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“My apologies, Yumeno-san, but I’m afraid we don’t have a single vacant room tonight. It’s a busy time of year, many people looking to visit family or attend some of the local holiday celebrations. If you’d like my honest opinion, I think you’ll be hard-pressed to find a vacancy at any hotel in town. You really must make reservations in advance.”
“Right,” Himiko muttered glumly, too shot through with dejected horror even to let the anxiety sink in just yet. “Thanks.” Ending the call with a sharp jab of her finger, she looked around the near-deserted side street she stood on, taking a breath of crisp winter air. She didn’t typically hold magic shows in such rural areas, but the offer had been a good one, and her master had been all about bringing joy to those who might otherwise be deprived of it. Seeing the smiles of a roomful of people, some of whom had never seen magic before, was always worth it. Healing their hearts if only for an hour.
But if she had known the only train out of town would be delayed until morning, she might not have accepted. At the very least, she would have made provisions in advance. Instead, she was stranded in a tiny, unfamiliar town, alone and with nowhere to stay. The hotel she’d just called was the last one on the meager list her search had turned up. Just to make sure, she tried to scroll down further, but no matter how desperately her cold fingertip swiped against the screen, there was nothing more to show. She’d exhausted her options.
“What am I going to do?” she muttered to herself, glancing up from her phone to cast her eyes around the street again. “I need somewhere to stay.” Really, street was a generous term for it, closer to an alley off one of the main streets. It was lined with a few modest stores and restaurants, too narrow for a car to pass and paved in heavily cracked asphalt. Down at the far end, near what appeared to be a stall selling croquettes, there was a small huddle of old ladies, looking like a throng of beetles in their matching, colorful coats.
A great deal closer to her, all in black and lurking under the shadow of an awning, was a tall, reedy figure, much closer to her own age from what she could make out—which wasn’t much, owing to the face mask, hat, and long, flowing hair. Sharp amber eyes were fixed directly on her, making her feel rather squirmy and uncomfortable, not to mention wondering how she hadn’t noticed someone loitering so closely on such a small street. It seemed almost like a magic trick, as if they’d stepped out of some hidden trap door.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament,” the figure said, striding toward her with long, confident steps. They could cross the full width of the alleyway in only a few strides and soon had Himiko backed up against a wall, though the overall impression they gave was one of overbearing curiosity rather than anything truly malicious. “And I think I may just be able to help you, if you have any interest.”
“Really? How? I’ve checked pretty much every hotel in town,” she replied, feeling her face twist into an expression of disbelief. Somehow, the very act of making any expression at all felt twice as humiliating as usual. The stranger was so impassive, so entirely hidden in sentiment behind their mask, that it felt somehow lesser, more animal, to display emotion herself.
They showed no signs—of course—of passing any judgment on the subject. They merely chuckled softly, raising a pale hand to their covered lips as they enjoyed a private moment of amusement. Himiko hadn’t the slightest idea what was funny about what she’d said, unless they thought she was just too stupid to take seriously, ending up in such a situation.
“Yes, I imagine you have. All those that have an internet presence, that is. My family runs a small inn, a traditional ryokan. I’m sure we could find a place for you if you wish.”
Almost before she could process what they’d said, Himiko was already nodding enthusiastically enough to nearly give herself whiplash, overcome with the relief of someone saved from the frightening dilemma of being out on unfamiliar streets for the night.
“Yeah, I do. Yes. That would be great. It was going to be a huge pain trying to figure out where I could kill time until the train comes in the morning. Please, take me to the inn.” Then, as if to dampen the impact of her all too obvious desperation, she added, “I’ll place a good luck charm on you and your family in thanks for lending your aid to one of Japan’s most powerful mages in her time of misfortune.”
Another quiet, airy chuckle could be heard from behind that black zippered mask. Himiko still didn’t know what was so funny about her, and in any other circumstance, she’d likely be starting to take offense, but she knew all too well that she needed the stranger’s help and couldn’t afford to drive them off with any complaints or accusations.
“A great honor indeed. It seems we’re both benefiting from our serendipitous encounter, yes? May I ask your name? It’s a bit of a walk home, I do hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, uh, it’s Yumeno. Yumeno Himiko. And yours?” She didn’t bother commenting on whether she minded the walk, focusing only on keeping up with their long, leggy strides as they started determinedly through the maze of narrow, winding streets. She did mind, quite a bit, but once again, her desire to complain about how much of a pain it was ended up quashed out of fear that they would turn her away if she proved to be too much of a pain.
“Shinguuji Korekiyo. It’s a true pleasure to make your acquaintance, Yumeno-san. You described yourself as a mage?”
