mission report for melonpaan (part 1 of 5)
Title: A Promise to Return
Groups/Pairings: Kanjiya Shihori/Aiba Masaki with side Horikita Maki/Ninomiya Kazunari and Kiritani Mirei/Matsumoto Jun.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Main character's grandparents pass away during the course of the story, but otherwise no major warnings apply.
Summary: She knew that her parents found her odd, had been concerned about her for years now. Perhaps they thought something terrible had happened to her that day in the woods, the day they believed she'd made up everything about what she'd seen. Something had happened, of course, but it wasn't what they thought.
Notes: Hello melonpaan! I was really excited by your prompts for fantasy, haunting forests, and dilapidated cityscapes. I hope that the concept of haikyo, or ruins/exploration of abandoned places will fit the bill. Matsuo Village in this story is inspired by a real place, though I've done my own thing with it. And thank you for asking for some ladies because I'd say they ended up dominating this story more than the boys. Who run the world? GIRLS! Thank you to R for catching my typos!
It was always an entire day's drive to her grandparents' house. They went once or twice a year whenever Shihori had a break from school that coincided with vacation time for her father. They left their average house in average Arakawa, left the hot Tokyo summer for the long drive north.
Her mother had been born there, way up in Iwate, a place Shihori liked to point out on the map of Japan in the classroom. "My mama's from here," she said proudly. "And my grandma and grandpa are still there." Nobody else in Shihori's class had relatives who lived anywhere so remote. The drive took them through mountains, the distance between cities increasing as the family's Toyota moved along the highway. It was green, so lush and so green. Trees and hills and mountains, a Japan her classmates rarely saw the way she got to.
They left Tokyo during the morning rush and they'd usually make it to the last major city, Morioka, by mid-afternoon. Then it was another hour, passing smaller towns and farms, before they made it to Grandma's. Unlike their average house in average Arakawa, Shihori's grandparents lived in a large, old-fashioned home, nestled snugly in a grove of tall cedar trees at the end of a dirt road. It had squeaky wooden corridors that Shihori helped Grandma scrub, a kitchen without appliances, and a pond full of algae that Grandpa stubbornly refused to clean. It was freezing cold in winter, her mother always explained. "That's why we come in summer."
"That's why your mother left," her father always explained out of her mother's earshot. "She'd live in Hawaii if she could."
But the trip north was different this time, a month before Shihori's tenth birthday. They weren't coming in summer. It was late fall, not so very cold in average Arakawa, but Shihori's mom bundled her up in a warm jacket. This time it wasn't so green, but full of burning reds and oranges as the fingers of autumn color crept north across Japan.
This time Shihori wasn't coming to run around with Grandpa and the dog. She wasn't coming north to scrub the floors until Grandma's back hurt and they called it a day. This time her father kept the radio tuned to the news station for most of the trip instead of playing the CD Shihori had chosen from her favorite pop group. This time her mother's face was sad as she gazed out the window toward Mount Iwate when the Toyota pulled off the highway.
Grandpa had been employed in a sulfur mine. It had bent him over, given him a cough, but it had never made him sick until now. Her father held her hand as the family gathered their duffel bags, made their way into the house. It didn't smell right when she crossed the threshold, slipped out of her shoes. Grandma always made food to welcome them, but the house wasn't open and sunny, the dog wasn't barking. There were cobwebs in the corners and shadows in the unlit corridors. It was like Grandpa being sick had made the old house sick too.
Shihori was settled in one of the rooms with her cousin, Maki. Maki's dad and her mother were siblings, but Maki lived way south near Fukuoka, and they rarely saw each other. Besides, Maki was only seven and she still liked little kid shows and playing with dolls. They had nothing in common but their straight, boring black hair and a mutual fondness for Grandpa's dog, Panda, so named for his rough black and white mutt fur.
Grandma didn't leave Grandpa's side, the two of them tucked into their room at the back of the house with their children. For now, her father and Aunt Marina, Maki's mom, kept them busy. As the light in the cousins' shared room buzzed overhead, the adults taught Maki how to play Old Maid and Shihori played along with indifference, wanting to see Grandpa and beg him to get better so they could take Panda out.
Aunt Marina left to make dinner, and Shihori was recruited to help chop vegetables. Her aunt was usually calm and collected, but Grandma's unfamiliar kitchen set-up was making her temperamental. None of Shihori's chopping was good enough, and she was finally dismissed, stuck playing Old Maid with her father and Maki until dinner time.
It was a strange dinner, everyone sitting around the table in Grandma's dining room, the table barely cleared off. There were stacks of unopened mail and magazines. She heard her parents mumbling to one another about Grandma, something that wasn't for Shihori to hear. As the family minus grandparents ate their meal, Shihori could hear Grandpa's cough. Eventually her father turned on the tiny little TV set in the corner of the room, the one that got such bad reception that only TV Asahi came in with any regularity. The coughing went on for what seemed like way too long, and Shihori poked at her meal unhappily. At her side, Maki mostly ignored her dinner, brushing her ugly little doll's hair so hard that dark strands were tearing from its head.
The girls were put to bed early, lying side by side in their futons in the dark. Shihori thought it was unfair that she had to go to bed at a little kid time, especially when she heard her cousin cry a bit in her sleep.
She woke in the middle of the night needing to pee, and she tossed off her duvet cover, padding to the dark old toilet in the back of the house. She had always hated the little room, the creaky sound of the fan that turned on as soon as she shut the door. When she came out, yanking the chain to shut off the light bulb inside, she nearly gasped.
Grandpa was there, standing in the hall in his pajamas. It was dark but somehow she knew it was him, knew it was his hunched-over shape. "Shii-chan," he whispered. "Don't go into the forest. You'll only regret it in the end."
She wanted to say something, wanted to say anything, but she was still half asleep and half annoyed from having to use the creepy toilet room. She only nodded and headed back to bed. It was only when she got back into her futon that she realized how odd Grandpa's message had been, how odd it was that he'd been in the hallway waiting for her. But sleep came for her before she could give it any more thought.
--
When she woke again, Grandpa had passed away in his sleep, and her mother's sobs were sounding throughout the house. The town doctor had come before Shihori woke along with Grandma's friend, whose husband owned the funeral home in town.
Maki was crying in her mother's arms, and Shihori's father was sitting with the TV on low, unsure of what to do. Shihori felt Grandpa's loss like someone had punched her in the stomach, sitting down and leaning against her father as the ache grew and grew. But she didn't cry. She couldn't cry. All she could think about was Grandpa's voice in the hallway, the strange things he'd said.
"Grandpa was up last night. I got up to use the bathroom," she said quietly, feeling her father's strong arm around her even though it did nothing to warm her.
Her father sounded confused. "You were probably having a dream, Shii. Grandpa never left his bed for the last few weeks. I'm very sorry."
She didn't leave her father's embrace, staring at the pictures and colors of the TV without really seeing them. But it had been Grandpa in the hall, Grandpa telling her not to go into the forest. He'd been alive. He'd wanted to tell her something. But now he was dead. She hadn't even bothered to ask him why. She'd simply been an idiot, walking back to bed and ignoring him.
There were arrangements to be made, and the adults busied themselves with everything. Grandma sat in her room, and Maki and Panda kept her company. Shihori was mostly left alone to wonder just what had happened. She had to get out of the house. Telling her mother that she was going to the pond, she laced up her sneakers and went out, not bothering to grab her coat.
She stared at the green mush coating the pond, at a stray duck who was in residence in the scummy water. Her father said it was impossible, but Shihori knew what she'd seen. The house was full of death, full of sad feelings behind her. The trees in front of her were tall and strong, the forest she and Grandpa had walked through so many times with Panda. It had only been months ago, this past summer, when they'd gone to look for mushrooms. The forest had been full of mosquitoes and other creepy bugs, but otherwise it never posed much danger. Why had Grandpa warned her?
There wasn't a path, Grandpa had just always known which way was best. Tears hit her then when she made it to the edge of the trees, not knowing the way to go. Grandpa had said not to go. Maybe he'd just meant not to go without him, to wait until he was better. But now Grandpa was gone. The Grandpa-shaped part of her heart had been ripped out, taken from her. Grandma would be up here in Iwate by herself, swallowed up in the house beyond the cedars.
In her heart, Shihori knew that she should go back in the house, should help in whatever way she could. She was nine now, and she had to be a bit more grown up. More mature. She'd always been obedient, never caused trouble. But a gust of wind swept through the cedars, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Grandpa was gone, and she wouldn't get to walk here with him again.
She could feel the tracks of her tears drying on her face as she took her first steps in, moving up and over some branches. She felt compelled to move forward, to keep moving. It was different in the autumn. The colors were different, the air was colder. There were dark black birds somewhere, calling to each other. She wanted to call to them too, ask them what they knew.
Without her jacket she was cold in minutes. Her grandparents' house was higher up in the hills, and the trips she'd always taken with Grandpa kept them on steady ground. But as Shihori walked, trying to avoid low-hanging branches and fallen tree trunks, she noticed that the path was angling downward, her sneakers squelching in mud and tromping grass.
