The shrine is larger than it looks from the outside. The wooden floor is carefully swept and the furnishings austere at best, though the place can accommodate five more people easily. There is no indication that anyone else visits the shrine, located as it is within these forests unspoiled by paths.
But the dolls terrify the visitors as they enter the shrine.
Like those in Yoko Taneda’s room, they are everywhere. They stare down at the three from glass cases made in every conceivable size and shape and form.
(One doll, two.)
They are dressed in kimonos of varying colors and designs, some with hair done in a complicated coif, while others have hair left loose and flowing. Tarquin makes a strange sound and steps back, while Callie is unable to stifle her gasp. The old woman looks amused and rattles off another fresh string of Japanese.
“I apologize if our dolls make you feel uncomfortable,” Kagura translates for her. “We use these dolls for most of our rituals and exorcisms.”
“My wife used to collect dolls very much like these,” Tarquin’s father stammers.
“She was one of us, your wife. The Taneda sisters were two of the greatest exorcists of their generation.”
“You must be mistaken. My wife is no exorcist.”
(Twenty-five dolls, twenty-six.)
“There are many things your wife neglected to tell you.” The old woman sounds disapproving. “Yoko was always a dutiful student, but her decision to marry and leave us came as a surprise. And then there was that business with Chiyo.”
She shakes her head and makes a small psshing noise. Callie wonders why the name sounds familiar.
“Dad”—Tarquin’s words come slowly, unusual for him—“I remember this place.”
His father and Callie stare at him. “But that’s impossible,” the man says.
(Ninety-one dolls, ninety-two.)
“It is not impossible,” Kagura translates for the old woman again. “What I am about to say might sound fantastic to you, Halloway-san, but I speak the truth. Little Tarquin has been here once, many years ago. His mother brought him when he was only two years old.”
“I remember her mentioning that she wanted to take a trip with Tarquin once while I was away on business. It was the last time I saw her before she…she…”
(One hundred and eighty-three dolls, one hundred and eighty-four.)
“Before she went insane,” the old woman finishes for him. “I remember you, Tarquin-chan, though you do not remember me. You were very well-behaved. Many of my other sisters babied you incessantly during your stay. If we’d only had the foresight to know what would happen to your mother, we would have asked her not to bring you at all.” The old woman sighs. “We must hurry, though, to ensure that you do not share the same fate.”
(Three hundred and six dolls, three hundred and seven.)
“What do you mean? What’s going to happen to Tarquin?” his father asks in alarm.
A knowing look passes among all four miko. “We have heard of your young son’s sickness.” The old woman is being deliberately misleading. “We know that the doctors in the city will not be able to heal him with their modern medicine. But we are gifted in the old ways, and we would like to try.”
Tarquin’s father, a stronger believer in these modern medicines than in tradition, looks unconvinced by this, but he does not wish to sound ungrateful. “Tarquin’s a lot better than he was in Tokyo,” he does concede. “I don’t see why we can’t stay for the time being. I am thankful for any help you can give.”
(Five hundred and sixty-two dolls, five hundred and sixty-three.)
“My name is Machika. This is Saya, and Amaya. You already know Kagura. You are all free to stay for as long as you like in our humble home. Yoko’s family will always be welcomed here.”
“If you don’t mind,” Tarquin says, still staring at the dolls, “I’d like a room where there isn’t anything soulless looking back down at me, for a change.”
Much to his relief, the guest rooms hold none of the seven hundred and seventy-seven dolls of the Chinsei shrine. There are seven more futons laid across fresh tatami mats, and one small wooden table. The other mikos do not speak English, either, though they smile frequently and appear eager to assist. Tarquin’s father hesitantly gives Yoko’s urn to the old woman, Machika, who accepts it with peculiar sadness and regret. “Dear Yoko,” she murmurs, “if only you had listened.”
She turns to place the urn reverently on one of the larger altars, while the other mikos stand silently and say nothing. Some time later, Callie watches as they chant and toss handfuls of Yoko’s ashes into the thick foliage that surrounds the small shrine, and she wonders how many dead shrine maidens cover this tiny clearing.
It soon becomes clear that the Chinsei shrine is self-sufficient and has little reason to interact with the other locals. The mikos show them their garden, where small herb and vegetable patches satisfy their requirements for food, as meat is not consumed inside the shrine, much to Tarquin’s consternation. For other basic necessities, the miko Kagura explains, she is often sent to nearby Oku-Yagen, or even to Mutsu when supplies in the nearby hamlet are lacking, as they sometimes are. The mikos spend their days cleaning the shrine and gathering at certain hours of the day to chant sutras to cleanse both body and spirit. They do not mention the woman in black or the onryuu in white as Kagura had, and Callie wonders if only the younger girl possesses this ability while the skills of the older shrine maidens have grown weaker over time.