The conversation meandered on as they walked, quite a bit more easily than Himiko might have expected. She did her best to pay attention to the route they took, wanting to try to remember the way back to the heart of town if nothing else, so she could more easily reach the train station come morning, but she found that Shinguuji’s demeanor, their manner that seemed at once so aloof and so gentle, was more distracting than she would have expected. She wasn’t entirely sure how they emerged from the paved thicket of downtown to find themselves on yet another little road, this one with few buildings dotted along the way.
Midway through recounting some of the varied places she’d held magic shows before, Shinguuji hanging raptly from her every word, they reached their destination.
It was a wreck. Himiko hadn’t been expecting anything too fancy, but the tableau before her went beyond merely being a modest accommodation. The courtyard was overgrown, weeds springing up wherever they could find purchase between the stones. The steps sagged alarmingly. The buildings themselves seemed shabby and unwelcoming, making her fear what she might find inside. But, with Shinguuji’s murmured assertion that “it isn’t much to look at, perhaps, but it’s home,” she was powerless to do anything but follow them through the front door into the graveyard of the main hall.
She might as well have stepped several decades into the past the moment she crossed the threshold. The modest lobby bore no signs of modern technology. No computer at the desk, no television mounted on the wall. Just quiet, traditional ambiance, marred only by the scuffed, dirty wooden flooring and the abandoned air of everything.
Lounging behind the front desk, nearly empty shelves a backdrop to her elegance, was a willowy woman with the same sharp amber eyes and long, glossy black hair as Shinguuji. She was clad in a gorgeous red kimono, fingernails and lips alike painted the same shade of scarlet. Before Himiko could say a word, the woman’s gaze flicked up from the book she was reading, finger holding her place.
“And who is this, dear Korekiyo?” Her voice made the ryokan’s temperature drop a solid five degrees. Himiko shivered and tried to discreetly look around for a thermostat. Was there heating running at all?
“Ah, onee-san... This is Yumeno. She needed somewhere to stay for the night until she can get a train home,” Shinguuji explained quietly, gaze on the dusty surface of the front desk rather than on her, as if averting their eyes in respect. “I offered my assistance to her. I trust you approve of this?”
The woman’s lips curled into a cheshire grin, too wide and too sharp. There was a barely-there smudge of red on her teeth, surely her lipstick, but Himiko could feel her stomach knotting up inside her. She glanced back to the door, which now seemed like it was miles and miles away.
“Oh, yes. You’ve done well with this one.” Only then did she look at Himiko fully, more than just a lazy, sidelong glance, and Himiko felt immediately pinned to the spot with the force of it. Where Shinguuji Korekiyo’s eyes were gentle, if eerily perceptive, their sister’s induced only fear and unease. “Wonderful to meet you, Yumeno-chan. I’m Korekiyo’s older sister, Shinguuji Sumire. I do hope you enjoy your stay. I’m certain we’ll be very good friends.”
“Yes,” Korekiyo interjected then, beckoning Himiko closer with a jerky wave of their arm. They were already starting to vanish down the hallway to the guest rooms. “Just as she said. We consider every guest a friend.”
Mumbling out a “nice to meet you” in return, Himiko scrambled to follow, seized by the irrational fear that if she allowed Korekiyo to fully leave her sight, she would find herself lost and alone with only the imposing presence of Sumire for company.
Much like the entrance, the hall and each doorway they passed seemed sad and abandoned. Spiderwebs were woven in filmy patterns in the corners. Dust gathered here and there, along with faded, long-dried smears of what Himiko dearly hoped was dirt, but seemed suspiciously reddish in tone. There was no sound but that of their footsteps on the creaky floorboards.
“Here we are,” they said, pushing open one sliding door near the end of the hall and motioning for her to enter. “I hope the accommodations are acceptable.”
She stepped inside, shivering a little, and toed off her shoes before setting foot on the tatami, which seemed to be in acceptable condition. Things were drab and barebones, but it would do for the night. The utter lack of any other guests was what disturbed her far more. “Thanks.”
“I can bring you a heater,” they offered hastily, staring at her tensely crossed arms. “And I’m sure you can borrow some pajamas from onee-san. I couldn’t help but notice your lack of luggage. Toiletries are in the bathroom.”
“Thanks,” she said again, offering a nod and trying her very best not to gawk too much at the room, the ancient looking tea cups on the table. “That’d be good.”
“Then I’ll return shortly.” With that, Korekiyo turned to the door, tapping a sliding lock clumsily mounted there. It didn’t seem very sturdy, but Himiko supposed it was probably the best that could be done with the traditional sliding doors. She knew many older ryokans didn’t have locks on the doors at all. “I’d advise you to keep your door locked at nighttime.”