She was lost now, too far gone to call for help. Her parents would be furious. Didn't they have enough to worry about? And here was their daughter, lost in the woods. It made her cry more, and she stumbled along, the drops coming at sharper angles now, propelling her down.
Shihori didn't know if she'd been in the woods for an hour or for ten when she came to a clearing, shivering with cold. It was then that she found the village.
--
The tree-line stopped and the hill dipped down low, revealing a grassy valley and another set of hills just beyond. It seemed an odd place for a town, especially one so sizeable. She couldn't hear any cars, any normal city sounds like they had in average Arakawa or even Morioka. But a city was a city, wasn't it? Concrete buildings rose up like dull gray giants on several of the hills. Apartment buildings, just like those in Arakawa, with balconies and clotheslines.
She wasn't lost, not completely now, she decided, wiping at her eyes. Someone in town would know how to get her back to Grandma's. She knew she was filthy, some of the forest mud having splashed up onto her jeans, and her hair was full of tangles. She shivered as she hurried down the hill and away from the forest.
It was still odd to not see any cars, but maybe the town had banned them. There were parts of Tokyo that were closed off to traffic during the day so people could shop. Maybe it was the same here. Eventually a path appeared on the hill, a cracked bit of pavement that was full of potholes. No wonder nobody was driving.
Her shins hurt as she moved up the hill, sneakers smacking the pavement. She could finally hear signs of life. There were women on the apartment balconies, taking in clothes. The sky was gray, and maybe it would rain. There were kids running around in the apartment courtyards. Beyond the concrete apartments that seemed to ring the entire town, she finally saw a normal enough street.
A small grocery store, a police box, a few other stores. There weren't many customers. Aside from the people she'd seen upon coming into town, it seemed there weren't even enough people to live in all those buildings. She decided that her best bet was to speak to a police officer. It was what she'd learned in school, and even though her parents would punish her for running off so recklessly, they'd feel better knowing she regretted her mistake and went straight to the police for help.
But as soon as she left the sidewalk to cross the crumbled road to the police box, she had the wind knocked out of her, tumbling to the ground and feeling a sudden shock of pain as she skinned her knee even through her denim.
"Hey, look where you're going!" came the squeaky, scratchy sound of a boy's voice. Their eyes met, and Shihori wanted to kick him. He was the one who'd run into her!
The boy was a few years older, probably in junior high. He had messy black hair, long and skinny arms and legs, and dark, squinting eyes. He suddenly looked embarrassed when he realized what he'd done. "Oh, a girl," he mumbled to himself, scrambling to his feet. "Sorry."
"What the hell, you're running into girls now?" came the sound of another boy's voice, skidding to a halt and giving the first boy a shove. Shihori could only sit there, trying not to cry in front of these strangers. The second boy was shorter than his friend, with shorter hair and a mole on his chin. "Wait a minute..."
The boys exchanged a look, and finally Shihori couldn't take it any longer. "That hurt!" she squealed, hands turning to fists.
The second boy ran off to the police box, and the first boy, the idiot boy, held out his hand. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, honest. I was in a hurry..."
She took his hand because she had little other choice, looking down at the state of herself. Covered in mud, jeans torn at the knee, and she knew she'd probably scraped it. She bit her lip. "I want to go home," she said, feeling like a kid. She probably sounded like Maki, like a baby.
"Nino's going to get Katori-san. He's the policeman, so..."
She stood there, balancing her weight on her good leg. She was in so much trouble. It only took the sight of the first boy's friend, the Nino kid, coming over with a man in a blue police uniform for the tears to escape, and she burst into tears in the middle of this half-empty town in the middle of nowhere.
"Ah, don't cry!" the first boy said, looking horrified. He must have thought she was crying because he'd knocked her down.
"Aiba-kun, Ninomiya-kun, let's get her inside, okay?" came the policeman's voice.
Shihori could only let them lead her across the street and into the small police station, Officer Katori letting her hold on to this arm. He was tall and strong with a smiling face, and she just sensed that she could trust him unlike the two stupid boys who ran around like a bunch of jerks.
But they still hovered as Officer Katori settled her in a hard wooden chair next to his desk. It was a messy office, with stacks of manila folders everywhere. Ninomiya-kun, the short boy who apparently went by Nino, moved to a sink in the rear of the office and put some water in a cup for her. The current bane of her existence, this Aiba-kun, stood there and fidgeted, staring at her rudely.
She sipped the water and let Officer Katori roll up her pant leg, and he diligently cleaned up her knee and put on a bandage for her. When she was all set there, his smiling face grew a bit more grave. He dismissed the two boys from the office, although Shihori could still hear them whispering to each other outside.
"Can you tell me your name?" Officer Katori asked, still kneeling before her.
"Kanjiya Shihori, from Arakawa, Tokyo. I'm nine years old but I'll be ten soon and my mother is Natsuko and my father is Atsushi and..."
Officer Katori chuckled. "Slow down, Shihori-chan, it's okay. You're not in trouble with me. I just want to help you." He pulled out a pen from the pocket of his uniform jacket and took a pad of paper from the desk. "You're from Tokyo? How'd you get up here?"
He was being so nice and trying to help and she could still hear those boys outside being noisy. The craziness of her entire day, with the loss of Grandpa and running away and her parents being worried...it all came to a head and she started crying again. Officer Katori panicked, finding a handkerchief for her and staying by her side as she told him everything. Why she was in Iwate, getting lost in the forest, finding the village, getting knocked down by that stupid Aiba-kun. She cried and cried, like she'd wanted to for Grandpa that morning.
"Well, it's very fortunate that you came here today," Officer Katori said. "Out of all the days in the year, I'm so glad you came today."
She wasn't sure what he was saying or why, but it felt comforting in a sense. She simply nodded, blowing her nose.
"I'm very sorry about your grandfather. You say he lived in Hachimantai?" Officer Katori said, scratching his head.
"At the end of a dirt road. I...I don't know the name of the road, but they don't live right in town. It's a big house with a pond. That's where my parents are. I'm a Kanjiya and so is my dad, but my mom is a Horikita, if that helps? My grandpa was Horikita Taiyo."
That made Officer Katori's eyes widen. Did he know her family? She didn't have a chance to ask because he was getting to his feet. "Aiba-kun!" Officer Katori shouted. "I know you're still out there!"
The boy poked his head around the doorframe, frowning. "Yes sir?"
"As a way of apologizing to Kanjiya-san for being such a clumsy oaf, you'll be escorting her home."
"What? Why me?" Aiba protested, but Katori's face remained stern.
"Kanjiya-san's grandfather passed away this morning, Horikita Taiyo-san. You know where that house is?"
Aiba-kun paled, and Shihori was all the more confused. Did everyone in this strange little town know her grandfather? How come he had never mentioned this place, not even once during all their walks in the woods?
"Yes, Officer Katori. I know where it is."
Katori glanced up at the clock, and Shihori nearly went into a panic. It was already 5:00 PM and the sun was setting. "Aiba-kun, please mind the curfew."
"Come on," Aiba said abruptly, grabbing her hand and taking a flashlight off of Katori's desk. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"Gentler," Katori chastised him, standing in the doorway as Aiba roughly pulled her out of the police box. "You know how to get back. Be nice to her."
Ninomiya-kun only stared at her as Aiba walked her back through the center of town. With the darkness had come fog, most of the streets already shrouded in the mist. The streets looked even emptier than they had when she arrived. But this Aiba knew exactly where he was going, pulling her along even as she limped and complained.
Aiba-kun's hand was sweaty and gross, and she pulled away from him, following at her own pace. "I fell because of you, you know," she said as they wandered back the way she'd come in search of help. She wished that Officer Katori was the one taking her back. How come he didn't have a police car? Or even a bike to bring her home?
"Yeah well I said I was sorry," Aiba muttered. He kept looking around, growing more nervous the closer they came to the edge of town.
Soon she'd be home, hopefully, if this Aiba-kun had any sense of direction. Then she'd never have to see his stupid face again. "What's the name of this town anyway?" she asked.
"Matsuo Village," he said. "Hurry up, it's dark and the woods aren't safe."
"And you can just run back home in the dark? Can you see in the dark or something?"
He wiggled the flashlight as a reminder. "Ugh, you're the one who's lost, not me, Shihori-chan."
"Don't call me that," she protested, knee still aching as they moved into the valley and back in the direction of the cedar trees. "We're not friends and I don't know you."
"You're just lucky your Grandpa..."
Shihori stopped, nearly stumbling over a branch at the entrance to the forest. "How did you know him?"
Aiba looked embarrassed, as though he'd said something he shouldn't. "Look, seriously. I have to take you home. You can't stay in Matsuo Village."
She walked after him, following the beam of the flashlight as he turned it on and navigated them through the forest. "I wouldn't stay there anyway."
"Well good."
"Good."
