Chapter Five, in which I Receive Suspect Reasoning Behind the Perpetual Existence of the Unlikely Spirit

* * * *

There was no way to gauge Spirit-san’s reaction. She was just a voice in my head, so it was difficult to decide if I should take her words at face value.

How did I really die? Spirit-san echoed my question. What do you mean?

“A ghost who died tripping down the stairs… It just sounds stupid.”

It’s not impossible though.

“Might as well be,” I said. “There’s no stairs in this village. The houses are all small hovels. Even the shrine and temple in your village don’t have any long, steep stairways. Just paths with a few steps here and there. And the way I see it, you hardly ever left your house in the first place.”

I left my house! Sometimes.

“You lived a sheltered life, Spirit-san. I can tell that much, at least. It supports my belief you never traveled anywhere. And if it’s unlikely for you to go anywhere at all, it’s unlikely for you to go somewhere with a stairway suitable for dying on.”

You are too blunt, Spirit-san said. But you’re right. I never did much of anything outside my home. My life was a boring one. Sort of.

“Sort of,” I repeated. “Such a plain and ordinary life… And then you became a ghost?” If nothing eventful ever happened in life, there was no reason for death to suddenly be full of surprises.

“I doubt your life was entirely boring.”

It was boring to me. And I think that’s good enough reason to become a ghost.

“If you wanted to escape a life of boredom, wouldn’t an invisible existence that gives you nothing to do be a worst case scenario? It’s obvious you’re not much of an enlightened being, considering how attached you are to everything, including but not limited to: freakish displays of calligraphy, completely random strangers, New Year’s soup, bland winter scenes, and—of all things—ice skating.”

All great things, don’t you think? It was worth sticking around for this day.

“I find that hard to believe.”

Would it surprise you to hear that I was planning for this day before I had even died?

I didn’t respond. Everything I understood about Spirit-san suddenly seemed to change in some way. The way she sounded, the way she acted—she herself didn’t actually change, but her words were placing everything in a new light. There indeed was more to her desire to meet me than she had let on. But it wasn’t me she needed—she needed an onmyoji. Even before she had become a ghost.

I can tell you what happened to me. Let me show you where I died, Naoki-kun.

* * * *

Spirit-san led my body to a lake a ways past the village. It was larger than the one I attempted to skate on, not to mention deeper. This lake hadn’t frozen over. For a minute I simply stared out at it, and Spirit-san said nothing. Was this the location of her death? I wondered if that meant she drowned. It was a strange way to die, assuming it took place a year ago in the winter.

My body turned a little chillier, standing there by the dark and desolate body of water. There was nobody in sight—nothing to see save for the legions of trees encompassing the region. I couldn’t help but think that if something bad were to happen, nobody would find out about it for some time. This location was tucked away well off the beaten path, and there was no reason for anyone to come here this time of year. All was silent save for tiny, muffled waves shifting about by a half-hearted breeze.

I unconsciously pointed at a long, flat rowboat tied up on the shore. We need to get in this boat.

So Spirit-san wanted to not just bring me to the lake, but right out in the middle of it.

“I think I get the idea… You were bored, so you went for a boat ride. And then you fell out and drowned, since you don’t know how to swim.” There was little reason for women like Spirit-san to learn how to swim. And based on what I knew about Spirit-san, it didn’t seem out of place for her to randomly decide to go boating in the middle of winter.

That’s not how it went, Spirit-san said. She laughed a bit and made my body motion toward the boat again. Just let me show you.

I didn’t like the idea of being ferried out to the realm of the damned by some giggling hell girl. But did I really have a choice? If I didn’t get in the boat, Spirit-san would just make me.

So I dragged the boat to the water and sat on one of its two seats. There was a long oar lying in front of me; I used this to give the boat a good push off the shore, then proceeded to guide it toward the center of the lake.

What was it Spirit-san wanted me to see, exactly? There was nothing but frigid water out here. No islands or rocks sticking out of the water. If Spirit-san was planning something unsightly, I needed to figure out a way to keep her from making me meet the same fate that she did. Couldn’t this have been her plan all along? She wanted to win my trust, take me to the lake and kill me there, and somehow that might make me a ghost too and I’d be stuck with her forever? It was so unlikely, it felt almost bound to happen.