As promised, it wasn’t long before there was a gentle knock on the door, which Himiko hadn’t yet closed. Korekiyo’s ominous warning sent a chill through her, but sunset light was still streaming in the window of her room. While she waited, she’d laid out the futon, neat as she could make it on the tatami. However rundown the majority of the ryokan was, the bedding at least seemed high quality.
“Come in,” she said, and no sooner had the words left her lips than Korekiyo was entering, space heater and folded stack of clothes in tow.
“Here we are. This should keep you warm, I trust.” Neatly setting the space heater on the floor by the low table, facing the futon, they plugged it in and pressed the power button. With a low grumble of effort, as if it hadn’t been asked to provide its services in quite some time, the heater kicked on, beginning to spit out warm air. There was a faint scent of burning, enough to make Himiko a little worried, but Korekiyo displayed no such concern, looking quite self-satisfied as they straightened up and presented the bundle of clothing to her with both hands.
She took it, fingers running over the soft fabric. A nice set of silk pajamas, deep green with pale pink flowers. A little big for her by the looks of it, but they’d be fine for a single night.
“Thanks. You’ll need all sorts of blessing spells to make up for your hospitality. You’re... really making this night less of a pain, so, thanks,” she mumbled, a little embarrassed by her own lack of eloquence in the face of Korekiyo’s presence. The heater still smelled rather alarming, but the space between them was beginning to feel a little less frigid, enough that she might soon consider removing her coat.
“No repayment is necessary, monetary or otherwise. Please accept it as a favor.” Before she could offer any sort of polite pushback, shocked that they didn’t even expect her to pay for the room before leaving, Korekiyo took up her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. There was no real contact between their lips and her skin, naturally, their mask providing a barrier between them, but the intention was clear, making her face grow much warmer.
“What? No, you can’t be serious. Of course I can pay you.”
“I’ll hear nothing of it,” Korekiyo insisted, holding her hand a while longer than necessary. Her other arm hugged the folded pajamas to her chest, the slide of silk against her fingers conjuring up images of an entirely different world, transporting her decades into the past. “I won’t accept your money, Yumeno-san, and that’s my final decision.”
She smiled at them, teeth catching nervously at her lower lip, and she watched the sparkle in those golden eyes. When they finally let her hand go, they touched the loose folds of their jacket, as if feeling for something hidden inside.
“I’ll fetch you for dinner shortly. Make yourself at home.”
Dinner turned out to be a respectable enough spread, if on the simple side. A spread of miso, fresh, fluffy rice, and tonkatsu, all still steaming when Himiko took a seat. Korekiyo was positioned across from her, with Sumire holding court at the head of the table. At first, she thought it might be a rather quiet, awkward meal, which she could have gotten through well enough. She was no stranger to social discomfort—back in her student days, she was nearly always ostracized, the kid who ended up eating by herself and pretending not to hear the way others were talking about her.
So, when the obligatory pleasantries had passed and the Shinguuji siblings began talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, she kept her gaze down on her food, focusing on the repetitive motions of her chopsticks rather than whatever private conversation was going on between them. Whenever she glanced up, she was discomforted to notice both sets of golden eyes on her. But while Sumire looked at her like a predator, a lion eyeing a defenseless gazelle, Korekiyo looked at her with worry. Almost as if they wanted to protect her. But from what?
And then, soon enough, she was the subject of more than just Sumire’s gaze. She was apparently very curious about her, assaulting her with a barrage of questions as carefully placed as knives. It made Himiko struggle not to slump down lower in her seat to hide from her, fingers trembling around her chopsticks. She didn’t know what Sumire wanted, only that something about her made the room seem colder, inciting all her most primal instincts to scream for her to run.
She ignored them, of course, doing her best to indulge all the polite inquiries about what she did for work, how she learned magic, where she lived, what her family was like. On and on, with Korekiyo occasionally interjecting but never managing to divert their sister’s attention for long. It was all perfectly hospitable, if ever so slightly invasive. There was no reason to feel so wary of the family so kindly letting her spend the night for free, even if the environment they lived in could be much better kept up.
All the same, after finishing a dessert of delicate strawberry cake, Himiko was relieved to retreat to the solitude of her room. It would be a long night without anything for entertainment but her phone and the deck of playing cards in her pocket, but she couldn’t stand another moment in the cozy, crumbling kitchen, being looked at like a mouse fresh for the taking.
