No Priest Wants to See Your Ugly Face

I sprawled on the floor of my room, surrounded by four electric fans pointed directly at me. The kaiju costume clung to my skin, a second sweaty layer I couldn't escape. Little Shit had finally grown proper armor plates, but he still threw a tantrum every time I tried to take it off.

"It's too hooooot," I droned into one of the fans, my voice warping into a robotic whine. "And these summer assignments are killing meeeee."

"Obon is here agaaaain," I continued my fan language. "Time to clean with Gran Graaaaan."

My voice caught on that last part. Cleaning during Obon used to be fun, back when Dad was around. He'd always make it into a game, hiding snacks for me to find while dusting. Now it was just another chore, another reminder of his absence.

Anyway, Sae was gone when I woke up. Last night she'd been grumpy, muttering about how her superiors were forcing her to take time off.

"You deserve a break though," I'd told her.

The look she gave me made it clearly wasn't the response she wanted. She'd promised to be back later today to resume her monitoring duties, but her tone suggested she'd rather wrestle an A-grade kaiju than take a vacation.

"Even Sae-chan gets days ooooff. Must be niiiiice."

Eventually I hauled myself to my feet, lured downstairs by the lingering smell of rice porridge. My stomach growled the moment I spotted the pot still sitting on the stove. But before I could reach it, Gran Gran's voice rang through the kitchen.

"Put your back into it, you useless space heater!"

She was hurling handful after handful of trash straight into the Furnace Kaiju's open chest cavity. The kaiju stood perfectly still, apparently resigned to its new role as our personal incinerator.

"Ah Ryūka! The priest will be here soon for house blessing. Clean, now!"

I scarfed down the lukewarm porridge into my mouth, barely tasting it. The faster I ate, the sooner I could get the cleaning over with. Rolling up my costume sleeves, I grabbed a dusty rag and started wiping surfaces.

"Not like that!" Gran Gran swooped in like a hawk. "You only push dust around. Watch! Small circles, then wipe clean." She demonstrated.

"It all gets clean either way," I muttered, but copied her technique anyway. Living with Gran Gran meant doing things her way.

After what felt like hours of wiping every conceivable surface, Gran Gran finally declared the house acceptable. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned holding a cucumber and eggplant.

"Time to prepare horse and cow for ancestors," she announced, already starting to stick toothpicks into the vegetables to create legs. These would become the Shōryō Uma and Ushi Uma - the spirits meant to carry our ancestor's souls back and forth during Obon. The cucumber horse would bring them here swiftly, while the eggplant cow would carry them back slowly, extending their visit.

I watched Gran Gran's wrinkled hands work the eggplant, each toothpick leg perfectly spaced. Meanwhile, my Ushi Uma looked like it had been trampled by a real horse, legs crooked and all.

"Pah, what kind of horse is this? Looks like it went through meat grinder."

"No one's going to see it except us and-" I stopped, the word 'Mom' catching in my throat.

"Enough with the long face. Take yours to kamidana in back. Your mother waiting long enough."

I carefully lifted my mangled eggplant horse, Little Shit trailing behind as I made my way to Mom's altar. The small wooden shrine held her smiling photo, surrounded by incense and fresh flowers. I placed the Ushi Uma in its circular dish, adjusting it until the legs at least pointed downward.

Sorry it's ugly. I thought, imagining Mom's laugh. You know… I've been practicing trumpet lately. Gran Gran says it sounds like a dying cat, but I'm getting better. Maybe... maybe someday I could play for you.

My throat tightened. And don't tell Dad, but I'm close to getting a penthouse in Tokyo. You can see Mt. Fuji right from the window on clear days. You would love it there.

"Ryūka! Stop dozing! Priest coming any minute!"

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling the rough fabric of the costume scratch against my face.

Gran Gran hobbled over to the Furnace Kaiju. "You! Into garage, now! No priest wants to see your ugly face during blessing!"

The kaiju ducked its head, letting out a whimper that made the walls shake as it slunked toward the garage.

I turned back to Mom's altar for one final check. The flowers needed straightening, and maybe I could fix up my Ushi Uma-

The vegetables. Both of them. Their heads were... gone. Clean bites taken right out of the offerings meant for Mom. The only connection I had left with her during what could be our last Obon ever.

A retching sound drew my attention. There was Little Shit, gagging. Green and purple chunks of vegetable decorated the floor around him as he tried to un-eat them.

"You... Those weren't for you."

Little Shit perked up at the sound of my voice and trotted over, tail swishing. He stopped in front of me and let out a 'feed me melon bread' chirp.

"Get out."

He tilted his head.

"I said GET OUT! Just- just go away!"

Little Shit flinched. His eyes uncrossed, fixing on my face with hurt confusion. He backed away slowly, then turned and squeezed through the gap where the Furnace Kaiju's makeshift tree repairs met our wall. The last I saw was his tail dragging limply behind him.