Ugh, he was the most annoying person she'd ever met. She thought of Officer Katori's gentle smile, even that Ninomiya boy would be a better companion than Aiba-kun. The two of them stayed quiet, Aiba slowing his pace a bit so she could keep up and not lose him. But he was the type of boy who wouldn't shut up for long. Shihori had a few boys like that in her class at school, always getting in trouble for talking out of turn.
"How old are you?" he asked her.
"Nine."
"I'm twelve," he said proudly, as though he was better than her just for being older. "I play baseball, what do you like to do?"
"Read manga."
He nodded. "I haven't read any in a while. We don't have anything new to read..."
"So why not buy some more?"
Aiba's foot snapped a twig in two noisily. "You wouldn't believe me."
"Are you a liar? Is that why?"
He laughed, this high-pitched kind of snort that annoyed her immediately. "I don't lie. My mom raised me better than that. It's just that it's not easy for Matsuo Village to get anything new."
"Probably because you don't have any cars," Shihori reasoned.
Aiba laughed. "Yeah, that's definitely part of it."
They quieted down again. Shihori had no idea where they were going, but Aiba-kun didn't hesitate once, navigating them through the forest easily. It was getting harder to walk after the long day, and she knew she was going to be sick. She still had no jacket. Aiba's jacket looked a little small on him, like he'd been wearing it a few years too many.
"Are we getting close?"
"Maybe another half an hour. You sure walked far on your own," Aiba admitted. He kicked at some leaves. "Look, I am sorry about your Grandpa. Really. He was a good friend to our village."
Then how come she'd never heard about Matsuo Village before? Shihori could only think of Grandpa's warning the night before. Not to go into the forest. She'd gone ahead and done just the opposite, finding the strangely empty city arrayed on those hills. There'd been more buildings than people to fill them. It was an odd place, Aiba's hometown.
"Thank you," she said in reply, feeling her eyes fill with tears again. She only saw her Grandpa a few times a year, had spoken with him on the phone. There was so much about his life up here that was a mystery. It was odd to think of Grandpa walking all the way to Matsuo Village with his bad back, Panda at his side. "He was a nice man."
"The nicest," Aiba said quietly. "He brought us things. He was a good help. My mom always said so."
And now he was gone. She couldn't stop crying, sniffling from her tears and from the cold. Aiba walked even slower, the beam of his flashlight quivering a bit as they kept walking. Maybe he was crying too.
"Maybe you should come for the funeral. It'll be in a few days, I think," she said. "If you or your friends knew my Grandpa."
"Ah, that's impossible." Aiba sounded truly sad. "That's impossible for us, I'm sorry."
"Why? I don't think my Grandma would mind. Since you helped me..."
Aiba stopped walking, leaning back against a tree. She couldn't see his face since he kept the flashlight pointed at the ground. "Shihori-chan, Matsuo Village isn't like wherever you come from. It's impossible, okay? I'm really sorry."
She didn't bother to correct him for being overly familiar this time. "But you'd only have to walk, the same as we're walking now!"
Aiba sighed. "I'm sure your parents are worried. Let me just bring you home."
The boy offered no other explanation. He was totally weird, and she scowled the rest of the way back. They climbed back up the hill, and Aiba had to hold her hand and pull her along. They finally reached the clearing, and Shihori could see flashing lights. Police cars.
"I bet you're in a ton of trouble," Aiba said, staying back as she moved to approach the edge of the woods.
"Well, why don't you come and tell them what happened? You're a witness, like on TV!"
He stayed where he was. "I've brought you home, just like Officer Katori told me to. But I have to get back."
She stomped her feet, and a shot of pain from her knee coursed through her. "You're a real jerk, okay!"
"And you're kind of a brat," he shot back, though he said it with that annoying laughing voice of his.
"I'm going!" she said.
"Then go!"
"I will!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!" she snapped at him. She turned up her nose at him, turning around and heading for the clearing. When she looked over her shoulder, Aiba-kun was already gone.
--
There was a flurry of activity upon her return. The Hachimantai police had been searching the woods for her all day, and her mother collapsed on the ground as soon as she saw her, sitting in an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her.
It had been a terrible day for her family, and she'd ruined everything by running away. But when she tried to explain where she'd gone, that she'd found Matsuo Village, that Officer Katori had helped her and that the boy, Aiba-kun, had escorted her back, everyone stared at her a little oddly. Her mother merely kept an arm around her, stroking her hair while her father looked on, smoking a cigarette. The police jotted down what she told them, but they looked at her like she'd said something wrong.
She was ushered into the house, and Aunt Marina had made stew that Shihori devoured quickly. Now that the police were gone, she got the scolding of a lifetime from her father. Grounded indefinitely, and no new CDs. And she couldn't go to the handshake event for her favorite singing group, even though she and a school friend had bought the tickets already. They scolded her for worrying Grandma on the worst possible day, for being selfish and running away, and then for turning up and lying about it.
But she hadn't lied. She hadn't lied about seeing Grandpa the night before, but her father hadn't believed her. She'd told everything she'd seen that day, every single thing down to the mole on Ninomiya-kun's chin. Her parents exchanged worried looks. They sent her to bed, and Maki kept her up asking stupid questions about where she'd gone and if she'd tried to go back to Tokyo on an airplane. Dumb kid questions like always.
When she woke in the morning, she finally saw Grandma, who was sitting in her empty room, the room that still smelled like Grandpa. She was staring out the window, stroking Panda's head, the dog leaning against her looking just as sad as Shihori felt.
She sat at her Grandma's side, trying not to cry. She'd done enough of that. She bowed her head low, apologizing for being such a terrible grandchild.
"They told me about your stories," Grandma said, not meeting her eyes.
"They aren't stories. They're true."
"Matsuo," Grandma said quietly. She had none of her usual humor, none of her endless smiles. "Taiyo told me stories about Matsuo."
She scooted closer. Did Grandma believe her? Nobody believed her, but maybe Grandma did! "I was there, Grandma. It's a whole city with buildings and a police station and..."
Finally Grandma looked over at her. "You have your grandfather's imagination, Shii-chan." She smiled, eyes watering. "But your mama never believed his stories. Maybe it's best you forgot, hmm?"
She looked down. Grandma didn't believe her after all. She wanted to tell Grandma about seeing Grandpa in the hallway, about his last words to her. But if Grandma didn't believe her, who would?
The next days passed in a flash with the funeral and the other friends and family who found their way to the big house in the forest clearing. Shihori's incident was kept quiet, and her parents forbid her to speak of it. She stood out on the porch of the house, standing in the chill, looking to the woods. For Aiba-kun, for Officer Katori.
They never came, and Shihori got back in the car when it was over. She returned to average Arakawa and her average house, and her afternoon in Matsuo Village faded like the fog that swallowed the town whole.
--
Her mother traveled north often to look in on Grandma, who refused to leave the house in the woods and move south closer to the family. Shihori was conveniently left home every time, as though she was liable to run away again and make up stories.
Her memories grew hazy as she got lost in schoolwork, in fun times with her friends. A year passed and Grandpa's death anniversary arrived. Her mother went north for that and Shihori's uncle too, but Shihori stayed home with her father to make sure he didn't burn the kitchen down. All she got to do was speak with Grandma on the phone, tell her about school and the manga she was reading. Shihori prayed at the small altar in their house instead, the small photo of Grandpa they kept there.
In that fashion another year passed. Then another. It was Grandpa's third death anniversary when the family reunited again at the old house. Shihori's uncle and aunt arrived the same day, Maki in tow. Shihori was twelve and her cousin ten, and she was happy to discover that Maki had grown up a bit. She was still a bit shy where Shihori had grown up a bit bossy, but Maki finally left the dolls at home. They spent the first afternoon sitting out by the pond, filthy as ever, with Panda.
They talked about boys a bit, though Maki was pretty convinced most of them were gross. Shihori, however, had started to change her mind recently. Next year she'd be in junior high school. Maybe she'd find her first boyfriend.
The next day was the anniversary, and Shihori remembered how terribly she'd worried the family. For the first time in a long time, she found herself thinking about Matsuo Village, about the odd experience she'd had there. There'd been a policeman. He'd bandaged her knee...she'd never shown her parents. That would have been all the proof she needed, the proof that Matsuo Village was real.
She frowned, pulling on her jacket and stepping outside. She crossed her arms, staring out at the woods, the blood red leaves rustling in the wind. It was an unspoken rule that Shihori was forbidden to enter the woods there again. But soon Maki was outside too, standing at her side like a shadow.
"My mom said you made it all up. Because you were sad about Grandpa," Maki said. "Don't tell her I told you, she'd be embarrassed."
Shihori scowled, crossing her arms tighter. Her cousin could be stupidly straightforward sometimes. "Well I didn't make it up, okay? They knew Grandpa."
Maki pursed her lips. "Prove it."
Shihori turned, seeing mischief in her cousin's eyes for the very first time. She knew Uncle Taku and Aunt Marina were stricter than her own parents. Maki's total weirdness certainly came from that, she thought. But there was no way the two of them could go into the woods, not a chance. She told Maki as much.
"But we can take the bikes from the storage shed and go to town. Your dad said that was okay during breakfast this morning. Then we just come back and go find your made-up village instead."
