by Fuyumi Ono
Human relations were interwoven like a complicated net, Seishin had felt. He had the impression that the people of the village had a regional bond that expanded throughout the village. But, that regional bond had at some point had been severed at certain points. Without the people themselves being conscious of it, the village followed the trensd of the era, being dismantled bit by bit.
So this is how it is, Seishin thought. Seishin himself was at the center of the parish families. Being the focal point of so many complicated interpersonal relationships, he hadn't sensed the changes that had taken place. But, bit by bit the village was changing. ----Seishin wasn't the only one who thought that. The elder Koike too shook his head with a sigh.
"In the past, if you asked me about someone from somewhere, I'd know what kind of person they were and how they made a living as if they were my own relative or family, but."
"Is that so?"
"I intended to at least get to know his parents. His father was grieving about it. It seems he suddenly collapsed in Mizboe. And they say he collapsed in a Pachinko parlor, like. He was sure he was going to work but he'd quit his job."
Eh? Seishin asked at that. "His job, he quit?"
"Seems like it. Without a word to his parents. For two or three days he'd been sick, right, unsteady on his feet, but he still went out in his business suit, so they thought he must be going to the company as usually but the company said he quit three days ago. But he was wasting his time at the Pachinko parlor. And that's where he collapsed."
Seishin blinked. What on earth was this? It was similar to Shimizu Ryuuji----.
Perhaps not noticing Seishin's bewilderment, the elder Koike forced a smile. "It's a lonely way to go but there's no helping it, is there? It's sad that we're not long for this world." With that said, Koike tilted his head. "But, what is with these continuing deaths, I wonder, huh?"
2
Monday, September 18th was Megumi's 35th day memorial service.
"With this it's the end of the mourning period it looks like," said her mother Sachiko on the way to Megumi's house. It was past the middle of September and the boiling heat wave had receded.
"End or the mourning period?"
"Forty-nine days they say, don't they. After the 49th day the dead person's soul leaves the home. Since you're not mourning any more it's the end of the mourning. The 49th Memorial day service is when they're really supposed to end the morning but that'd be in October. They say it's not good for the mourning period to span three months. So they're cutting it short and having the end of mourning on the 35th day it looks like."
Kaori hung her head. That's strange, she thought. Whether Megumi's soul was in the house or whether it wasn't didn't change the fact that Megumi had died. Yet when 49 days had passed, you were supposed to clear away the sadness and the sympathy.
And in Megumi's case it wasn't even 49 days. It was still the 35th day, so even though Megumi's soul still hadn't moved on, it was like they were hurrying to chase her out, she thought.
(Megumi.... You poor thing....)
Dying was piteous. You were just cleaned away like this. For certain at this rate she would become "something finished." Certainly Megumi's life had finished on that summer day but Megumi's death had just Megumi, only 45 days had passed. Even though it was something that would never be "finished" so to speak.
Kaori followed with her head hung behind Sachiko who seemed somehow relieved. When they reached Shimizu Megumi's house, there were many guests gathered who, like Sachiko, had seemed to somehow have felt too at ease. Only Megumi's parents and grandfather didn't seem as if they were getting a burdensome weight off their shoulders. They were just as they'd been during the funeral, looking grief stricken. Kaori was just a little comforted by that.
There was still time before the service started. Sachiko went to help in the kitchen. Kaori moved to do the same but was told to refrain from joining the mourning crew's women. Indeed the kitchen was already full with women attendants from the neighborhood, so as urged Kaori went to the second floor. Megumi's room was as it had been, her nameplate still hanging on her door. Of course it was---at least until today, Megumi was in this house. Or was she no longer here? When did Megumi depart from the house? Would she be driven out once the service started?
(Almost like it's an exorcism.)
The Buddhist chants given were the same after all, so maybe that was exactly what it was in truth. Offering scriptures, Megumi's soul would, in pain, leave the home. With no choice she would leave the home, then everyone would say good grief and clear away Megumi's death.
(Even this room...) Kaori thought while looking over the room as it had been not even changed in the slightest. (Will it be cleanred away, I wonder?)
Kaori was shocked by her own thoughts. It was because she was imagining the room as an empty cavity, with her furniture and personal artifacts promptly removed.
"That's.... no."
The room where Megumi lived. This was where Megumi was. Megumi's desk, Megumi's bed. Even if there was indeed no longer an owner, they were Megumi's things, not anybody else's. The things Megumi cherished. The curtains and bed cover were chosen by Megumi. The accessories and miscellaneous goods bought with her allowance, Megumi's heart would be broken when they were gathered up. The stuffed animal Kaori had given her as a present, mementos of trips, they were all things Megumi cherished, so nobody but Megumi had the right to dispose of them. And yet she disappeared from this world. And likewise traces of Megumi's life would be wiped away.
