Chapter 56
Chapter 56
1. The God of the Calling Tide
The boat's screw was violently slicing through the sea surface.
"So damn loud!"
Behind me, Kirima glared sharply at me. I didn't hear what he said, but it seemed like he had just said something to me.
"Not you, the boat! The boat's loud!"
Kirima sighed and rested his arm on the boat's railing.
The sunlight was glaring, and though the ocean stretched endlessly around us, everything felt strangely dim—probably because the spray from the screw clouded the air.
Apparently, this was a fishing boat that had been modified, but I couldn't tell what had been changed. Instead of fish, people were sprawled out on the deck.
We'd been hopping trains since morning, only to be crammed onto this once-a-day boat. I didn't know where we were headed, but it was definitely nowhere good.
I raised my voice.
"Can't we do something about this noise?!"
"Can't be helped. Our village doesn't have a port that can dock a big ship."
"And the travel expenses are paid with taxes, so we can't really complain."
"Public servants, huh."
As I snapped back, I realized there was an unfamiliar voice among us.
I turned to my side and nearly toppled over—between me and Kirima stood a woman dressed entirely in black.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"My name is Reizei."
"No, seriously, who are you?"
Kirima let out a sigh.
"Reizei is a member of the countermeasure headquarters. She's coming with us this time."
"Since when?"
"Since we boarded the boat."
"Say something, damn it!"
Reizei grinned. With her mourning-dress-like black one-piece, pale skin, and mole-covered face, she looked like she'd just come back from a funeral.
Kirima patted my shoulder.
"This is that psychic scammer I told you about. Uyuu can actually see things."
"Poor guy."
"You don't mean that."
Are all the women from the countermeasure headquarters this eccentric? Maybe you have to be, to keep doing this kind of job.
"Reizei is a folklorist, like Ryoko. She's also worked as a reporter for occult magazines."
"Please don't lump me in with her."
Kirima sighed again.
Reizei crept closer to me.
"Have you met Ryoko yet?"
"More than enough times. She's scary as hell."
"You know her well, then. Did you know? Her husband used to work with us too, but he went missing. Right after he and Ryoko had a falling out."
I gasped. Reizei narrowed her eyes.
"Keep the conspiracy theories in your articles. We're almost there."
Kirima furrowed his brow. I didn't think it was just the sunlight. I'd gotten used to reading his moods. Not that I enjoyed it—just a long, unwanted familiarity.
"Kirima, this village..."
"It's my hometown."
I was speechless. Kirima stared at the rough sea and exhaled heavily.
"I always knew I'd have to face it someday. After the last village, I finally made up my mind."
"But are you sure? If it's the god your hometown worships..."
"Doesn't matter. I came here ready to destroy my hometown."
I couldn't say anything more. The deafening roar of the screw was almost comforting.
Amidst the noise, I heard a child singing.
Spring tide, neap tide... It was strange. Even with the motor and waves being so loud, the voice was clear, like it was singing right beside my ear.
Kirima and Reizei were chatting nearby. I was the only one who could hear it.
I leaned over the railing and saw a white rope floating between the waves. It was too thin to anchor the boat, and its shape was odd.
It was a sacred rope.
A broken sacred rope, which shouldn't have been in the sea, stirred the water like a slender arm.
The moment the boat stopped, the air gliding over the waves changed.
The sea breeze suddenly turned sticky, reeking like a sweaty, clinging sick person.
Jagged reefs like shark teeth opened their jaws. Among the rocks submerged by waves, I thought I saw a white silhouette standing.
As I stepped onto the beach, sand crept into the soles of my sneakers. It was gritty and uncomfortably heavy.
Reizei, wobbling in her heeled pumps, got off the boat with Kirima's help. I looked around, but the singing child was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait, the kid..."
Reizei looked at me quizzically.
"I heard a kid singing on the boat."
Kirima's sharp eyes widened.
"What kind of song?"
"I'm not sure, but it went something like, spring tide, neap tide..."
Kirima's eyes widened even more.
"Is that bad?"
"Not really. It's a song I used to hear a lot as a kid."
The boat that brought us here sped off like it was fleeing. No matter what we did, we had no way of getting back until tomorrow.
As the boat disappeared from view, black shadows began to crowd the far end of the beach.
Villagers, tanned like Kirima, looked down at us. With stern faces, they moved their eyes in unison, like they were here to expel foreign intruders.
Only the whites of their eyes and their teeth gleamed against their dark skin. Their synchronized movement made them seem like a swarm of insects.
"Well, this is something..."
Reizei muttered nonchalantly. Kirima stepped forward.
An elderly woman also stepped forward.
"Renjirou?"
Kirima nodded with a face like he'd just been sentenced to death.
"It's been a while... I'm back now."
The villagers' faces softened like a lie, and they welcomed us in.
As we walked from the beach to the port, we were surrounded by villagers, barely able to see the scenery. The woman who called out to Kirima smiled so broadly her eyes disappeared into her dark face.
"How many years has it been? Over ten? I thought I'd never see you again before I died. You didn't even send word and just showed up out of nowhere."
"Sorry. It was a sudden assignment."
"Oh? So this isn't a homecoming. We don't have any criminals in our family, though."
"Police work isn't just about criminals."
Kirima replied with a grim expression.
I whispered to Kirima.
"Who is she?"
"...My mother."
"Renjirou?"
"...That's me."
It was easy to imagine their mother-son relationship wasn't a good one. Or maybe it was the whole village. I deliberately changed the subject to something trivial.
"Renjirou... So you're the second son?"
"No, I'm the eldest."
"Weird name."
Kirima finally lifted the corner of his mouth.
Pushed along by the villagers, we steadily climbed the slope. The scent of the tide faded, and the path turned into a forest road surrounded by trees.
Reizei, right behind me, was barely visible, swallowed by the crowd of dark-skinned villagers.
Kirima's mother, leading the way, called back to her son.
"What about the other two?"
"They're coworkers."
"Oh, I see. They don't look like police officers, though."
The woman never once looked at me or Reizei, nor did she speak to anyone other than Kirima. The villagers followed silently in a line, and I thought it looked like a funeral procession.
When we reached the top of the slope, the villagers suddenly split to the sides, and my view opened up.
I shuddered at the bizarre sight.
In the very center of the land cleared from the forest, a stone that looked as if it had been smashed into four pieces with tremendous force was placed. Bathed in the shadows of branches and leaves, the blackened stone exposed its gruesome cross-sections.
Sacred ropes were wrapped around the four ends, connecting them to towering, stupa-like pillars in all four directions.
Each pillar was inscribed with: "Kirima", "Ueto", "Masu", and "Esato".
"Kirima..."
I repeated the word in my mouth.
Kirima's mother inhaled. A breath like a whistle leaked from her lips.
The woman arched her back like a bow and screamed.
"Kirima's child has returned!"
"Has returned!"
The villagers on both sides raised voices loud enough to split the air. They repeated "has returned" over and over, their screams shaking the forest.
Stunned, I looked around. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Reizei was also sweating nervously. Only Kirima watched his mother gloomily.
The woman, still arched back, shouted.
"The current Ouzu-sama is about to pass away!"
The villagers repeated the incomprehensible words. Kirima suddenly looked up in surprise.
"Someone who served god so devotedly—I'm heartbroken!"
"We're heartbroken too!"
The woman trembled her face, eyes and mouth wide open, pretending to cry. The villagers repeated the fake sobs without showing a shred of real sorrow.
The dry wails shook the forest.
I finally understood why Kirima had been so reluctant.
This village is insane.