Shihori smiled at her cousin. There was an interesting girl in there somewhere, hidden under the blunt black fringe and behind that button nose. Sometimes Shihori went to a manga cafe with her friends after school, telling her mom that she'd actually been at the library. This wouldn't be so different. And besides, she wouldn't be alone this time. She'd be with Maki.
She held out her pinky. "I, Kanjiya Shihori, do solemnly swear that Matsuo Village is real. And when I prove to you that it is, you will buy me a manga volume of my choice, even if it takes your whole allowance."
Maki grinned, seeming thrilled to be involved in something naughty for once. The cousins really were better behaved than most, Shihori thought. She shook Shihori's pinky with her own. "And I, Horikita Maki, think you're a grade A fibber, and when there's no town at all you have to treat me to karaoke. Even if it takes your whole allowance."
Shihori nodded. They had an alliance.
--
While Maki charmed their parents into letting the girls head into town, Shihori knelt in front of the altar in the living room. Grandpa's smiling face looked back at her, three years gone. "Matsuo Village is real," she whispered to the portrait. "I'm taking Maki-chan, and even if nobody else believes, we will. I wish you could come with us."
Maki found her, shaking the keys to the storage shed. "We have to be back before sundown, or your dad's driving into town shouting our names from the car. That would be so embarrassing."
It really would be, imagining her calm, mild-mannered father hollering in the street for her. Well, it would be quicker this time. She was older, and she probably had a better sense of direction. Just follow the hill down.
The girls pulled the bikes out of the shed, adjusting the seats. They were old bicycles with rather uncomfortable seats, and they'd belonged to their parents. Shihori's mother was taller, even when she was younger, and Shihori had to shift the seat down to accommodate her shortness. Maki rang the tiny little bell on the bike. "Karaoke, Shii-chan. I'm gonna win."
"I'm gonna smack your face," she threatened in return, though she'd never actually do it. She just wanted to see the look in Maki's eyes when she first saw the concrete buildings appear out of the fog. But she had to get them there first.
With Maki's father standing guard on the porch, they obediently pedaled down the dirt road, disappearing around the corner as though they were truly planning to head into town. They went half a mile down before Maki turned off the path, biking over the bumpy grass toward the cedar trees that lined the road back toward the house.
"Which way? Which way, Shii-chan?"
They rode along the tree-line, dodging rocks as best they could before ditching the bikes at the edge of the forest. It was mid-morning, so they had plenty of time. They'd get back to the bikes, hurry to town and buy something, and then go back to the house with their parents none the wiser.
The distance seemed shorter this time. It was like Shihori was being drawn forward, as if her body knew the right way to go even though it had been three years, pulling her down along with the slope of the land. She supposed that since she wasn't so upset it was easier to make her way there this time. She'd been in a daze the first time.
Maki complained a bit as some mud spattered against her red pants, but Shihori kept walking. Victory was surely in her grasp. It was maybe a good twenty or thirty minutes before they reached the point where the woods gave way, and she heard Maki's gasp when they emerged.
It was even foggier than it had been three years ago but there was no mistaking the buildings perched on the hill, the gray winding snake of a road peeking out from the center of town. They stood together watching, and Maki was so stunned that she wrapped her arm around a tree, clinging to it in shock.
Shihori settled her hands on her hips. "See, I'm not a liar. It's a whole town, you know."
"I'm sorry, Shii-chan, for not believing."
"And it'll only cost you the price of the newest One Piece. I'll be nice and ask for something easy."
Maki only nodded, squinting out across the valley. "Kind of a scary place, don't you think? And you went all the way into town?"
"Dare you to come with me."
Her cousin hesitated. "Maybe we should go back. I believe you, isn't that enough?"
But Shihori shook her head. It had been three years, and nothing had changed. They hadn't even fixed the street. And Shihori had a nagging desire to visit no matter what. She'd never gotten to properly thank Officer Katori for his help. The man had helped her that day, and all she'd done was get snot all over his handkerchief like a big baby.
"The people there are nice," she said, trying to sound encouraging. So long as they didn't run into that stupid boy, Aiba-kun.
But then Maki gasped, rustling some leaves as she suddenly jolted. Shihori watched her cousin point, out across the valley. They'd been so caught up in the sight of the fog shrouding the hills that they hadn't even thought to look down.
There in the valley, just where the old road stopped, was a makeshift baseball diamond. Shihori could only tell that's what it was because of the placement of people. There was someone up to bat, and as she squinted, she could see other people placed where the bases, pitcher's mound, and outfield were supposed to be. She was struck with the memory of Aiba-kun, much as she could happily go the rest of her life without seeing him. He'd mentioned that he'd liked baseball that day.
She turned to give her cousin a shake. "Let's go check it out. We can cheer them on."
"But we don't even know them," Maki said, frowning. "I believe you, I said I did. But they're strangers, and I'm not brave like you."
Shihori was undeterred. Maybe Officer Katori was down there, or at the very least the people could tell her where he was. It was foolish to come all this way and not see what was going on in Matsuo Village. She set off, hearing Maki grumble in protest. She could follow or not.
As they drew closer, she could see that the assembled baseball team was made up of people of all ages. Some people her parents' age, others teenagers a few years older than her. When she drew close, enough to see the pitcher tilt up his cap and stare at her, she realized that there were familiar faces in the crowd.
The game ground to a screeching halt, and the pitcher dropped his glove and the ball, running from the mound in her direction. Well, maybe this had been a bad idea, Shihori thought, glancing back to see that Maki had followed her, but slowly, and was several feet back looking shy.
The other players huddled together, the two middle-aged men and teenage girl in the outfield running over to join the infielders. The catcher got out of his crouch, lifting his mask and jogging up behind the pitcher.
"I don't believe it!" the pitcher said, and as soon as she saw him up close, she kind of wanted to turn back. It was Aiba-kun, older and taller than before and just as lanky. His baseball uniform was nothing more than a ratty pair of jeans and a very old looking Hanshin Tigers t-shirt. It was chilly for November, but he was sweating like crazy. The first thought Shihori had was that he'd kind of gotten cuter, but then she shoved that thought away, reminding herself of how he'd not come for her Grandpa's funeral and had made such lame excuses.
The catcher was about Aiba-kun's age, but Shihori didn't recognize him from her previous visit. He was of a height with Aiba, with thick, unruly eyebrows and a crooked smile. "Who's this?" he asked. "Masaki, you know her?"
Apparently Masaki was Aiba's first name. "She's the girl," Aiba said. "The girl from three years ago. And here she is again, on the exact same day."
She could hear her cousin approaching, could sense Maki trying to sneak up close but still hide behind her. Shihori crossed her arms. "I'm not 'the girl,' you know, I have a name."
Aiba nodded, leaning back and grinning. He was still kind of a jerk, even if he'd gotten cute. "Oh of course. Where are my manners? Jun-kun, this is Shihori-sama, Matsuo Village's girl of legend." Aiba leaned close, smirking. "You didn't get much taller in three years."
She felt herself go red at his teasing. "Look, this is my cousin Maki. She didn't believe me that Matsuo Village is real. So I wanted to prove it to her."
"Send them home," came a third voice. The boy who'd been up to bat walked over. It took a bit of rude staring until she saw the telltale mole on his chin. Ninomiya-kun. Nino, her memory corrected.
A chilly wind swept down from the village, howling through the breaks between the buildings. It came rushing down into the valley, making Shihori's hair fly wildly. She felt Maki's arm slide through hers, holding on. "I wanted to see Officer Katori," she explained, tugging some strands of hair out of her mouth. "That's all, I just wanted to say thank you for last time. I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back."
The three boys exchanged a look. It seemed to be a Matsuo Village trait. One of the women who'd been playing, the shortstop who seemed close in age to Shihori's mother, walked over. Unlike the three annoying teenagers, she had an air of authority to her. "Who are these young ladies?" the woman asked pointedly, looking at Shihori like she had two heads.
Aiba took over the introductions while the catcher boy, Jun, looked off towards the woods they'd come from. Nino, however, looked just as serious as the woman. "This is Shihori," Aiba explained. "And her cousin. She's the girl who was here three years ago. Officer Katori talked to her."
The woman's eyes widened in understanding. Of what, Shihori didn't know. But was she really that infamous around town here? The girl who was here three years ago - as though nobody else had been around since. What was with this place?
"Taiyo-san's granddaughters then," the woman said with a nod. "Taiyo-san's family will always be welcome in Matsuo Village, I can't deny them hospitality."
"We don't want to be a bother," Maki interrupted, her voice quiet and shy. She gave a tug on Shihori's arm, as though to pull her back to the woods. "We're sorry for ruining your game."
"We're just not used to outsiders," Jun said, though Nino elbowed him for saying so. Jun scowled at him. "What, it's the truth!"
The woman hushed the boys with a mere look. She turned to Shihori. "Taiyo-san never spoke to you of this place, did he?"
She shook her head.
"I see," the woman said. "Please join us for lunch since you've come all this way."
