Chapter 7: Konohanasakuya-hime

Minamoto Kiyomoto wrung out his wet clothes and walked up from the pond.

The early spring wind blew, sending a chill through his body. Even colder was his heart, and his gray, uncertain future.

When he first came to Hakusan Shrine, he was already prepared to face yokai, but he didn’t expect it to come so soon.

He was very confident in himself.

No one had ever made him feel inferior; nothing had ever made him feel that he couldn’t do it if he put his mind to it.

Hearing that the battles were terrifying, that even the unfathomable Kamibayashi Miko could die, he didn’t take it to heart.

Cultivating for only a month wouldn’t be of much use, but he believed he could still manage to survive—it made no sense that other newcomers could live, but he couldn’t.

Who would have thought that he wouldn’t even have a month, not even half a month.

This was only the second day. Including tomorrow, it was only three days.

Minamoto Kiyomoto took off his jacket, hung it on the still-empty clothesline, and then sat down on the edge of the corridor, letting the water from his hair drip down his neck.

He didn’t say a word, thinking about how to write a suicide note to his mother. His usually clear and organized thoughts were now a jumble.

‘So you’re this afraid of death,’ Minamoto Kiyomoto mocked himself in his heart.

Kamibayashi Miko glanced at him sideways. That handsome face was expressionless.

“The day after tomorrow is the peak of the cherry blossom season in Tokyo. Konohanasakuya-hime will pass by. The target of this battle is not her, but her branches,” her gaze shifted to the flowers and plants in the courtyard.

“Konohanasakuya-hime?”

“A yokai born from cherry blossoms, or perhaps this yokai gave birth to cherry blossoms.”

“But there are cherry blossoms everywhere in Japan,” Minamoto Kiyomoto looked up at Kamibayashi Miko.

Even from a low angle, this woman was just as beautiful, beautiful without a single dead angle.

“This is because Konohanasakuya-hime has always been alive.”

After Kamibayashi Miko’s explanation, Minamoto Kiyomoto got a rough idea.

Every year in February, starting from Okinawa, then Kyushu, Shikoku, and then to Kyoto, Tokyo, and finally to Akkeshi in Hokkaido, the cherry blossoms would bloom along this route.

In the eyes of cultivators, this was the movement route of Konohanasakuya-hime.

She wouldn’t kill people immediately.

Her divine breath would lie dormant in a person’s body until that person felt they were at the happiest moment of their life. This divine breath would then make the person kill themselves.

After death, the person’s capacity would become nourishment for the nearby cherry blossom trees.

“There are bodies buried under the cherry blossom trees,” this well-known phrase in Japan was not just a saying.

A long, long time ago, when Konohanasakuya-hime first appeared, although she was strong, she was not so strong that she couldn’t be eliminated.

Since no victims appeared at the beginning, all the cultivators at that time held a lucky mentality, unwilling to risk their own lives, and gave up on subjugating her.

When suicides began to appear, they also didn’t attract attention.

It wasn’t until the idea of mono no aware became prevalent, and everyone in Japan believed that people should die at the most beautiful moment of their lives, that the cultivators finally discovered the danger of Konohanasakuya-hime.

And then it was too late.

As far as the eye could see, there were cherry blossoms everywhere. Cherry blossoms and the Japanese people were already connected by blood.

That seemingly beautiful, but in reality weak, ideal was already rooted in their thoughts and passed down from generation to generation.

The three rulers of Japan began to organize cultivators to stop Konohanasakuya-hime.

It was already impossible to completely eradicate her. They could only, during the peak of the cherry blossom season, destroy as many of Konohanasakuya-hime’s spreading branches as possible, reduce the number of suicides, and curb her growth.

But everything has its pros and cons, even failure and disappointment. Konohanasakuya-hime was no exception.

Stopping her growth became the safest of all yokai subjugation battles.

Gradually, cultivators chose their debut battles during the peak of the cherry blossom season to gain experience and increase their chances of survival.

The group of students who registered at the Onmyo Bureau yesterday were this year’s cultivators.