I gripped the oar a little tighter and focused on the water directly in front of me. What was I going to do when I reached the center of the lake? Was I going to just jump off the boat? Then take a deep breath the moment I was under water? Spirit-san was capable of making it happen. And for all I knew, she had been planning this even before she died. Desperate for love, and seeing she had no chance of winning a man’s heart through conventional means, she killed herself and set the stage to kill an onmyoji bound to her. Her current possession over me would then be a central facet of her plan.

With each stroke of the oar, the story in my head grew all the more inconceivable. I couldn’t let it get to me though—I had to remain calm and come up with a way out of this. Was there a chance I could get Spirit-san to stop possessing me? What did I need to tell her to get her to leave my body?

I’m going to leave your body, Spirit-san said. I want to test something out, so can you take out your paper and ink? That way we can still talk to each other.

“That’s… fine with me. What are you going to do?”

She didn’t respond. I stopped rowing, somehow thinking that would help me listen for her words, but there was nothing to hear. She must have stopped possessing me, and was probably already sitting in the seat just across from me.

There was a surreal uneasiness to this whole situation. I had never taken a boat out to a secluded lake with a woman like this before. In most contexts this would be considered romantic, wouldn’t it? If it wasn’t a frigid winter day. And if the woman in question wasn’t invisible… or planning to kill me.

But then on second thought, it seemed she wasn’t? Of her own accord she stopped possessing me. Maybe Spirit-san really did have something out here to show me.

I took some paper, ink, and a brush from my pack and held them out. Each item lifted from my hands and floated to the seat just in front of me. The paper was laid flat, hovering just above the seat—presumably it was resting on Spirit-san’s lap.

“Is there something I should be looking for in the lake?” I asked.

Once the brush was inked, Spirit-san wrote up a quick response. You need to row toward that mountain. The ghost pointed with the brush, and I proceeded to turn the boat accordingly. To continue writing, she had to set the brush aside a moment, and even the paper slipped through the ghost’s legs after a period of time.

Spirit-san eventually continued. It’s not much further. I don’t want to tell you what to look for, though. What you see will decide what I do next.

This at least confirmed she had a plan in mind for all this, but it sounded like it wasn’t a concrete one. I continued to row in the direction the floating brush pointed toward, my mind racing through possibilities. Was there something I needed to do as an onmyoji at this point? There was something I needed to look for in this lake. If the ghost was leading me to the place where she died, then perhaps she wanted me to locate her corpse. Or what was left of it. Assuming it was still there.

I recalled my earlier theory that Spirit-san hadn’t been given the proper funeral rites. Was it possible she had been ignored completely after she died?

Was there nobody there for her then? Was she just as lonely a person in the village as she was an apparition in the mansion?

The ink brush tilted to the right a little. I adjusted the boat’s course.

What expression was on Spirit-san’s face right now? I had to wonder if she was laughing at me. All this time I tried to maintain control of my situation, but in the end the ghost brought me right where she wanted me.

Spirit-san’s paper rose off her lap, now with a new message. Just a bit further. The paper and brush were set aside on the seat, presumably to Spirit-san’s right. I continued to row, lost in aimless possibilities.

A person appeared in front of me. Sitting right there in the boat, looking at me. It was Spirit-san.

I set my oar down and took a deep, quiet breath.

This was without a doubt Spirit-san. She looked just as she did in her self-portrait. A short-haired woman with an unassuming smile, and wearing a snowflake-patterned kimono. But just like the snow, everything about Spirit-san was void of color. Her hair, her eyes, her skin, and even her kimono—everything was a pallid and bloodless white. It was as if her frame and all the details of her image were inked upon white paper, but in some unreal yet living form.

But not technically living. An impossible form of existence, yet there she was regardless. And everything about her—save for the lack of color—was perfectly human. She was not transparent. She had legs. She wasn’t a disfigured mess. And she still breathed, blinked, and smiled.