Part Two
Groups/Pairings: Kanjiya Shihori/Aiba Masaki with side Horikita Maki/Ninomiya Kazunari and Kiritani Mirei/Matsumoto Jun.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Main character's grandparents pass away during the course of the story, but otherwise no major warnings apply.
Summary: She knew that her parents found her odd, had been concerned about her for years now. Perhaps they thought something terrible had happened to her that day in the woods, the day they believed she'd made up everything about what she'd seen. Something had happened, of course, but it wasn't what they thought.
Notes: Hello melonpaan! I was really excited by your prompts for fantasy, haunting forests, and dilapidated cityscapes. I hope that the concept of haikyo, or ruins/exploration of abandoned places will fit the bill. Matsuo Village in this story is inspired by a real place, though I've done my own thing with it. And thank you for asking for some ladies because I'd say they ended up dominating this story more than the boys. Who run the world? GIRLS! Thank you to R for catching my typos!
It was always an entire day's drive to her grandparents' house. They went once or twice a year whenever Shihori had a break from school that coincided with vacation time for her father. They left their average house in average Arakawa, left the hot Tokyo summer for the long drive north.
Her mother had been born there, way up in Iwate, a place Shihori liked to point out on the map of Japan in the classroom. "My mama's from here," she said proudly. "And my grandma and grandpa are still there." Nobody else in Shihori's class had relatives who lived anywhere so remote. The drive took them through mountains, the distance between cities increasing as the family's Toyota moved along the highway. It was green, so lush and so green. Trees and hills and mountains, a Japan her classmates rarely saw the way she got to.
They left Tokyo during the morning rush and they'd usually make it to the last major city, Morioka, by mid-afternoon. Then it was another hour, passing smaller towns and farms, before they made it to Grandma's. Unlike their average house in average Arakawa, Shihori's grandparents lived in a large, old-fashioned home, nestled snugly in a grove of tall cedar trees at the end of a dirt road. It had squeaky wooden corridors that Shihori helped Grandma scrub, a kitchen without appliances, and a pond full of algae that Grandpa stubbornly refused to clean. It was freezing cold in winter, her mother always explained. "That's why we come in summer."
"That's why your mother left," her father always explained out of her mother's earshot. "She'd live in Hawaii if she could."
But the trip north was different this time, a month before Shihori's tenth birthday. They weren't coming in summer. It was late fall, not so very cold in average Arakawa, but Shihori's mom bundled her up in a warm jacket. This time it wasn't so green, but full of burning reds and oranges as the fingers of autumn color crept north across Japan.
This time Shihori wasn't coming to run around with Grandpa and the dog. She wasn't coming north to scrub the floors until Grandma's back hurt and they called it a day. This time her father kept the radio tuned to the news station for most of the trip instead of playing the CD Shihori had chosen from her favorite pop group. This time her mother's face was sad as she gazed out the window toward Mount Iwate when the Toyota pulled off the highway.
Grandpa had been employed in a sulfur mine. It had bent him over, given him a cough, but it had never made him sick until now. Her father held her hand as the family gathered their duffel bags, made their way into the house. It didn't smell right when she crossed the threshold, slipped out of her shoes. Grandma always made food to welcome them, but the house wasn't open and sunny, the dog wasn't barking. There were cobwebs in the corners and shadows in the unlit corridors. It was like Grandpa being sick had made the old house sick too.
Shihori was settled in one of the rooms with her cousin, Maki. Maki's dad and her mother were siblings, but Maki lived way south near Fukuoka, and they rarely saw each other. Besides, Maki was only seven and she still liked little kid shows and playing with dolls. They had nothing in common but their straight, boring black hair and a mutual fondness for Grandpa's dog, Panda, so named for his rough black and white mutt fur.
Grandma didn't leave Grandpa's side, the two of them tucked into their room at the back of the house with their children. For now, her father and Aunt Marina, Maki's mom, kept them busy. As the light in the cousins' shared room buzzed overhead, the adults taught Maki how to play Old Maid and Shihori played along with indifference, wanting to see Grandpa and beg him to get better so they could take Panda out.
Aunt Marina left to make dinner, and Shihori was recruited to help chop vegetables. Her aunt was usually calm and collected, but Grandma's unfamiliar kitchen set-up was making her temperamental. None of Shihori's chopping was good enough, and she was finally dismissed, stuck playing Old Maid with her father and Maki until dinner time.
It was a strange dinner, everyone sitting around the table in Grandma's dining room, the table barely cleared off. There were stacks of unopened mail and magazines. She heard her parents mumbling to one another about Grandma, something that wasn't for Shihori to hear. As the family minus grandparents ate their meal, Shihori could hear Grandpa's cough. Eventually her father turned on the tiny little TV set in the corner of the room, the one that got such bad reception that only TV Asahi came in with any regularity. The coughing went on for what seemed like way too long, and Shihori poked at her meal unhappily. At her side, Maki mostly ignored her dinner, brushing her ugly little doll's hair so hard that dark strands were tearing from its head.
The girls were put to bed early, lying side by side in their futons in the dark. Shihori thought it was unfair that she had to go to bed at a little kid time, especially when she heard her cousin cry a bit in her sleep.
She woke in the middle of the night needing to pee, and she tossed off her duvet cover, padding to the dark old toilet in the back of the house. She had always hated the little room, the creaky sound of the fan that turned on as soon as she shut the door. When she came out, yanking the chain to shut off the light bulb inside, she nearly gasped.
Grandpa was there, standing in the hall in his pajamas. It was dark but somehow she knew it was him, knew it was his hunched-over shape. "Shii-chan," he whispered. "Don't go into the forest. You'll only regret it in the end."
She wanted to say something, wanted to say anything, but she was still half asleep and half annoyed from having to use the creepy toilet room. She only nodded and headed back to bed. It was only when she got back into her futon that she realized how odd Grandpa's message had been, how odd it was that he'd been in the hallway waiting for her. But sleep came for her before she could give it any more thought.
--
When she woke again, Grandpa had passed away in his sleep, and her mother's sobs were sounding throughout the house. The town doctor had come before Shihori woke along with Grandma's friend, whose husband owned the funeral home in town.
Maki was crying in her mother's arms, and Shihori's father was sitting with the TV on low, unsure of what to do. Shihori felt Grandpa's loss like someone had punched her in the stomach, sitting down and leaning against her father as the ache grew and grew. But she didn't cry. She couldn't cry. All she could think about was Grandpa's voice in the hallway, the strange things he'd said.
"Grandpa was up last night. I got up to use the bathroom," she said quietly, feeling her father's strong arm around her even though it did nothing to warm her.
Her father sounded confused. "You were probably having a dream, Shii. Grandpa never left his bed for the last few weeks. I'm very sorry."
She didn't leave her father's embrace, staring at the pictures and colors of the TV without really seeing them. But it had been Grandpa in the hall, Grandpa telling her not to go into the forest. He'd been alive. He'd wanted to tell her something. But now he was dead. She hadn't even bothered to ask him why. She'd simply been an idiot, walking back to bed and ignoring him.
There were arrangements to be made, and the adults busied themselves with everything. Grandma sat in her room, and Maki and Panda kept her company. Shihori was mostly left alone to wonder just what had happened. She had to get out of the house. Telling her mother that she was going to the pond, she laced up her sneakers and went out, not bothering to grab her coat.
She stared at the green mush coating the pond, at a stray duck who was in residence in the scummy water. Her father said it was impossible, but Shihori knew what she'd seen. The house was full of death, full of sad feelings behind her. The trees in front of her were tall and strong, the forest she and Grandpa had walked through so many times with Panda. It had only been months ago, this past summer, when they'd gone to look for mushrooms. The forest had been full of mosquitoes and other creepy bugs, but otherwise it never posed much danger. Why had Grandpa warned her?
There wasn't a path, Grandpa had just always known which way was best. Tears hit her then when she made it to the edge of the trees, not knowing the way to go. Grandpa had said not to go. Maybe he'd just meant not to go without him, to wait until he was better. But now Grandpa was gone. The Grandpa-shaped part of her heart had been ripped out, taken from her. Grandma would be up here in Iwate by herself, swallowed up in the house beyond the cedars.
In her heart, Shihori knew that she should go back in the house, should help in whatever way she could. She was nine now, and she had to be a bit more grown up. More mature. She'd always been obedient, never caused trouble. But a gust of wind swept through the cedars, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Grandpa was gone, and she wouldn't get to walk here with him again.
She could feel the tracks of her tears drying on her face as she took her first steps in, moving up and over some branches. She felt compelled to move forward, to keep moving. It was different in the autumn. The colors were different, the air was colder. There were dark black birds somewhere, calling to each other. She wanted to call to them too, ask them what they knew.
Without her jacket she was cold in minutes. Her grandparents' house was higher up in the hills, and the trips she'd always taken with Grandpa kept them on steady ground. But as Shihori walked, trying to avoid low-hanging branches and fallen tree trunks, she noticed that the path was angling downward, her sneakers squelching in mud and tromping grass.
