Grabbing Seiho’s wrist, Nagisa squeezed lightly, feeling the throb of Seiho’s pulse.Alive. Seiho returned the gesture and Nagisa searched his face, trying to understand his intentions. He was so oddly passive for someone stuck in such a horrible situation.
“We could make a run for it,” Nagisa proposed.
With a finger to his ear, Seiho replied, “Listen. Do you hear the silence? The lack of birdsongs and buzzing of insects?”
“Yeah. I noticed it last night too.”
“That’s the creature’s doing. Its powerful aura keeps this place devoid of animals. The quietness mesmerizes people. Attracts them. Curiosity, I guess. Or perhaps recklessness.”
“A bit of both.” Nagisa sighed, knowing exactly what a horrible idea it had been to come here.
“That’s how the creature captures them. It’s so quiet that any other noise stands out. That’s also how it knows if I leave. It senses my presence.”
“Does it sense mine?”
“No, it hunts its prey by sound. But it has no interest in hunting during daylight.”
“Seiho, I—” Nagisa started, then stopped. What was he going to say? He let go of Seiho’s hand, reluctantly.
“Leave,” Seiho said. “Leave this place and never come back. It’s not safe for you or anyone else here.”
Nagisa took a step back, looking from Seiho to the edge of the forest. Damn it. This man saved him and there wasn’t anything he could do.
“Go,” Seiho encouraged.
With heavy steps, Nagisa walked the rest of the way, alone. His heart constricted in anguish. He didn’t want to leave Seiho behind. Before stepping out of the forest, he turned around to offer a last goodbye. Seiho was still there, his shoulder resting on a tree, and he raised a hand. Nagisa raised one back and almost decided to return, grab him and get him out of that cursed place.
But when he blinked, Seiho had disappeared.
CHAPTER 3
Nagisa hurried along the path leading out of the forest and toward Osore-zan Buddhist Temple. Now, in the light of day, everything seemed so surreal, he had a difficult time believing it really happened.
How could Seiho cope with being isolated from the rest of the world? How come no one cared that a man was forced into servitude by a corpse-eating ghost? There was an entire temple full of shamans here. Had none of them sensed the monster lurking in the forest? Did they not care it killed people?
But what if it had all been a fear-induced hallucination? No. Seiho’s touch still lingered on his skin. It was real.
Coming to a halt, Nagisa turned and looked up the mountain. Hone-jo wasn’t as tall as an actual castle, but it was tall enough for part of its roof to be visible from afar through the tree tops. He couldn’t see it from his vantage point, though. Maybe the darkness and anxiety had made it seem bigger. Or maybe it had been another of the jikininki’s tricks just like it turned the hallways into an endless maze.
He resumed his walk. The green ground turned to a barren, gray one, full of little pebbles and occasionally cracks blowing up hot air. A strong sulfur smell permeated the air due to the high volcanic activity of the area. In the distance, smoke rose in the air from the fumaroles.
The shamans called this place the gates to the underworld. Nagisa had found the idea silly. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Going around the main building of the temple, Nagisa lowered his head and walked faster. There were tourists everywhere and he wasn’t in the mood for crowds. The temple, with its black curled roof, wooden walls and sliding doors had lodgings for overnight guests and even hot spring baths.
The criss-cross paths had piles of rocks and pebbles between them with colorful paper windmills stuck in the stones, spinning in the faint breeze. A few tourists were taking pictures of the scenery, while some prayed.
One of theitako—the blind shaman women of the temple—caught Nagisa’s attention. She was short and hunched, wearing a white kimono top over a darker one. She supported herself on a cane and stood still, her eyes closed, but her face following him as he walked.
A cold shiver went down his spine. There were so many people around, she couldn’t have possibly noticed him. And yet, her wrinkled face scrunched at him, and she raised her hand, gesturing for Nagisa to approach. He looked left and right, but no one seemed to pay her any mind. The way she singled him out of all the people spooked Nagisa and he broke into a jog, wanting to get away from her and from this place faster.
Reaching the main road, Nagisa called a taxi and climbed in. As it drove off he tried to focus on the houses and the shops passing by to keep his thoughts away from theitako, but more importantly, from Seiho. After all, why worry? It was something for theitakoto deal with, not him. He wasn’t a shaman and didn’t even believe in ghosts until last night. He kept telling himself this over and over again just to smother that thought at the back of his mind—you abandoned a man in need.
Only after arriving at the hotel did the pressure in Nagisa’s chest lessen. As soon as he stepped inside his room, one of his friends barged in.
“Nagisa, are you okay?” Asako exclaimed, coming right up into his face and examining him. “I was so worried! I thought something bad happened to you. You should’ve called me!”
Her shoulder-length hair was messy and uncombed, bangs sticking up. She was still in her pajamas, yellow long-sleeved blouse and pants, and her lower lip trembled. Nagisa felt awful for thinking Asako would pull a prank on him.