The next two days are spent in pleasant inactivity. All the mikos dote on Tarquin, who is uncharacteristically embarrassed by all the attention, much to his father’s and Callie’s amusement. They are invited to partake of the hot onsen springs. Tarquin and his father go first. When they return, it is Callie’s turn.
Kagura and another one of the mikos named Amaya accompany the girl on her first visit to the hot springs. “There are three open-air onsen in all of Yagen Valley,” Kagura tells her as they begin their twenty-minute walk. “The Meoto Kappa-no-yuonsen is the only one that offers dressing rooms and showers for visitors. It costs 200 yen, but from the Chinsei shrine, it will take nearly an hour’s walk to reach, and another hour to return. You would be tired and exhausted by then, and this would negate the bath’s soothing effects.
“Kappa-no-yu is the second onsen and free of charge, though there are no changing rooms. The third and nearest onsen is where we will be headed. No one has thought of giving it a name, perhaps because they wish it to remain as unspoiled as its surroundings. But we have always called it the Chinsei-no-yu among ourselves, for we are its most frequent customers.”
Chinsei-no-yu is exactly how the miko describes it. There is a view of the nearby rapids, but no enclosures or rooms to change in. Kagura and Amaya show little inhibition, eagerly shedding their clothes while Callie, blushing furiously, gingerly follows suit. Among these springs, it seems, visitors are required to shed their modesty as well as the rest of their clothing before stepping into the water.
“Do not be so shy,” Amaya encourages in Japanese, and Kagura translates for her friend. “You must rid yourself of all your Western modesty when you come to our hot springs. To embrace the Japanese culture is to follow in the customs of the Japanese at onsen. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Finally stripped down, the three girls enter the hot springs. Callie gives a soft little sigh of contentment the instant her skin touches the water, the constant worries and concerns plaguing her during the last several days melting away upon close contact with such comfortable heat.
They sit in companionable silence for fifteen, perhaps twenty more minutes, simply luxuriating in their baths. “I’m afraid there is another reason we have asked you here,” Kagura finally says, breaking the lull. “Douglas Halloway-san does not believe in talk of spirits and rituals, and Obaasan fears that the more we talk of what we do, the earlier he will leave and take Tarquin-kun along with him. That we cannot allow to happen. If the boy leaves Yagen Valley, he will soon wither away and die.”
Callie suddenly feels cold, despite the hot water. “What can I do to help?”
“You feel differently, do you not, Callie-san?” Kagura asks eagerly. “That is why Obaasan has instructed us to bring you here, so that we may explain about Chiyo without fear of being overheard by Douglas-san.”
“Chiyo,” Callie echoes, remembering. “Mrs. Halloway mentioned her once.”
“She was our sister, a kuchiyose like us,” Amaya says, Kagura translating quickly. “But she was Yoko-chan’s biological older sister, her true oneesan. You must wonder how we are able to support ourselves, living in such a lonely place where few people pass through.” Callie nods. “We make medicine from the herbs we keep in our garden, and Kagura goes into town to sell them. But there are also many who still believe in the old ways, and there are those who are still afflicted by the old curses. When people become possessed by the demons and spirits that abound, they come to us.”
“What do you mean by ‘possessed’?”
“The Japanese believe that everything has a spirit.” Kagura takes up the tale. “Mountains, trees, even the smallest of stones. When funeral rites are performed poorly, the spirits are unable to move on into the afterlife. They return to the family and loved ones they left behind, often to haunt them. Sometimes the deceased takes possession of a favorite item of theirs during their lifetime, and sometimes they can even possess a family member or a close friend. Sometimes they can physically harm a person or, in rare instances, kill. All onryuu are capable of this, though their methods may vary. When this happens, their victims come to us. We expel the spirits and transfer these demons into our dolls as a substitute.”
Callie stares at her. “Do you mean to say,” she asks slowly, “that the dolls in the shrine all possess spirits?”
Kagura is reassuring. “Not all spirits we exorcise are necessarily evil. Many are simply lost souls, confused by their deaths and unable to move on, and we help guide them on their way. The Obon is a festival celebrated every October to honor our ancestors, and at this time every year, we cleanse the possessed dolls by burning them through another special rite. By doing so, we release their spirits back into the underworld. Until then, we serve as their caretakers.”
“But…but the spirit haunting Tarquin…”
“Yes,” Kagura says sadly. “Her name was Chiyo Takeda. Among us miko, she was the most powerful. Her specialty lay in exorcising the most vindictive of ghosts—the evil spirits who have come specifically to do harm to the living. But sometimes dolls cannot contain the fury of the worst of these demons. So she began using her own body as a sacrifice.
“For years she was successful. Her own spirit was strong enough that she was able to house these ghosts within her without suffering the consequences until Obon, where she would then successfully purify herself of them. But she grew too proud, Chiyo-sama did. She boasted that she could trap even the King of the Underworld himself. Obaasan tried to talk her out of saying such foolishness, but she was unrepentant. She thought herself capable of handling anything.”