“You’re here,” I said. “Well, you always were here, but…”

“Oh, you can see me then?” Spirit-san asked. She smiled a little more mischievously, then balled her hands into tiny fists and raised them in front of her, as if trying to contain her excitement. “That’s wonderful! This must mean you are an onmyoji after all. I have to admit I had my doubts for a while there.”

Indeed, I could see her here at the site of her death, but technically that didn’t prove anything about me being an onmyoji. It was possible that anyone would be able to see Spirit-san at this location. Of course, the chances of that happening were very slim if Spirit-san was never bound to this site.

“You’ve maintained a human form, but it appears you’ve lost all your color. Do you see yourself that way?”

Spirit-san held her arms out in front of her and looked them over. “Oh, you’re right! I hadn’t noticed before.”

Was she serious? “Here, let me see if I can touch you now.”

Spirit-san leaned back a bit, her smile lengthening sheepishly.

I held a hand forward. “You know what I mean. Just try touching my hand.”

The ghost stared at my hand a few seconds, her expression shifting to something slightly insidious-looking. Or maybe she was embarrassed? It was difficult to tell if she was blushing.

She placed her hand in mine, and I clasped my fingers around hers.

I gave a quiet laugh. “Not quite the bony grip of death I expected.”

It was the opposite. Her hand was soft and warm—well, as warm as could be expected on a day this chilly.

Without thinking, I held out my other hand, and she immediately accepted it.

After a few seconds, she squeezed my hands a little tighter and started giggling. “This is fun. I haven’t done this in…” She glanced to the side and cast a wry smile. “Well, I guess I’ve never done this, actually.”

“Can’t say I have either,” I said.

Spirit-san looked back at me, her colorless eyes shining bright. “It feels good.”

A part of me felt glad this ghost found some measure of happiness after death. I had little information to work with, but it seemed apparent Spirit-san didn’t have many meaningful relationships in life. And somehow, just sitting here with Spirit-san and seeing her cheerful smile… My uneasiness washed away somehow.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

“Well, now that that’s confirmed…”

I tried to let go of Spirit-san’s hands, but she held on tight.

She grinned.

“All right then,” I said. “How about you answer a question or two for me in the meantime. Is this what you wanted to show me? You wanted to show yourself to me?”

“I thought it might be possible, so I gave it a shot,” she said. “But even if it didn’t work, this was where I wanted to tell you everything.”

She slowly let go of my hands, then leaned back a bit and placed her palms down to either side of her. Her smile lessened a bit, shifting her demeanor to a more appropriate shade of solemnity.

She bowed her head slightly. “I’m sorry I lied to you, Naoki-kun. But I need your help with something. If I were straightforward about it you would have exorcised me right away, so I had to form a bit of a plan to bring you to the village.”

“What do you need help with?” I asked. It was unlikely I was going to be able to help her in the way she intended, but there was still a chance I could make something work out.

“I need to find some ghosts,” Spirit-san said. “Three ghosts.”

“What, any three ghosts?”

“They’re specific ghosts. And they should all be in the village.”

“You know them?” I asked.

Spirit-san stared straight into my eyes, unmoving. Did she not want to answer?

I chose a more general question. “What happened?”

Spirit-san shut her eyes and took a silent breath.

And then she opened her eyes again. “I killed three people. And then I killed myself.”

* * * *

I waited for Spirit-san to say something more. Anything would have been fine. I even would have accepted a “just kidding” followed by her poking her tongue out and winking.

But she just sat there, apparently waiting for a response.

So I asked, “Isn’t that a bit out of character for someone like you?”

Spirit-san shrugged. “I’ve only said a few things about myself, haven’t I? It doesn’t make sense to start things off with my entire life story. So isn’t it okay to throw in a surprise every now and then?”

Calling this dark revelation a mere surprise was not realistic.

I leaned forward a bit and clasped my hands together. “I have a few more questions to ask.”

Spirit-san placed her fingertips against one another and tilted her head a little. “I’m curious what the first question will be.”

I wasn’t sure myself where to begin. Are you a complete psychopath after all? Are these people you killed your past pseudo-boyfriends, and I’m the next to go? Will you die a second time if I push you off this boat right now?

“You said you want me to find three ghosts. Assuming that’s possible, what is it you want me to do then?”