She was lost now, too far gone to call for help. Her parents would be furious. Didn't they have enough to worry about? And here was their daughter, lost in the woods. It made her cry more, and she stumbled along, the drops coming at sharper angles now, propelling her down.
Shihori didn't know if she'd been in the woods for an hour or for ten when she came to a clearing, shivering with cold. It was then that she found the village.
--
The tree-line stopped and the hill dipped down low, revealing a grassy valley and another set of hills just beyond. It seemed an odd place for a town, especially one so sizeable. She couldn't hear any cars, any normal city sounds like they had in average Arakawa or even Morioka. But a city was a city, wasn't it? Concrete buildings rose up like dull gray giants on several of the hills. Apartment buildings, just like those in Arakawa, with balconies and clotheslines.
She wasn't lost, not completely now, she decided, wiping at her eyes. Someone in town would know how to get her back to Grandma's. She knew she was filthy, some of the forest mud having splashed up onto her jeans, and her hair was full of tangles. She shivered as she hurried down the hill and away from the forest.
It was still odd to not see any cars, but maybe the town had banned them. There were parts of Tokyo that were closed off to traffic during the day so people could shop. Maybe it was the same here. Eventually a path appeared on the hill, a cracked bit of pavement that was full of potholes. No wonder nobody was driving.
Her shins hurt as she moved up the hill, sneakers smacking the pavement. She could finally hear signs of life. There were women on the apartment balconies, taking in clothes. The sky was gray, and maybe it would rain. There were kids running around in the apartment courtyards. Beyond the concrete apartments that seemed to ring the entire town, she finally saw a normal enough street.
A small grocery store, a police box, a few other stores. There weren't many customers. Aside from the people she'd seen upon coming into town, it seemed there weren't even enough people to live in all those buildings. She decided that her best bet was to speak to a police officer. It was what she'd learned in school, and even though her parents would punish her for running off so recklessly, they'd feel better knowing she regretted her mistake and went straight to the police for help.
But as soon as she left the sidewalk to cross the crumbled road to the police box, she had the wind knocked out of her, tumbling to the ground and feeling a sudden shock of pain as she skinned her knee even through her denim.
"Hey, look where you're going!" came the squeaky, scratchy sound of a boy's voice. Their eyes met, and Shihori wanted to kick him. He was the one who'd run into her!
The boy was a few years older, probably in junior high. He had messy black hair, long and skinny arms and legs, and dark, squinting eyes. He suddenly looked embarrassed when he realized what he'd done. "Oh, a girl," he mumbled to himself, scrambling to his feet. "Sorry."
"What the hell, you're running into girls now?" came the sound of another boy's voice, skidding to a halt and giving the first boy a shove. Shihori could only sit there, trying not to cry in front of these strangers. The second boy was shorter than his friend, with shorter hair and a mole on his chin. "Wait a minute..."
The boys exchanged a look, and finally Shihori couldn't take it any longer. "That hurt!" she squealed, hands turning to fists.
The second boy ran off to the police box, and the first boy, the idiot boy, held out his hand. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, honest. I was in a hurry..."
She took his hand because she had little other choice, looking down at the state of herself. Covered in mud, jeans torn at the knee, and she knew she'd probably scraped it. She bit her lip. "I want to go home," she said, feeling like a kid. She probably sounded like Maki, like a baby.
"Nino's going to get Katori-san. He's the policeman, so..."
She stood there, balancing her weight on her good leg. She was in so much trouble. It only took the sight of the first boy's friend, the Nino kid, coming over with a man in a blue police uniform for the tears to escape, and she burst into tears in the middle of this half-empty town in the middle of nowhere.
"Ah, don't cry!" the first boy said, looking horrified. He must have thought she was crying because he'd knocked her down.
"Aiba-kun, Ninomiya-kun, let's get her inside, okay?" came the policeman's voice.
Shihori could only let them lead her across the street and into the small police station, Officer Katori letting her hold on to this arm. He was tall and strong with a smiling face, and she just sensed that she could trust him unlike the two stupid boys who ran around like a bunch of jerks.
But they still hovered as Officer Katori settled her in a hard wooden chair next to his desk. It was a messy office, with stacks of manila folders everywhere. Ninomiya-kun, the short boy who apparently went by Nino, moved to a sink in the rear of the office and put some water in a cup for her. The current bane of her existence, this Aiba-kun, stood there and fidgeted, staring at her rudely.
She sipped the water and let Officer Katori roll up her pant leg, and he diligently cleaned up her knee and put on a bandage for her. When she was all set there, his smiling face grew a bit more grave. He dismissed the two boys from the office, although Shihori could still hear them whispering to each other outside.
"Can you tell me your name?" Officer Katori asked, still kneeling before her.
"Kanjiya Shihori, from Arakawa, Tokyo. I'm nine years old but I'll be ten soon and my mother is Natsuko and my father is Atsushi and..."
Officer Katori chuckled. "Slow down, Shihori-chan, it's okay. You're not in trouble with me. I just want to help you." He pulled out a pen from the pocket of his uniform jacket and took a pad of paper from the desk. "You're from Tokyo? How'd you get up here?"
He was being so nice and trying to help and she could still hear those boys outside being noisy. The craziness of her entire day, with the loss of Grandpa and running away and her parents being worried...it all came to a head and she started crying again. Officer Katori panicked, finding a handkerchief for her and staying by her side as she told him everything. Why she was in Iwate, getting lost in the forest, finding the village, getting knocked down by that stupid Aiba-kun. She cried and cried, like she'd wanted to for Grandpa that morning.
"Well, it's very fortunate that you came here today," Officer Katori said. "Out of all the days in the year, I'm so glad you came today."
She wasn't sure what he was saying or why, but it felt comforting in a sense. She simply nodded, blowing her nose.
"I'm very sorry about your grandfather. You say he lived in Hachimantai?" Officer Katori said, scratching his head.
"At the end of a dirt road. I...I don't know the name of the road, but they don't live right in town. It's a big house with a pond. That's where my parents are. I'm a Kanjiya and so is my dad, but my mom is a Horikita, if that helps? My grandpa was Horikita Taiyo."
That made Officer Katori's eyes widen. Did he know her family? She didn't have a chance to ask because he was getting to his feet. "Aiba-kun!" Officer Katori shouted. "I know you're still out there!"
The boy poked his head around the doorframe, frowning. "Yes sir?"
"As a way of apologizing to Kanjiya-san for being such a clumsy oaf, you'll be escorting her home."
"What? Why me?" Aiba protested, but Katori's face remained stern.
"Kanjiya-san's grandfather passed away this morning, Horikita Taiyo-san. You know where that house is?"
Aiba-kun paled, and Shihori was all the more confused. Did everyone in this strange little town know her grandfather? How come he had never mentioned this place, not even once during all their walks in the woods?
"Yes, Officer Katori. I know where it is."
Katori glanced up at the clock, and Shihori nearly went into a panic. It was already 5:00 PM and the sun was setting. "Aiba-kun, please mind the curfew."
"Come on," Aiba said abruptly, grabbing her hand and taking a flashlight off of Katori's desk. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"Gentler," Katori chastised him, standing in the doorway as Aiba roughly pulled her out of the police box. "You know how to get back. Be nice to her."
Ninomiya-kun only stared at her as Aiba walked her back through the center of town. With the darkness had come fog, most of the streets already shrouded in the mist. The streets looked even emptier than they had when she arrived. But this Aiba knew exactly where he was going, pulling her along even as she limped and complained.
Aiba-kun's hand was sweaty and gross, and she pulled away from him, following at her own pace. "I fell because of you, you know," she said as they wandered back the way she'd come in search of help. She wished that Officer Katori was the one taking her back. How come he didn't have a police car? Or even a bike to bring her home?
"Yeah well I said I was sorry," Aiba muttered. He kept looking around, growing more nervous the closer they came to the edge of town.
Soon she'd be home, hopefully, if this Aiba-kun had any sense of direction. Then she'd never have to see his stupid face again. "What's the name of this town anyway?" she asked.
"Matsuo Village," he said. "Hurry up, it's dark and the woods aren't safe."
"And you can just run back home in the dark? Can you see in the dark or something?"
He wiggled the flashlight as a reminder. "Ugh, you're the one who's lost, not me, Shihori-chan."
"Don't call me that," she protested, knee still aching as they moved into the valley and back in the direction of the cedar trees. "We're not friends and I don't know you."
"You're just lucky your Grandpa..."
Shihori stopped, nearly stumbling over a branch at the entrance to the forest. "How did you know him?"
Aiba looked embarrassed, as though he'd said something he shouldn't. "Look, seriously. I have to take you home. You can't stay in Matsuo Village."
She walked after him, following the beam of the flashlight as he turned it on and navigated them through the forest. "I wouldn't stay there anyway."
"Well good."
"Good."
Ugh, he was the most annoying person she'd ever met. She thought of Officer Katori's gentle smile, even that Ninomiya boy would be a better companion than Aiba-kun. The two of them stayed quiet, Aiba slowing his pace a bit so she could keep up and not lose him. But he was the type of boy who wouldn't shut up for long. Shihori had a few boys like that in her class at school, always getting in trouble for talking out of turn.