She didn't want that. Megumi's death shouldn't be something that could be so easily forgotten like this. When somebody died, it was supposed to be a more weighty disaster. One you never forgot throughout your life, like a wound in the heart. It wasn't supposed to be something so frivolous you could put some kind of 35 day limit on it.
Kaori looked around her surroundings in panic. She had the feeling that soon now the women helper of the mourning crew would be coming up to clear away the room. It was the end of mourning, so by the end of today Megumi would be gone from the house. So Megumi didn't need a room, they'd say.
Should she try asking Megumi's parents? Please don't dismiss Megumi, don't take apart her room at your convenience. Please don't clear Megumi away like that.
---If she asked that, would they listen to it?
Sachiko's face floated before her eyes. Her mother who said to clear away Megumi's death. If it was Sachiko, she was surely saying the same to Megumi's parents. Clear it away, that in order to do that it was better to take apart Megumi's room. Hiroko might have held the same sentiments.
They weren't in mourning anymore so let's clear it away, and enjoy life in Megumi's stead. Any and everything in Megumi's room, sorted and disposed of. ---It might be. What was here, all of it was very important to Megumi and yet adults didn't usually hold any respect for what children called "important things"
"That's no good, something like that."
At least something, Megumi thought, her eyes wandering the room. Before it was disposed of, Kaori had to take something from here for safe keeping. Yes---she should do that. Some souvenir of Megumi. Kaori wouldn't forget. She wouldn't put her away. She would cherish and preserve "Megumi."
Her eyes looked aroudn the desk. The calendar beneath the desk mat was still on August. Megumi's calendar was halted there. When she had put it in place, she probably didn't think that this would be the last month. There was a text book she was only a third of the way through, stationary with an unopened seal on it.
(....Megumi's not here anymore.)
Kaori examined Megumi's shelves and drawers, searching for "Megumi" herself. All she found were nothing but fragments of Megumi, making her realize all the more that Megumi was no long here. There was no Megumi. That existence had vanished. What remains here were fragments that were far far short of "Megumi."
Searching about her as if about to cry, Kaori's hand stopped. Beneath the deskmat, within the calendar she found the postcard.
> Megumi's writing. A late summer greeting written for him. Only having it written, without being able to send it, Megumi died. Even though it was so precisely written.
(Megumi.... you wanted to send this, didn't you?)
Thinking of that, the tears spilled out. While crying, Kaori snuck it into her pouch. This was short of "Megumi" Even this was not "Megumi." But, Megumi wouldn't want her family to see this. If her room was being taken apart it would be found, and then this unsent late summer greeting would be thrown straight away. That was the one thing she didn't want to let happen.
"It's all right, Megumi...." She wouldn't let them throw it away. She hugged her pouch closely. "...Let's go home together."
She'd bring her back to her house. After today, she couldn't be here anymore after all. Until that 49th day, she could be in Kaori's room. Until the day she naturally went off somewhere far away.
"It's all right, I won't clear you away."
3
When the door opened, Hasegawa looked up. "Well, well. This is unusual."
It was the electronics shop's Katou. It wasn't that Katou coming to the shop was rare but today he had brought his son Yuusuke along. Hasegawa put out two glasses on the counter in front of the two seated at the counter. "You're together. Today is---Ah, it's Sunday, huh?"
The day of the week often slipped his mind. Creole didn't have set closed days. Since it was a shop opened originally as a hobby, so they planned to treat it as something they could close whenever it was a pain but Hasegawa enjoyed having the shop open more than he expected, so it was largely opened every day of the year. In the past the shopping district was habitually closed on Sundays as if it were only natural but lately there were more stores open on Sunday, and while before shops closed at five or six, this too was being slowly stretched out into later hours. This too may have been what they called a sign of the times perhaps.
"Yuusuke-kun, what'll it be?"
When asked, Yuusuke's eyes lowered as if shy. He'd always been a shy child. He was particularly reticent towards Hasegawa but since Hasegawa had lost his son, he was indiscriminately doting on little boys. He was always comparing them to his son, and in that remembering this and that, which may have been the reason. When he'd first lost him, remembering was sad but four years had passed and now nothing but nostalgia warmed his heart.
"Mm?" When pushed to decide Yuusuke responded 'ice cream' quietly. Katou smiled. "Yuusuke picked up someone's wallet today."
"Oh ho?"
"It seems it was a girl's, there was an ID card in it. He brought it to the police to turn it in and we were going to have ice cream as a reward, I said."
"I see. That's very good, Yuusuke-kun."
"But he wasn't there, the resident officer." Yuusuke said, making a troubled face as he looked up to his father.
"That's right," he nodded to his son before looking to Hasegawa. "Hasegawa-san, have you met the replacement resident officer?"
Nope, Hasegawa murmured. Takami-san died, and afterwards an officer named Sakaki took his place.
"About that? I have never seen him either. It's always vacant isn't it, the police substation."
"Isn't it. ...That's strange."
