Case 13: Spiritual Paths (5)

I was doing something completely insane. I was breaking into someone else’s house in the middle of the night, and talking to someone I couldn’t see.

No one would believe me if I talked to them about this, and they surely wouldn’t understand either. But despite that, I still couldn’t give up for some reason. I was helplessly afraid, yet helplessly excited. It felt as if my rightful place was here, beyond this darkness.

Both of us(In reality it might have just been me, but I dare say so) entered the house through the verandah. The sliding storm shutter had corroded, and easily came off with a little a bit of force. From there, we climbed down to the carpet that felt moist with our shoes still on, and propped the shutters up again from inside. With this, it won’t look like it’s been removed with a quick glance from the outside.

The interior of the room was surprisingly wide—although, that was because the first floor was a tatami-matted space with almost all the fusuma’s thrown wide open.

Similar to my parents’ home, the layout was partitioned by fusuma’s and shoji where deemed necessary.

A sour odor drifted through the room, was it because trash had been left somewhere? After taking several steps, I remembered and took the pocket light out of my pocket. I pointed it at my feet and switched it on. There lay several magazines and clothes strewn about. A fusuma that was broken had been removed and propped up against the wall, and an old electric fan lay tumbled over in the corner of the wall. For some reason, I aimed my light here and there and got startled.

Countless talismans were plastered over the lintels. Some were already peeling off and some were torn.

“W...what is this?”

(They’re talismans.)

“No, I understand that. I’m asking why there are so many of them hung up like that.”

(The residents must have been afraid.)

After the young girl’s voice whispered in an echo—she continued, ‘However’.

“…However?”

But she didn't continue, and my surroundings continued to be filled with silence.

“…Hey? However what?”

But there was still no reply. I thought she might have ended up going somewhere, but when I stayed still and looked around, I realized her presence was a little further ahead of me. For some reason, it felt like she was biting her nails, but eventually, her presence turned to move in the direction of the kitchen.

(…This house is interesting.)

As if lured by that somewhat joyous voice, I stepped over the scattered luggage and nervously stepped into the kitchen.

(Why was so much luggage left behind?)

“Eh?”

(Dirty dishes.) (Worn out toothbrushes.) (Discolored vegetables.)

It seemed the invisible young girl was speaking of things she saw in the kitchen sink one-by-one.

(Toy trains.)

…Toys?

I, too, drew close to the sink, and peered inside.

Sure enough, there were several pieces of rubbish strewn about, and a wooden toy train was lying amongst them.

(Torn magazine pages.) (A torn shoelace.) (A doll’s arm.) (A piece of paper.) (A jar of salt.) (Dead insects.) (Sand.) (Rubber bands.) (Scraps of packaging.) (Citrus peels.) (Cup noodle packaging.) (One sock.) (Bookmarks.) (A discolored photograph.) (A ball with no air.)

“A trash house… well I wouldn’t go so far as to call it that, but it’s definitely close to one.”

When I said that,

(A hoarder.) The voice spoke.

(One of the anxiety disorders—people who can’t throw away things or put things away -- the root cause being trauma of having been abandoned by someone in the past.)

“Are you saying the resident of this house was that kind of person?”

When I mentioned this, I remembered. In the first place, wasn’t this house noticed as a place where six spiritual paths overlapped?

When I asked about it, a voice echoed in the darkness.

(Spiritual paths are just paths. They exist everywhere. In a country with so many temples and shrines, it’s impossible to avoid living in places where they connect and intersect.)

“Then, just why on earth is this house--”

As I was speaking, I noticed it. It was, how should I say…

…A strange smell of blood.

I puckered up my face and sniffed unintentionally, when—

(Don’t turn around.)

The invisible girl's words made my body freeze with a jerk. For some reason, I felt a cold chill at my back. I held my breath, and slowly turned my gaze from the sink to behind me.

…….Eh?

Directly behind my sneakers – was someone’s feet.

(Stop breathing.)

…B, breathing? Why?

That’s what I thought, but I was already in a state where I couldn’t breathe anymore. I had no idea what was going on. In the darkness, someone’s skinny bare feet were stuck close to me.

…H…hey, wasn’t no one supposed to be in this house…?

My body was as rigid as a rock, my gaze unable to move from the bare feet that were right behind me. The skin of the feet was discolored blue. There were no fingernails, and they were sore in places, and, for some reason—Ah, why was it?

They were both right feet.

The moment I realized that, I let out a shriek, “Eek!”. At the same time, my stiff body loosened. I turned around as I stumbled forward, and aimed my light at my back, but there were no feet there anymore, there was no one.

In the silence, only the sound of my breathing echoed. As I desperately took the oxygen in me, I aimed my light here and there with trembling hands. The shadows of different types of trash stretched out creepily, but nowhere amongst them was anyone barefoot with two right feet.

“….H, hey, what… was that just now?”

At long last, I was able to speak. Before I’d realized, the bloody smell had vanished.