Spirit-san smiled. “That’s so sweet of you, Naoki-kun. I thought for sure you’d ask why I killed three people.”

“I couldn’t think of a particularly tactful way to ask. I try to avoid upsetting ghosts if I can help it.” I wasn’t trying to funny, but perhaps this was the safest way to approach the task at hand.

“I’ll start with my plan then,” Spirit-san said. “When I died, my hope was to find three particular ghosts. But this entire time I’ve been dead… I haven’t been able to see any of them.” She bowed her head downward slightly, her bangs almost covering her eyes.

“So you’re a ghost who can’t even see other ghosts.”

Spirit-san looked up and grinned. “I guess becoming a ghost doesn’t automatically grant you the ability to see ghosts! Only onmyoji and shrine maidens and mountain monks can see ghosts.”

“Not to mention those who happen to be haunted by ghosts,” I added.

“Yes, there’s sometimes those too,” Spirit-san said, raising a finger. “But the point is I still can’t see the people I need to find.”

“And why do you need to find them?”

“According to a book I read, the main reason ghosts exist is because souls seek retribution.” The way she pronounced retribution seemed to imply it was an impressive word to her—one to be used only on special occasions. “At least, that’s what it said.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with this book.”

“I thought you would be! But anyways, retribution is needed.”

And she stopped there for some reason. She placed her hands on her knees and gave a satisfied smile, one that felt entirely out of place considering the circumstances.

“What, that’s it?” I asked.

“Retribution,” the ghost repeated, placing awkward emphasis on the wrong syllable.

“How about you explain why you killed three people then, Spirit-san.”

The ghost closed her eyes and frowned. “It’s not like I wanted them to die. But they still died because of me, so there’s really no difference in the end.”

Suddenly Spirit-san’s revelation didn’t seem so far-fetched. There was more to these three—or rather, four—deaths than she had let on. I inferred this meant she wasn’t some crazed killer after all. Probably.

“I see. So when you say retribution, you mean you want to apologize to these three ghosts.”

“You can’t just say you’re sorry when somebody dies,” Spirit-san said. “That wouldn’t be nearly enough.”

“There isn’t anything that can make up for dying though.”

“Maybe not, but I still have to try. It wasn’t fair that those three people died. They need to haunt me. For as long as they feel necessary.”

So Spirit-san was a ghost that wanted to be haunted by other ghosts? I couldn’t make this up.

“You want me to find three ghosts so they can cause you endless torment.”

Spirit-san opened her eyes again, her frown turning more stern. “Some kind of torment, yes.”

“You expected an onmyoji to help you out with this?”

“Can’t think of anyone better-suited to work with ghosts.”

“There’s a difference between exorcising a pesky poltergeist and going on a date with a needy ghost in hopes that the onmyoji will warm up to her enough to go to all the trouble of enabling said ghost to endure centuries of needless masochism. What kind of onmyoji would put up with this?”

“What kind of person becomes an onmyoji? No normal person devotes his life to dealing with ghosts. It only makes sense that the average ghost expert would have unusual tastes. If you’re a ghost expert, you are out of the ordinary.”

Or just desperate for any kind of income, as was my case. No need to bring that up now though.

I looked out at the quiet waters of the lake. Was there some truth to Spirit-san’s words? My life had played out in an unordinary way perhaps, but I hadn’t thought of myself as that unusual.

“What if you found an onmyoji who didn’t want to help you?” I asked. “What would you do then?”

“I came up with incentives to give in case the onmyoji was reluctant,” Spirit-san said. “But you’re the type of person who likes to help people out, Naoki-kun. I can tell! You’ve hardly needed any encouragement at all to bring me all the way out here. Even if you don’t really like me, you’re still willing to go this far for a stranger.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at Spirit-san, so I just let my gaze drift out to the distant, silent forests. Was there shame in hiding my own secrets from her? It was still dangerous to reveal too much—she just said herself that she had ways to motivate an onmyoji who wouldn’t help her out.

“But what if the onmyoji was somehow all right with going along with your crazy wishes, but wasn’t able to actually… do anything about them?”