"How old are you?" he asked her.
"Nine."
"I'm twelve," he said proudly, as though he was better than her just for being older. "I play baseball, what do you like to do?"
"Read manga."
He nodded. "I haven't read any in a while. We don't have anything new to read..."
"So why not buy some more?"
Aiba's foot snapped a twig in two noisily. "You wouldn't believe me."
"Are you a liar? Is that why?"
He laughed, this high-pitched kind of snort that annoyed her immediately. "I don't lie. My mom raised me better than that. It's just that it's not easy for Matsuo Village to get anything new."
"Probably because you don't have any cars," Shihori reasoned.
Aiba laughed. "Yeah, that's definitely part of it."
They quieted down again. Shihori had no idea where they were going, but Aiba-kun didn't hesitate once, navigating them through the forest easily. It was getting harder to walk after the long day, and she knew she was going to be sick. She still had no jacket. Aiba's jacket looked a little small on him, like he'd been wearing it a few years too many.
"Are we getting close?"
"Maybe another half an hour. You sure walked far on your own," Aiba admitted. He kicked at some leaves. "Look, I am sorry about your Grandpa. Really. He was a good friend to our village."
Then how come she'd never heard about Matsuo Village before? Shihori could only think of Grandpa's warning the night before. Not to go into the forest. She'd gone ahead and done just the opposite, finding the strangely empty city arrayed on those hills. There'd been more buildings than people to fill them. It was an odd place, Aiba's hometown.
"Thank you," she said in reply, feeling her eyes fill with tears again. She only saw her Grandpa a few times a year, had spoken with him on the phone. There was so much about his life up here that was a mystery. It was odd to think of Grandpa walking all the way to Matsuo Village with his bad back, Panda at his side. "He was a nice man."
"The nicest," Aiba said quietly. "He brought us things. He was a good help. My mom always said so."
And now he was gone. She couldn't stop crying, sniffling from her tears and from the cold. Aiba walked even slower, the beam of his flashlight quivering a bit as they kept walking. Maybe he was crying too.
"Maybe you should come for the funeral. It'll be in a few days, I think," she said. "If you or your friends knew my Grandpa."
"Ah, that's impossible." Aiba sounded truly sad. "That's impossible for us, I'm sorry."
"Why? I don't think my Grandma would mind. Since you helped me..."
Aiba stopped walking, leaning back against a tree. She couldn't see his face since he kept the flashlight pointed at the ground. "Shihori-chan, Matsuo Village isn't like wherever you come from. It's impossible, okay? I'm really sorry."
She didn't bother to correct him for being overly familiar this time. "But you'd only have to walk, the same as we're walking now!"
Aiba sighed. "I'm sure your parents are worried. Let me just bring you home."
The boy offered no other explanation. He was totally weird, and she scowled the rest of the way back. They climbed back up the hill, and Aiba had to hold her hand and pull her along. They finally reached the clearing, and Shihori could see flashing lights. Police cars.
"I bet you're in a ton of trouble," Aiba said, staying back as she moved to approach the edge of the woods.
"Well, why don't you come and tell them what happened? You're a witness, like on TV!"
He stayed where he was. "I've brought you home, just like Officer Katori told me to. But I have to get back."
She stomped her feet, and a shot of pain from her knee coursed through her. "You're a real jerk, okay!"
"And you're kind of a brat," he shot back, though he said it with that annoying laughing voice of his.
"I'm going!" she said.
"Then go!"
"I will!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!" she snapped at him. She turned up her nose at him, turning around and heading for the clearing. When she looked over her shoulder, Aiba-kun was already gone.
--
There was a flurry of activity upon her return. The Hachimantai police had been searching the woods for her all day, and her mother collapsed on the ground as soon as she saw her, sitting in an ambulance with a blanket wrapped around her.
It had been a terrible day for her family, and she'd ruined everything by running away. But when she tried to explain where she'd gone, that she'd found Matsuo Village, that Officer Katori had helped her and that the boy, Aiba-kun, had escorted her back, everyone stared at her a little oddly. Her mother merely kept an arm around her, stroking her hair while her father looked on, smoking a cigarette. The police jotted down what she told them, but they looked at her like she'd said something wrong.
She was ushered into the house, and Aunt Marina had made stew that Shihori devoured quickly. Now that the police were gone, she got the scolding of a lifetime from her father. Grounded indefinitely, and no new CDs. And she couldn't go to the handshake event for her favorite singing group, even though she and a school friend had bought the tickets already. They scolded her for worrying Grandma on the worst possible day, for being selfish and running away, and then for turning up and lying about it.
But she hadn't lied. She hadn't lied about seeing Grandpa the night before, but her father hadn't believed her. She'd told everything she'd seen that day, every single thing down to the mole on Ninomiya-kun's chin. Her parents exchanged worried looks. They sent her to bed, and Maki kept her up asking stupid questions about where she'd gone and if she'd tried to go back to Tokyo on an airplane. Dumb kid questions like always.
When she woke in the morning, she finally saw Grandma, who was sitting in her empty room, the room that still smelled like Grandpa. She was staring out the window, stroking Panda's head, the dog leaning against her looking just as sad as Shihori felt.
She sat at her Grandma's side, trying not to cry. She'd done enough of that. She bowed her head low, apologizing for being such a terrible grandchild.
"They told me about your stories," Grandma said, not meeting her eyes.
"They aren't stories. They're true."
"Matsuo," Grandma said quietly. She had none of her usual humor, none of her endless smiles. "Taiyo told me stories about Matsuo."
She scooted closer. Did Grandma believe her? Nobody believed her, but maybe Grandma did! "I was there, Grandma. It's a whole city with buildings and a police station and..."
Finally Grandma looked over at her. "You have your grandfather's imagination, Shii-chan." She smiled, eyes watering. "But your mama never believed his stories. Maybe it's best you forgot, hmm?"
She looked down. Grandma didn't believe her after all. She wanted to tell Grandma about seeing Grandpa in the hallway, about his last words to her. But if Grandma didn't believe her, who would?
The next days passed in a flash with the funeral and the other friends and family who found their way to the big house in the forest clearing. Shihori's incident was kept quiet, and her parents forbid her to speak of it. She stood out on the porch of the house, standing in the chill, looking to the woods. For Aiba-kun, for Officer Katori.
They never came, and Shihori got back in the car when it was over. She returned to average Arakawa and her average house, and her afternoon in Matsuo Village faded like the fog that swallowed the town whole.
--
Her mother traveled north often to look in on Grandma, who refused to leave the house in the woods and move south closer to the family. Shihori was conveniently left home every time, as though she was liable to run away again and make up stories.
Her memories grew hazy as she got lost in schoolwork, in fun times with her friends. A year passed and Grandpa's death anniversary arrived. Her mother went north for that and Shihori's uncle too, but Shihori stayed home with her father to make sure he didn't burn the kitchen down. All she got to do was speak with Grandma on the phone, tell her about school and the manga she was reading. Shihori prayed at the small altar in their house instead, the small photo of Grandpa they kept there.
In that fashion another year passed. Then another. It was Grandpa's third death anniversary when the family reunited again at the old house. Shihori's uncle and aunt arrived the same day, Maki in tow. Shihori was twelve and her cousin ten, and she was happy to discover that Maki had grown up a bit. She was still a bit shy where Shihori had grown up a bit bossy, but Maki finally left the dolls at home. They spent the first afternoon sitting out by the pond, filthy as ever, with Panda.
They talked about boys a bit, though Maki was pretty convinced most of them were gross. Shihori, however, had started to change her mind recently. Next year she'd be in junior high school. Maybe she'd find her first boyfriend.
The next day was the anniversary, and Shihori remembered how terribly she'd worried the family. For the first time in a long time, she found herself thinking about Matsuo Village, about the odd experience she'd had there. There'd been a policeman. He'd bandaged her knee...she'd never shown her parents. That would have been all the proof she needed, the proof that Matsuo Village was real.
She frowned, pulling on her jacket and stepping outside. She crossed her arms, staring out at the woods, the blood red leaves rustling in the wind. It was an unspoken rule that Shihori was forbidden to enter the woods there again. But soon Maki was outside too, standing at her side like a shadow.
"My mom said you made it all up. Because you were sad about Grandpa," Maki said. "Don't tell her I told you, she'd be embarrassed."
Shihori scowled, crossing her arms tighter. Her cousin could be stupidly straightforward sometimes. "Well I didn't make it up, okay? They knew Grandpa."
Maki pursed her lips. "Prove it."
Shihori turned, seeing mischief in her cousin's eyes for the very first time. She knew Uncle Taku and Aunt Marina were stricter than her own parents. Maki's total weirdness certainly came from that, she thought. But there was no way the two of them could go into the woods, not a chance. She told Maki as much.
"But we can take the bikes from the storage shed and go to town. Your dad said that was okay during breakfast this morning. Then we just come back and go find your made-up village instead."