The whole way down the empty hall of guest rooms, she could have sworn she still felt eyes watching her, although every time she glanced back over her shoulder, there was no one. The Shinguujis were, presumably, still cleaning up from dinner after insisting there was no need for her to help. She was a guest, Korekiyo had insisted. A friend, Sumire chimed in. Still, glancing out at the blanket of darkness beyond the windows, Himiko again thought crazily of leaving before morning.
Instead, she went and sat on her futon, shuffling her cards again and again until she forgot how to think at all.
When it started to grow later, she carefully locked the door. She made sure each and every window was latched, flimsy curtains closed. She could hear nothing, at first, but the faint sounds of traffic far in the distance or the occasional hooting of an owl. It was only when she was curled up under a heap of blankets on the futon, space heater turned off, that the other noises started, those far more difficult to explain.
The scratching of something at the windows, even though there were no trees close enough to the building. The slight rattle of the door, as if someone was trying to slide it open, although in the faint streaks of moonlight penetrating the curtains, she could see no silhouette of feet under the gap. Very distantly, too far away for her to possibly make out any individual words more than a vague perception of general meaning, she heard whispers. Women’s voices, issuing words of warning she couldn’t grasp. It was like trying to grab at motes of dust in the air. Completely impossible.
Himiko was unnerved though. All the instincts telling her to run, rising up like a tide within her, were just as easily countered by the fears of what might be outside trying to get in. Right where she was, behind a shoddy lock and hiding in her bedding like a child, could very well be the safest place to be.
Or all of it was nothing and the stress of the day was just getting to her. She couldn’t determine which was true, and that made it only more distressing.
After what must have been hours, phone turned off to preserve what little battery it still possessed, she finally fell into a light, restless sleep.
Equally uncertain was how long she managed to stay asleep. Far more clearly, she woke up in a panic, gasping for air as she struggled to sit up. Cold sweat soaked through those silky, too-large pajamas, making the fabric cling unpleasantly to her skin. She looked around in the darkness, seeing only the same shabby room as when she went to sleep, no signs of disturbances. No evidence anything out of the ordinary had occurred, but she was sure, so sure, that someone or something had been lying in wait, about to strike if she hadn’t jolted awake at the precise moment she did.
She washed up and dressed in semi-darkness, unwilling to wait past dawn to prepare her departure. Korekiyo still fascinated her, with their gently eerie demeanor and fascination with all things strange and supernatural, but there was something wrong at the ryokan. If not for her total lack of other options, she never would have agreed to stay there at all. Guilt gnawed at her about leaving without a goodbye to the person who really had been very generous to her, but surely they would understand, right?
Maybe she could write a note, she decided as she shoved the few paltry belongings she had on her into her purse. She just needed to find a notepad and paper out in the lobby, since there didn’t appear to be any in her room.
Himiko made it only a few steps down the hall before Korekiyo appeared in front of her as suddenly as a mirage. They’d stepped out of one of the empty guest rooms so smoothly she almost hadn’t seen them move, perfectly put together and made up despite the early hour.
“Ah.” They tutted softly, looking down the masked bridge of their nose at her. “Don’t tell me it’s already time to see you off, Yumeno-san. So early? You’re more than welcome to stay a while longer. As long as you need. Here, we like to say friends are welcome to stay forever.”
“Yeah, um, my train is really early, and I want to make sure I don’t risk missing it, so... I’ve really gotta go.” Mentioning the strangeness of the night felt impossible with Korekiyo’s searching gaze on her. Even tying it to their own somber guidance to lock her door seemed silly, childish. Like she’d misunderstood, if not dreamed the whole thing up entirely. She shifted from foot to foot, floorboards whining. Korekiyo flicked a long, loose lock of dark hair over their shoulder. For just a moment, their visage seemed to tense under the mask, like someone who knew very well that she was lying but knew just as well they couldn’t call her out on it.
“What a shame. But I suppose it can’t be helped. If you’re ever in town again, I do hope we’re the first you call.” One spider-fingered hand withdrew a glossy business card from a pocket, offering it to her without formality. Trying not to frown, Himiko took it, and just like that, the wisp of a mimed kiss visited across her knuckles again. From anyone else, it should have seemed at the very least a grating affectation, if not outright creepy. But from Korekiyo, who seemed like they’d stepped out of another time entirely, that sort of chivalry seemed to work. She was considering staying for breakfast.
“Of course. I really would like to see you again, Shinguuji. I’m really grateful for your hospitality.” As she said it, blindly tucking the business card into her pocket, she meant it. She would like to see them again, outside the stifling atmosphere of the old ryokan.
“Might I accompany you to the train station?”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I know the way,” she promised.
Multiple times on that walk, sun beginning to rise off in the east, she found herself looking back at the squat smear of the ryokan in the distance, no lights to illuminate its existence.