Something landed on my shoulder. I turned and found Spirit-san leaning directly in front of me, hunched over a bit so she could reach me. Though her eyes were vacant, there were lines of concern in her expression. A tiny, fragile smile hinted at something more she was feeling, however.

“You can definitely do it. You’re not the type who gives up easily. You live a lifestyle most people would call impossible, and you do it without even worrying how others might think of you.”

The way she said this, she sounded genuinely impressed with me—perhaps even envious.

“I can try, I suppose.” There was no way I was going to be able to summon a bunch of ghosts for Spirit-san though, and even if I could I didn’t see any good reason to do so.

“If you try… that will be enough,” Spirit-san said. Thin streams of tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, catching me off-guard. Apparently ghosts could cry.

She suddenly fell upon me, and for a half-moment I panicked, thinking it was an attack. She wrapped her arms around me, but only so she could cry in my shoulder. Her sobs came out muffled and stilted—it was clear she was trying her hardest to keep it all in.

I placed my hands gently on her back as a comforting gesture. I frowned, not quite sure what to do next. It was the first time anyone had ever opened up to me like this.

Was I beginning to understand this ghost and her unlikely predicament? I wished I could decide how I was supposed to view Spirit-san.

I stared out at the waters and wondered what my next move was going to be. Any legitimate concern I felt for the spirit at this point didn’t change the fact there was no way for me to bring about any kind of the retribution she sought. The longer I prolonged this arrangement, the more painful and potentially dangerous my position would become. One way or another, I had to escape the clutches of this phantom.

* * * *

Once Spirit-san finished crying and sat back down, I asked if there was something else I could do to help her. She didn’t have anything in mind though, and went on to bow, apologize, and thank me several times before attempting to move on. It hurt to hear so many variations of sorry and thank you when I knew there wasn’t anything I was actually going to be able to do for her.

“I’ve put you through a lot today,” Spirit-san said, looking down toward her hands clasped on her lap.

“And yesterday,” I added.

Spirit-san nodded. “I hope it will all be worth it to you somehow.”

“It’s fine. It’s my job,” I said. But seeing just how crestfallen she looked, I added, “And the bizarre pretend date was… entertaining, in some roundabout way. Got to go ice skating, at least.”

“I hoped it would be fun for you.” Spirit-san looked up at me with a small smile. “You looked so glum at the mansion. I wanted to cheer you up a little before asking for your help.”

“How true was your blood-stained greeting then?” I asked. “You claimed to love me.”

“Oh, I meant what I wrote,” Spirit-san said. “I admit I was maybe a little too excited when I finally found you, a real-life onmyoji. Someone who could see me and talk to me. And maybe even… understand me.”

That explained it then. She didn’t love me—she loved what I could do for her. It was no legitimate affection she held for me. Perhaps it could even be considered an effect of her ghostly nature: a compulsion to attach herself to me in order to propel this whole series of events.

Spirit-san went on. “I also might have hoped the message would help move things along… I thought maybe you would like me too, so you wouldn’t want to exorcise me. Or at least wait a bit so you could learn more about me. And then we could go to the village together.”

Would an onmyoji be more or less likely to exorcise a spirit that claimed to love him? An exorcist does require a full understanding of a ghost’s motivation in order to safely perform the proper rituals. Perhaps the average onmyoji really would have gone along with courting Spirit-san in order to grasp what compelled her to linger on. And in this case, it would have been especially worthwhile to do so, since it could potentially lead to the discovery of three other ghosts trapped in this mortal realm. These ghosts could also be haunting the village in some way.

I looked to Spirit-san and tried to maintain a reposed expression. “It doesn’t seem you’ve meant any real harm, so there hasn’t been a reason to exorcise you immediately. If going along with your whims for a bit will bring you peace… Well, I can see what I can do. I can’t make any promises though.”

“That’s fine,” Spirit-san said, glancing off to the side. “It’s not that I need to find peace though. I just need to make up for what I’ve done. And I… I guess I just wanted to have a little fun beforehand. I never did anything like this when I was alive. It was more fun than I imagined, actually.”

There was a long pause, and I wondered if that meant this was a good time to head back to shore. I picked up the oar and dipped it into the water.