Shihori smiled at her cousin. There was an interesting girl in there somewhere, hidden under the blunt black fringe and behind that button nose. Sometimes Shihori went to a manga cafe with her friends after school, telling her mom that she'd actually been at the library. This wouldn't be so different. And besides, she wouldn't be alone this time. She'd be with Maki.
She held out her pinky. "I, Kanjiya Shihori, do solemnly swear that Matsuo Village is real. And when I prove to you that it is, you will buy me a manga volume of my choice, even if it takes your whole allowance."
Maki grinned, seeming thrilled to be involved in something naughty for once. The cousins really were better behaved than most, Shihori thought. She shook Shihori's pinky with her own. "And I, Horikita Maki, think you're a grade A fibber, and when there's no town at all you have to treat me to karaoke. Even if it takes your whole allowance."
Shihori nodded. They had an alliance.
--
While Maki charmed their parents into letting the girls head into town, Shihori knelt in front of the altar in the living room. Grandpa's smiling face looked back at her, three years gone. "Matsuo Village is real," she whispered to the portrait. "I'm taking Maki-chan, and even if nobody else believes, we will. I wish you could come with us."
Maki found her, shaking the keys to the storage shed. "We have to be back before sundown, or your dad's driving into town shouting our names from the car. That would be so embarrassing."
It really would be, imagining her calm, mild-mannered father hollering in the street for her. Well, it would be quicker this time. She was older, and she probably had a better sense of direction. Just follow the hill down.
The girls pulled the bikes out of the shed, adjusting the seats. They were old bicycles with rather uncomfortable seats, and they'd belonged to their parents. Shihori's mother was taller, even when she was younger, and Shihori had to shift the seat down to accommodate her shortness. Maki rang the tiny little bell on the bike. "Karaoke, Shii-chan. I'm gonna win."
"I'm gonna smack your face," she threatened in return, though she'd never actually do it. She just wanted to see the look in Maki's eyes when she first saw the concrete buildings appear out of the fog. But she had to get them there first.
With Maki's father standing guard on the porch, they obediently pedaled down the dirt road, disappearing around the corner as though they were truly planning to head into town. They went half a mile down before Maki turned off the path, biking over the bumpy grass toward the cedar trees that lined the road back toward the house.
"Which way? Which way, Shii-chan?"
They rode along the tree-line, dodging rocks as best they could before ditching the bikes at the edge of the forest. It was mid-morning, so they had plenty of time. They'd get back to the bikes, hurry to town and buy something, and then go back to the house with their parents none the wiser.
The distance seemed shorter this time. It was like Shihori was being drawn forward, as if her body knew the right way to go even though it had been three years, pulling her down along with the slope of the land. She supposed that since she wasn't so upset it was easier to make her way there this time. She'd been in a daze the first time.
Maki complained a bit as some mud spattered against her red pants, but Shihori kept walking. Victory was surely in her grasp. It was maybe a good twenty or thirty minutes before they reached the point where the woods gave way, and she heard Maki's gasp when they emerged.
It was even foggier than it had been three years ago but there was no mistaking the buildings perched on the hill, the gray winding snake of a road peeking out from the center of town. They stood together watching, and Maki was so stunned that she wrapped her arm around a tree, clinging to it in shock.
Shihori settled her hands on her hips. "See, I'm not a liar. It's a whole town, you know."
"I'm sorry, Shii-chan, for not believing."
"And it'll only cost you the price of the newest One Piece. I'll be nice and ask for something easy."
Maki only nodded, squinting out across the valley. "Kind of a scary place, don't you think? And you went all the way into town?"
"Dare you to come with me."
Her cousin hesitated. "Maybe we should go back. I believe you, isn't that enough?"
But Shihori shook her head. It had been three years, and nothing had changed. They hadn't even fixed the street. And Shihori had a nagging desire to visit no matter what. She'd never gotten to properly thank Officer Katori for his help. The man had helped her that day, and all she'd done was get snot all over his handkerchief like a big baby.
"The people there are nice," she said, trying to sound encouraging. So long as they didn't run into that stupid boy, Aiba-kun.
But then Maki gasped, rustling some leaves as she suddenly jolted. Shihori watched her cousin point, out across the valley. They'd been so caught up in the sight of the fog shrouding the hills that they hadn't even thought to look down.
There in the valley, just where the old road stopped, was a makeshift baseball diamond. Shihori could only tell that's what it was because of the placement of people. There was someone up to bat, and as she squinted, she could see other people placed where the bases, pitcher's mound, and outfield were supposed to be. She was struck with the memory of Aiba-kun, much as she could happily go the rest of her life without seeing him. He'd mentioned that he'd liked baseball that day.
She turned to give her cousin a shake. "Let's go check it out. We can cheer them on."
"But we don't even know them," Maki said, frowning. "I believe you, I said I did. But they're strangers, and I'm not brave like you."
Shihori was undeterred. Maybe Officer Katori was down there, or at the very least the people could tell her where he was. It was foolish to come all this way and not see what was going on in Matsuo Village. She set off, hearing Maki grumble in protest. She could follow or not.
As they drew closer, she could see that the assembled baseball team was made up of people of all ages. Some people her parents' age, others teenagers a few years older than her. When she drew close, enough to see the pitcher tilt up his cap and stare at her, she realized that there were familiar faces in the crowd.
The game ground to a screeching halt, and the pitcher dropped his glove and the ball, running from the mound in her direction. Well, maybe this had been a bad idea, Shihori thought, glancing back to see that Maki had followed her, but slowly, and was several feet back looking shy.
The other players huddled together, the two middle-aged men and teenage girl in the outfield running over to join the infielders. The catcher got out of his crouch, lifting his mask and jogging up behind the pitcher.
"I don't believe it!" the pitcher said, and as soon as she saw him up close, she kind of wanted to turn back. It was Aiba-kun, older and taller than before and just as lanky. His baseball uniform was nothing more than a ratty pair of jeans and a very old looking Hanshin Tigers t-shirt. It was chilly for November, but he was sweating like crazy. The first thought Shihori had was that he'd kind of gotten cuter, but then she shoved that thought away, reminding herself of how he'd not come for her Grandpa's funeral and had made such lame excuses.
The catcher was about Aiba-kun's age, but Shihori didn't recognize him from her previous visit. He was of a height with Aiba, with thick, unruly eyebrows and a crooked smile. "Who's this?" he asked. "Masaki, you know her?"
Apparently Masaki was Aiba's first name. "She's the girl," Aiba said. "The girl from three years ago. And here she is again, on the exact same day."
She could hear her cousin approaching, could sense Maki trying to sneak up close but still hide behind her. Shihori crossed her arms. "I'm not 'the girl,' you know, I have a name."
Aiba nodded, leaning back and grinning. He was still kind of a jerk, even if he'd gotten cute. "Oh of course. Where are my manners? Jun-kun, this is Shihori-sama, Matsuo Village's girl of legend." Aiba leaned close, smirking. "You didn't get much taller in three years."
She felt herself go red at his teasing. "Look, this is my cousin Maki. She didn't believe me that Matsuo Village is real. So I wanted to prove it to her."
"Send them home," came a third voice. The boy who'd been up to bat walked over. It took a bit of rude staring until she saw the telltale mole on his chin. Ninomiya-kun. Nino, her memory corrected.
A chilly wind swept down from the village, howling through the breaks between the buildings. It came rushing down into the valley, making Shihori's hair fly wildly. She felt Maki's arm slide through hers, holding on. "I wanted to see Officer Katori," she explained, tugging some strands of hair out of her mouth. "That's all, I just wanted to say thank you for last time. I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back."
The three boys exchanged a look. It seemed to be a Matsuo Village trait. One of the women who'd been playing, the shortstop who seemed close in age to Shihori's mother, walked over. Unlike the three annoying teenagers, she had an air of authority to her. "Who are these young ladies?" the woman asked pointedly, looking at Shihori like she had two heads.
Aiba took over the introductions while the catcher boy, Jun, looked off towards the woods they'd come from. Nino, however, looked just as serious as the woman. "This is Shihori," Aiba explained. "And her cousin. She's the girl who was here three years ago. Officer Katori talked to her."
The woman's eyes widened in understanding. Of what, Shihori didn't know. But was she really that infamous around town here? The girl who was here three years ago - as though nobody else had been around since. What was with this place?
"Taiyo-san's granddaughters then," the woman said with a nod. "Taiyo-san's family will always be welcome in Matsuo Village, I can't deny them hospitality."
"We don't want to be a bother," Maki interrupted, her voice quiet and shy. She gave a tug on Shihori's arm, as though to pull her back to the woods. "We're sorry for ruining your game."
"We're just not used to outsiders," Jun said, though Nino elbowed him for saying so. Jun scowled at him. "What, it's the truth!"
The woman hushed the boys with a mere look. She turned to Shihori. "Taiyo-san never spoke to you of this place, did he?"
She shook her head.
"I see," the woman said. "Please join us for lunch since you've come all this way."
Part Two