“So that’s how it is,” Minamoto Kiyomoto propped himself up with his hands behind him, looking at the distant sky, and began to feel a sense of anticipation.

So there was still a chance to fight. It wasn’t a situation where he would just die without doing anything. He loved this kind of challenge too much.

After a while, he said, “For a moment just now, I was actually very afraid of death.”

“If you’re afraid of death, then be more obedient!” Shirako scolded menacingly.

Minamoto Kiyomoto roughly guessed why Shirako’s attitude towards him was so bad.

Because of his joining, Kamibayashi Miko could participate in battles and would most likely not live past 25.

As Kamibayashi Miko’s shikigami, of course she wouldn’t have a good face for him.

“Not being afraid of death is not true courage,” Kamibayashi Miko said faintly. “A person who is afraid of death, but in the end dies for their ideals, that is true courage.”

“Isn’t that just you, Miss Kamibayashi?” Minamoto Kiyomoto looked up at her.

Although it wasn’t her fifth sentence, Kamibayashi Miko didn’t answer and turned to enter the Japanese-style room.

“Shirako,” Minamoto Kiyomoto turned his gaze to the military uniform girl.

“What is it.”

“I’ll give you a chance to teach me a lesson,” Minamoto Kiyomoto stood up and raised Polaris.

Shirako glanced at the Japanese-style room, and while turning her bell into a small tachi, she deliberately said loudly:

“You asked for this yourself, so I’ll reluctantly guide you for a while!”

After waiting for a moment and seeing no reaction from the room, she jumped down from the corridor.

“I’ll beat you to death, you piglet!”

The small tachi came slashing towards Minamoto Kiyomoto with a whooshing sound.

Minamoto Kiyomoto, who was already prepared, swung his sword to meet it.

The tachi and the sword collided with a “clang.” The two were pushed apart, and then charged at each other again.

In the courtyard, the metallic sound of clashing swords, the thunder of curses, the sound of flowing water, the sound of rolling logs, and the alternating black and golden lights were dazzling.

“Go! Go!” The butterfly sprites sat in a row on the corridor, clapping hard.

Kamibayashi Miko, sitting cross-legged in the Japanese-style room, glanced at the courtyard and slowly closed her eyes amidst the noisy sounds.

“So you’re this strong, Shirako,” after a battle, Minamoto Kiyomoto’s face was bruised and swollen, full of admiration.

“Call me instructor, piglet!” Shirako still looked like a little angel, her skin so clean it was almost transparent.

“Instructor!”

“Hmph~” Shirako sheathed her tachi at her waist and coolly adjusted her military cap with both hands.

It was already four in the afternoon. The pond in the courtyard glittered with the afterglow of the setting sun. Minamoto Kiyomoto packed his things, preparing to leave.

“Come here at nine tomorrow morning,” Kamibayashi Miko stood on the corridor at some point.

“I can’t afford to come. I can only go to a place that’s free,” Minamoto Kiyomoto didn’t turn his head, carefully wrapping his sword in the tennis bag.

“It’s at Gotokuji Temple. There’s a pre-battle meeting. You can come if you want,” after dropping this sentence, the miko lady disappeared from the corridor again.

“I’m going to the battlefield the day after tomorrow, and you’re wasting my time again.”

Although he said that, he still had to go.

Minamoto Kiyomoto looked at a butterfly sprite beside him who was eating a grape. The bead-sized grape was like a watermelon to her, and she was holding it and nibbling on it.

“Do you have a name?” he asked softly.

“No,” the butterfly sprite sat on the edge of the corridor, eating a grape and watching the sunset, her little mouth bulging, especially cute.

“Then I’ll call you Miss Butterfly. Miss Butterfly, may I ask you a question?”

The butterfly sprite turned her head, looked up at him, and took a bite of the grape.

“Does Miss Kamibayashi take a bath at night?” Minamoto Kiyomoto’s voice became even softer.

The butterfly sprite’s round eyes widened, and she nodded.