“Wait!” Spirit-san reached for my hand and gripped it firmly. “Before I disappear again, I just wanted to say one more thing.”

I presumed she was going to possess me again soon enough. Wouldn’t she be able to say whatever she wanted then? But perhaps she wanted me to see her as she said this.

I waited a bit, but she just kept staring at me earnestly.

“Go ahead, Spirit-san.”

“Okay. I’ll say it then. Well, it’s something I’ve said before, but I wanted to say it properly. At least once.” She took a deep yet silent breath, then smiled. “I love you, Naoki-kun.”

I stared back at Spirit-san, unable to move or speak. Didn’t she say she had proclaimed her love to me out of a zealous and partly-staged eagerness? It didn’t make any sense for her to be saying this now. We both knew nothing would come of those words. As a supposed onmyoji my ultimate aim was to exorcise her. Spirit-san’s own goal was retribution for whatever influence she had in the deaths of her fellow villagers. And my real hope was just to be rid of her, as cruel as I recognized that was. Our courting charade was over with and it was time to begin parting ways.

Spirit-san chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry if I surprised you. But it’s true, and I wanted to say it while you could still see me. I wanted you to know I really mean it.”

I let my hand go limp so that she would let go. She automatically complied and clasped her hands on her lap again.

“It’s a bit hard to find a happy response, considering what we have to do,” I said.

“I’m not expecting you to feel the same way about me,” Spirit-san said. “I mean, I’m a ghost. It’s probably not even possible for things to work out between a ghost and an exorcist.”

It’s not possible for things to work out between a ghost and a living human being, let alone an exorcist. But if you recognized that much at least, why would you bother to fall in love? None of it made any sense.

“Isn’t it more likely you just think you’re in love?” I asked. “Your nature as a ghost is likely compelling you to believe you feel this way.”

Spirit-san’s smile grew a little more at these words. “Maybe! Is there really a difference in the end though? People’s hearts make everyone fall in love, so perhaps it’s all the same thing.”

Perhaps indeed, but I was still confused by Spirit-san’s actions. I felt bad enough as it was having to abandon her, but now I had to do so right after she confessed her love to me for real? It felt so unlikely, and all too cruel.

The first real ghost I ever dealt with, and I was being completely destroyed from the inside-out—and in ways I had never anticipated. Everything this ghost did had taken me by surprise to some degree. There was no planning for this, and perhaps no reasonable way to deal with it at all. I gripped the oar a little tighter and forced a response.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t return your feelings. It’s impossible.”

Spirit-san’s smile lessened a little, but she didn’t stop smiling. “That’s okay. Like I said, I never expected you to. I’d never expect anyone to.”

Once I maneuvered the boat a ways, Spirit-san disappeared. Of course, she was still sitting there in front of me, but somehow it really did feel like I had lost her.

I clenched my teeth. Though I knew Spirit-san hadn’t left, my mind was still capable of entertaining the possibility.

It didn’t offer me even the slightest semblance of relief.

* * * *

Once I brought the boat to shore and tied it up, Spirit-san’s voice returned to my head to thank me once more.

I’m really sorry, if all this is too much…

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned to expect unusual things in this line of work.”

I can help you with finding the ghosts, she went on. You will need a memento of some sort from each of them, right? I researched this a bit after I died…

A ghost learning the ways of a ghost from a book? I really wanted to point out the sheer absurdity of it all, but I wasn’t one to talk.

And indeed, some methods of summoning ghosts did involve items left behind by the deceased—particularly items they held a special attachment to. Other methods specifically required an item involved in the individual’s death. These could resonate with particular spirits in some way, and many exorcists supposedly could contact spirits more readily through rituals involving such items.

I didn’t really want to go around asking villagers for stuff belonging to people who died there. Most people wouldn’t like the idea of a random stranger trying to summon the ghosts of their loved ones. Especially if the purpose was to appease the ghost of said loved ones’ killer (inadvertent or otherwise).

“You have specific items in mind?” I asked Spirit-san.

Yes, I can lead you to them. They shouldn’t be hard to get a hold of.

