a second to recall the conversation from ten minutes ago, and then knew what she was talking about.

“Then what is our relationship?” he asked, half in agreement and half in curiosity.

“Strangers who will be together for a period of time, and will always be,” Kamibayashi Miko’s eyes were as clear as water, reflecting Minamoto Kiyomoto under the pillar.

(End of Chapter)