Kagura closes her eyes. “And then the nightmares began. She had them almost every night, and she became prone to sleepwalking. She nearly walked into the Ohata rapids once and would have died, had Yoko not followed her out and saved her. Her personality began to change, too. Chiyo-sama had always been very gentle and compassionate. Now an uglier side of her surfaced. She would abuse many of the younger mikos and physically hurt them.
“When Obaasan found her cutting the heads off some of the small squirrels and birds around for sport—the Chiyo we knew loved all living things and would have died before she allowed them to come to harm—she knew that they could not wait for the Obon festival for Chiyo to be purified. I was only nine years old when it happened, and still I remember it clearly. I remember her madness.” Kagura shudders.
“There was Chiyo, squatting in the dirt over some poor eviscerated pigeon. She cared very little for her appearance by then, and her hair hung in tangles around her face, her eyes starting out from her head. She was like a demon herself.”
The mikos fall silent, remembering. Callie shifts uneasily.
“The older sisters staged an exorcism to force the spirits out of Chiyo and into a doll especially reinforced to contain them,” Kagura finally says. “It was a disaster. Not even the strongest, holiest doll we had could bear her taint. I was too young and was therefore forbidden to attend the ritual. But from my room I could hear her, and I could hear some of the mikos who had been driven mad by her. That terrible, terrible laughter…” She, too, shivers.
“After some time had passed, Obaasan entered my room, quite pale and drawn. All she could tell me was that Chiyo was dead, and that the demons plaguing her had finally been subdued, but at great cost. They had been naive, she said, to believe even the strongest of dolls could substitute for Chiyo. When demons have experienced a taste of a powerful human vessel like Chiyo was, dolls are nothing to them.
“Poor Yoko was married by that time but aware of Chiyo’s growing decline. She insisted on coming to the shrine that day, and Tarquin came with her. When the ritual went wrong, she had to act quickly. None of us were pure enough or strong enough to become the next sacrifice—no one but her own son, Tarquin-kun. The more innocent the vessel, the stronger its ability to contain. Yoko sacrificed him to prevent Yagen Valley from becoming a place haunted perpetually by the ghosts and demons Chiyo had unleashed. But to have brought Tarquin-kun along, knowing full well that the ritual could fail… Perhaps she herself knew it might come to that.”
Again she falls silent. Only the soft bubbling of the hot springs mars the quiet.
“That’s horrible,” Callie whispers, aghast.
“So you can say that Tarquin saved us all, and that is why he is treated the way he is by the others,” Kagura says with a small smile. “Yoko tried cleansing him at the Obon festival, but Chiyo’s spirit did not leave. Perhaps it was the guilt she felt that drove her mad, that drove her to attempt to kill her own son. As a last resort, one can purge a malevolent spirit by killing the human vessel it possesses.”
At the look on Callie’s face, Kagura quickly adds, “We do not intend to kill Tarquin. But innocence is lost as one grows older, and the spirit that was once Chiyo is now fighting to break free of him. Obaasan says that we must act quickly, sometime within the next few days, if we are to rid Tarquin of her malevolence forever.”
Amaya says something in rapid-fire Japanese. Kagura responds in kind, and the two argue for a few minutes while Callie sits across from them, feeling uncomfortable.
Finally, Kagura shakes her head and turns to her. “Amaya-chan also wants to know about the onryuu that has been following you around.”
“I don’t know much about her, only that her name is Okiku. From the old Japanese legend?”
Amaya is nodding, looking satisfied. She speaks again.
“Amaya-chan can see her, too, as well as I can. She also does not feel any enmity coming from the onryuu, which we both find odd, but I suppose that is not uncommon with long-lived spirits. We believe that objects become personified after one hundred years of existence. They begin to have their own thoughts and feelings, and are venerated as kami. It is the same with ghosts—they become stronger, the longer they exist in the mortal plane. If this is truly the Okiku of the legends, then she has existed for more than three hundred years. It is fortunate she appears to be more benevolent than others that come to mind.”
“On some other occasion we would try to appease her ghost, but Tarquin-kun’s ritual must take priority.” Kagura hesitates. “You are more than welcome to leave before it takes place, if you wish. Obaasan feels that you ought not to be involved in this for your own personal protection. She thinks it is unfair for you to be here and to put yourself in danger for something that does not truly concern you.”
“Tarquin is my cousin,” Callie says. “And I’ve seen the woman in black myself. If my presence can help in any way, then I would much rather be there.”
The two mikos watch her, this time with newfound respect. “You are a very brave woman,” Kagura says. “If I had a choice myself, I would choose to run.” She looks over Callie’s shoulder directly at where I am standing and nods to acknowledge my presence. I incline my head but do not move.
“Kami willing, we might survive this yet.”