"Tashiro-san tried to peek in a couple of times though. Since the book shop is catty-corner from the police box. It looks like he isn't a very sociable person. Even calling out to him he doesn't reply, Tashiro-san was scowling."
"Heh...." Hasegawa offered out an especially large bowl of ice cream. "Even though you went through the trouble, it's a shame, isn't it?"
So he said with a smile to Yuusuke. Thank you, he said in a small voice. Watching over that with a smile, Katou said "I left a note and left the wallet on top of the desk, though. But, is it all right for him to never be there?"
"That's true. Well, it's a peaceful village, and Takami-san was also always saying he was bored, he was bored. But I'm not so sure now. If every time you go by, the resident officer isn't around, it's still a little worrysome, isn't it?"
Yes, Katou nodded.
"....The Kirishikis at Kanemasa are one example; the people moving in here lately seem to mostly be the withdrawn type, don't they?"
"You've said it. I've only heard rumors they've come, I've never seen them, it's been nothing but those types. It leaves a strange impression doesn't it, very much so."
4
Seishin finished chanting the sutras and turned back around. The people of the Ohkawa family bowed their heads.
"Thank you very much," Ohkawa Tomio said as Kazuko brought in the tea. It was Ohkawa Gigorou who died in Yamairi's 49th day after death. Has that much time passed already? thought Seishin.
"Now it's a load off of our shoulders. Even for that old buzzard, you gotta take care of the mortuary tablet you know?"
Seishin had no particular comment. Keeping quiet he took the tea cup put out in hand. It was a desolate end of mourning attended only by family. Gigorou had children who came with their spouses, and they came with their own children but maybe it wasn't worth coming to the memorial services. Each of them had moved so far away so when you thought of that maybe it seemed obvious but he still couldn't help thinking it felt lonely.
Sotoba's unity was firm. It was firm in its consciousness of who was 'in' and at the same time that firm exclusionary principle rested upon that. Maybe that was why there was a tendency for all of those who had left the society of the village, without even a one percent exception rate, shirked the village as if they'd been dispossessed by an evil spirit on leaving. Once they moved out, the person themselves as well as those who had been around them probably had the feeling that they were now outsiders, Seishin thought.
"Either way, this is just one part of your day. Seems the Shimizu's gots a service today too. The Junior Monk must be working hard."
"No. I am sure it is hard on the Boss as well."
You said it, Ohkawa said shaking his head. "Even just a whole ago, yeah? Our Matsu's place's daughter died. Even though she was still young."
Aa, Seishin nodded. He knew that he was talking about Kami-Sotoba's Matsumura Yasuyo.
"He himself could barely keep himself standing, his wife bein' who she is, sobbed and wailed herself about unconscious. In the end I was the one who gave the funeral. They say what comes twice comes thrice but this is one thing I don't wanna have to do a third time."
"Oh, yes."
"Since then Matsu's been taking off from work. Even though even with him here we're short on help. On top of that they've got a fresh face doing our deliveries now. Our arrangements are just falling apart in here. With all that it's been a whirlwind o' business to take care of in here. I'm tellin' ya."
That must be hard on you, Seishin replied at once. At Ohkawa's side his wife Kazuko looked to be unsettled over something.
"Even so, there have been many funerals, haven't there? It's like, I wonder just what has happened to this village, that's what I start thinking, these days."
Seishin didn't have the proper words to respond to that with. Suspicions were on the rise. And growing stronger at that. Soon enough the dam would break and it would come flowing out. And as for what would happen when it did---.
Without knowing Seishin's thoughts, Kazuko only tilted her head. "How to put this... it feels strange. Something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on it. Just recently too, the Post Office closed down, didn't it?"
As, Seishin nodded. Was it Mitsuo who had been talking about that? He'd heard they'd moved, if he recalled.
"It's just another strange story, don't you think?" Kazuko said, Ohkawa making a disgruntled face.
"You're still talking about that?"
"Well it was strange! You can say that because you didn't see it. But, it happened right before my eyes. The more I think about it the more I think those was the face of a dead man!"
Seishin blinked. "Uhm... What was that?"
Aa, Ohkawa made a sullen face. "From the post office, yeah? Ohkawa-san died, she keeps saying, this old girl. She went
to pay a get-well visit and saw his face, saying it was a dead face. There's no way that'd be the case, but."
With his last words, he turned towards Kazuko. Kazuko looked at Ohkawa resentfully.
"Like I said, I really can't think of it any other way! And even so, that night they moved, didn't they? In the middle of the night! I think it's strange!"
"Pardon me but.... It was in the middle of the night?"
"That's just it!" Kazuko nodded. "They said he was sick, so I went to pay a get weill visit. When I did, his pallor alone was enough to make me think he could possibly have already been dead. But, moving to another home when someone's ill? And it was at night no less! And furthermore when I went to pay a get well visit, there wasn't a single word about them moving. In the first place, the inside of the house was the same as ever, not a single bag packed up!"