“…You saw it, didn’t you? What… was that thing just now?”

(…Who knows?)

The invisible girl close to me spoke once more.

(But, there are still two more.)

“…T-t-two more, you say?”

(Above.)

With that voice, I nervously aimed my light at the staircase at the end of the kitchen.

There, illuminated by the light, an old wooden staircase extended upwards into an even deeper darkness.

“…H, hey, let’s stop now.”

I spoke in a trembling voice, however, without hesitation, the presence headed in that direction.

A creaking sound reverberated, suggesting that the invisible girl had placed her feet on the stairs.

(It’s on the second floor.)

“…Second floor? What is?”

But the girl did not answer, only the creaking sound of the staircase echoed upwards.

As I slowly ascended the steps firmly one-by-one, I remembered. Come to think of it, when I was in the courtyard a while back, it felt like something was peeping out of the shoji on the second-floor window. What on earth was that….? And was it somewhere upstairs on the second floor?

As I moved my trembling legs one after the other, I reached the top of the stairs, and aimed my light.

The air was heavy. And -- it was overwhelmingly dark. It was dark enough to swallow my light whole.

I took one gulp, still desperately trying to regain my breath, and first checked my surroundings.

Roughly speaking, the second floor seemed to have three rooms. However, like the first floor, each of the three rooms was not independent, but merely separated by fusuma. However, the fusuma was torn at various places. In the darkness, something beyond the darkness of the torn fusuma—

Suddenly, the ground shook.

No, my legs had begun to tremble.

Beyond the fusuma—that’s right, I was afraid of the secret of my childhood, locked away inside the darkness.

“…If I could just, open it.”

Before I’d realized, I was muttering out loud between the gap of my teeth as if I was grumbling.

“….I might be broken… But, if I can open that, I’ll be cured… That’s right, by doing that… I returned to being normal… so once more… it’ll be fine if I open it again… I’ll open it…”

Encouraging my legs that were on the verge of collapse, I drew close to the fusuma, step-by-step.

I placed my trembling fingertips on the fusuma, and with my eyes closed… opened it in a single breath. Then, a burning smell spread around me. I slowly opened my eyes a tiny bit, and aimed my light---

Ahead of me, was just a tatami matted room about 10 sqm in size.

“…S, see, look.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, and at the same time, I once again noticed that something still smelled.

It wasn’t just that the stagnant air had not been ventilated for a long time. The air itself was ridiculously heavy.

And, I realized that the tatami was billowing.

As if drawn to that, I aimed my light down towards the floor. I strained my eyes and gasped.

It was hair. Long jet-black hair creeped along the tatami.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing right now. It wasn’t hair that had been cut off. It was as if it had grown out of somewhere, filling the room with darkness, and a bloody smell.

From somewhere, a clink sounded.

No, it was as if it had been echoing continuously for a while now.

It was as if I had only been hearing that sound at the edge of my consciousness, and paid no attention to it.

If people lived in a world their minds believed in—

Then what would happen to people, when their minds no longer believed? If the things they saw, and the things they heard—if they became unbelievable all at once…what would people use to stay standing?

As I was petrified in place—

I traced along the direction of that hair with my pocket light in a daze. And when I recognized a Buddhist family chapel in one corner of the wall, I heard my heart violently thumping. I averted my eyes instantly – but at long last, I finally recognized the thing I saw the moment I opened the fusuma.

Something was there.

It seemed to be a woman.

It felt as if her feet from her ankles down were bluish-white, and she had no toenails.

Her hair hung down and covered the entire floor, she stood still facing the wall, her back was turned towards me, and—

“-A…Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”

I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could. By screaming, I was trying to stimulate my ears, my senses, to bring back reality. I wanted to deny the entirety of the thing in front of my eyes as an illusion.

And the next thing I knew, I ran off and almost rolled over.

I kicked various things away that were scattered on the floor, bumped my shoulder into something, but ran despite that as I tumbled down the stairs. I descended to the ground floor and closed my eyes as if pretending not to perceive the marked presences, and dashed towards the sliding storm shutter. With a violent crash, the sliding storm shutter fell outwards, and I simultaneously collapsed out on the veranda.

I had already hit my body here and there, but it was trivial. Even if I had dropped an arm or two on the spot, I would have left it there. I was shouting something, but I didn’t care about being reported anymore. Or rather, I was scared to the point where it would have been better for my screams to be reported and an officer to come.

The woman with her back turned who I saw just now, was horrifying, the metallic sound that seemed to be chasing me was horrifying, and the thing most horrifying of all, was the me just now who had been exploring the ruins of a building until now together with an invisible, unidentified ‘voice’. Once again, I heard a clink ring out from somewhere, but I didn’t look back anymore, instead, I ran out of the grounds of the house as if trampling over the fence.

I ran out to the street and kept running and running all the way to Itsukaichikaidō where many cars were passing by.