That was nice to hear, I supposed, but there wasn’t anything I was going to be able to do upon acquiring these things. A dead end. What would Spirit-san do upon discovering all her planning was for nothing? I didn’t fully understand her way of thinking, and I was hesitant to learn more.

Walking through the forest once again, I tried to piece together some kind of plan. Perhaps there was nothing to be afraid of. Perhaps Spirit-san wouldn’t do anything bad at all.

But could I really take that chance? She’d proven herself unpredictable more than a few times these past couple days. And in that time, she grew unnaturally attached to a complete lie. I couldn’t foresee things going well at all once she realized I wasn’t a real onmyoji this entire time. I probably deserved some kind of punishment for leading her on like this, but I personally wasn’t nearly as anxious for retribution as she was.

I stopped near a large maple tree and took a long look at it. There was something that stood out about it, but it took me a minute to piece it all together. There was a bit more space between it and the other trees in the area. The gnarled and leafless branches were thick, and some were even situated near the ground. They branches curved up toward one another in a way that could easily facilitate climbing.

Did you see a squirrel? Spirit-san asked.

“No, even better,” I said. “This is a very auspicious tree. A strong kami must dwell within it.”

Really? It doesn’t seem that—

“And if we appease this divine spirit, luck will be on our side. The more spiritual energy we come in contact with, the more prepared I will be to find those ghosts you’re looking for.”

Sounds like a good idea. Is there anything I can do to help?

“This ritual will work best if you help out, actually.” I set my pack down and took out a long, thin slip of paper. “I’ll write an omikuji for good luck, and you can tie it to that tree. While you do that, I can set up some talismans around the vicinity.”

You want me to climb the tree?

“This ritual will be most effective if the omikuji is tied at the very top of the tree,” I said. “Will you be able to climb up there? You might need to set the paper down on the branches as you climb, since you won’t be able to hold it the entire way.”

Okay, I’ll give it a try.

Once she left my body I wrote out a short message on the slip of paper for her. I held it out and the paper floated from my hand, and on toward the lowest branch of the tree. The maple was a good ten meters tall, so I had plenty of time to work with. Hopefully Spirit-san wasn’t afraid of heights.

I tied some ofuda to the base of the tree, then looked up to the wobbling branch Spirit-san was evidently on. “I will place some talismans on a few other trees in the area. Don’t read the omikuji until you’ve reached the top of the tree, okay? Or rather, wait for me to tell you when to read it.”

She couldn’t respond, but I was pretty sure she would follow my instructions. I was the supposed expert on this sort of thing, after all.

The stage was set for my departure. I couldn’t help but feel sad that I was leaving without a proper good-bye, but this was a basic fact of life for those resigned to wander the land aimlessly. You don’t stick with anyone for very long. And everyone goes on with their own lives just fine without you.

I put on my pack and set off down the trail. It would be some time before Spirit-san realized I was more than a short distance away. She still had to finish climbing up the tree, and then she would wait a while for me to come back, believing I was still setting up talismans around the area for whatever ritual it was I had made up.

Eventually she would grow bored and read the omikuji without my permission, at which point she would receive my message: I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, Spirit-san, but unfortunately it’s impossible for me to find ghosts or accomplish anything ghost-related at all. Once I conclude my business at the mansion I will have to search for work elsewhere. If I come across a proper onmyoji I can direct him to your village, but otherwise there’s nothing more I can do for you, other than suggest you reconsider your plans in general. I’d rather you not suffer, if you can help it.

That was the best I could come up with on the spot. It was a pathetic attempt to smooth things out after the fact, but it was the safest option I could think of.

I walked at a brisk, steady pace. There was no need to run. And there was no need to worry. This was going to work out. Or rather, it was going to work out as best as one could hope, given the circumstances. I didn’t need to dwell on any matters concerning Spirit-san anymore.

I decided to find the nearest inn past this village, lie down, and get some much-needed sleep. Spirit-san might go looking for me, but she would go looking at the mansion if she does—and then after that, the village.

And then what? Wait for another onmyoji to appear? What would happen to her if a real exorcist showed up? I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to return to the familiarity of my unstable yet un-supernatural lifestyle.

I needed to sleep. You don’t have to feel anything when you’re asleep.

* * * *