“Then why haven’t I seen any clothes hanging out to dry for two consecutive days? It’s one thing not to change her outer clothes, but her inner—don’t, don’t, don’t!”

Minamoto Kiyomoto was wrapped in a ribbon of golden light, and it looked like he was about to be thrown into the pond.

“How am I supposed to go back if my clothes are wet! Miss Kamibayashi! Miss Kamibayashi!”

After a round of apologies, the golden light threw him back.

“What kind of ears, she can even hear that,” he patted the dust off his pants.

“Hahaha!” The butterfly sprite burst out laughing, her mouth full of grape juice.

She kicked her little legs and said cheerfully, “You told me, so of course Miko-sama knows.”

“She can hear what her shikigami hear?” Minamoto Kiyomoto asked curiously.

“Mm—” the butterfly sprite looked up at the wind chime on the eaves, pondered for a moment, then nodded with a force that seemed to want to shake her head off.

“Mm!” After saying that, she happily took another bite of the grape.

“Why are you still here!” At the end of the corridor, Shirako, wearing an apron and preparing to make dinner, stood with her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised.

“Going, going, I’m going!” Minamoto Kiyomoto replied loudly.

“I’m not keeping you for dinner! Get out of here quickly!” Shirako went back into the kitchen.

Minamoto Kiyomoto bent down and whispered to the butterfly sprite, “Among Miss Kamibayashi’s shikigami, you are the cutest.”

“Mm?” The butterfly sprite pursed her lips, turned her head in surprise, and then giggled shyly, “Mhmmhmmhmm.”

“Here~” she held up the grape and said generously, “You take a bite, it’s delicious.”

“Thank you,” Minamoto Kiyomoto pinched the grape with his right thumb and index finger and took a bite.

“…”

The butterfly sprite’s mouth fell open, and tears slowly welled up in her blue eyes.

“Wait, don’t cry, you told me to take a bite, and I only took one bite,” Minamoto Kiyomoto said quickly.

“Waaah—” the butterfly sprite burst into tears.

She flapped her wings and flew up, shouting loudly, “Miko-sama! Miko-sama!”

“Hey, hey, don’t go, I really didn’t mean it!”

Minamoto Kiyomoto quickly picked up his sword and ran along the long path.

Escaping from the shrine, the western sky was already as orange-red as Fanta soda, and the high school building in the distance was dyed a madder red.

On the utility poles, crows were lined up densely.

Minamoto Kiyomoto bought dinner at a convenience store and sat on a station bench.

“Sausage bread, 145 yen after tax; potato salad, 198 yen after tax; soy milk, 98 yen after tax. Another 441 yen gone.”

He put the change and the bill into a plastic bag, inserted the straw into the soy milk carton, and took a sip.

Putting down the soy milk, which was no different from soy milk, he tore open the bread and ate while watching a street performer playing the cello in the distance.

As he was eating, Minamoto Kiyomoto suddenly remembered something and took out his phone.

His phone was full of missed calls and unread Line messages.

He didn’t know where the hidden realm of Hakusan Shrine was, probably not in Tokyo, so he couldn’t get a signal.

He opened Line.

“Want to have lunch together?”

“Want to go play ball? The opponents are the same guys from the law faculty last time.”

“Minamoto-kun, are you not up yet? Or are you reading and not checking your messages?”

“Where are you?”

“Looks like you’re really focused on studying. I was going to ask you out for dinner. Want to go see the cherry blossoms tomorrow? I hear they’re almost in full bloom.”

Minamoto Kiyomoto replied with an apology to the person who invited him to play ball, saying he was reading, and then replied to the girl who invited him to see the cherry blossoms:

“I’ve been reading all day. I won’t be going to see the cherry blossoms. I’m going to the lab tomorrow to dissect a frog. You guys have fun.”

As soon as the message was sent, it immediately showed as read, and then the other person’s reply popped up.

“Oh, then when are you free? You haven’t been hanging out with us recently. Inaba said you have a girlfriend.”

“I can barely afford to buy clothes, and you think I have a girlfriend?”

“Haha, that’s an exaggeration. When are you free?”

“Not tomorrow. The day after tomorrow night is fine, if nothing unexpected happens.”

“Unexpected?”

“Like getting hit by a car and dying.”

After chatting with the other person for a while, he finished the bread in his hand.

Minamoto Kiyomoto picked up the boxed salad and was about to eat when he saw the street performer who had been playing the cello earlier sitting on the bench next to him, also eating food from a convenience store.

She was a pretty young woman who looked about his age.

The other person had two instrument cases. There was a clear wealth gap between her and this guy with a cheap tennis bag.

“Doing this,” he pointed at the instrument case, “does it make money?”

The young woman’s gaze shifted from the rice ball in her hand. She glanced at the bruises on his face and replied somewhat timidly:
“It’s okay.”

“Oh, thanks,” Minamoto Kiyomoto nodded and continued to eat his salad.

If it weren’t for the stingy Miss Kamibayashi, he wouldn’t have asked this question out of curiosity—his mind was full of money now, and he saw everyone as Yukichi Fukuzawa.

Speaking of which, if he could survive the day after tomorrow, he would have 500,000 yen! He could buy fifty hours of Kamibayashi Miko’s time!
“Um,” the young woman hesitated, “sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not.”

“It’s all hard work,” Minamoto Kiyomoto ate a mouthful of salad.

The young woman looked at the bruises on his face again and nodded lightly as if she understood something.

The two of them didn’t speak anymore. After Minamoto Kiyomoto finished his salad and soy milk, he said goodbye to the young woman.

“I’m going to continue working hard for my life. You do your best too.”

“Mm, you too,” the young woman was very shy and a little flustered.

After dealing with the energetic high school girls at the cram school, and practicing the water curse and Shinto-ryu for a while before going to bed, Minamoto Kiyomoto still fell asleep with a tired body.

The next day, Monday, the last day before the cherry blossoms were in full bloom.

When he went to Sanshiro Pond to practice in the morning, Minamoto Kiyomoto brought some rice.

He sprinkled the rice in the pond to attract the carp, and then said to the transparent carp:
“Miss Kamibayashi, are you up? It’s Minamoto Kiyomoto. I’ve already started my morning practice. Yesterday, when I was practicing the water curse, I tried to apply what you taught me during the day, but I didn’t make much progress. Do you have any advice?”

The carp opened and closed its mouth, swallowing the rice. Kamibayashi Miko didn’t speak.

Wait, speak?
Minamoto Kiyomoto suddenly remembered that they hadn’t exchanged contact information yet. Even if they had, there was no signal in the hidden realm.

It seemed this tactic of getting free guidance wouldn’t work.

Just as Minamoto Kiyomoto was about to continue practicing, the carp in the pond, having finished the rice, began to form words.

“Miss Kamibayashi, I love you to death!” Minamoto Kiyomoto was so happy he almost jumped up. He had finally found a way to save money.

From now on, he wouldn’t leave Sanshiro Pond. He would strive to have the pond renamed “Kiyomoto Pond”!
He could eat the 500-yen Akamon ramen for breakfast again!

He suppressed his excitement and looked carefully. The red, white, and black carp formed a line of words:

“When you come, buy a bunch of grapes.”

“…”

“This is too much!”

“Buy grapes?! I can barely afford to eat myself!”

“I’m telling you, no way!”

Minamoto Kiyomoto cursed loudly.

The transparent carp opened its mouth and spat a mouthful of saliva at him. Fortunately, he dodged quickly.

At nine o’clock, Minamoto Kiyomoto arrived at Hakusan Shrine on time.

After two or three hours, he and Kamibayashi Miko had recovered their composure—he wouldn’t curse loudly, and Kamibayashi Miko would no longer have her shikigami spit at him.

“As expected, a good figure suits everything,” Minamoto Kiyomoto praised.

“Thank you, let’s go,” Kamibayashi Miko wore a white shirt and a denim long skirt today.

(End of Chapter)