2.25 いつまでも MIDNIGHT SESSION Part 2

“I’m honored that you pronounced my name correctly but please pay no mind to that nickname.” It felt way too cringey to have a goddess of death call them by a nickname that was written with the characters for “martyr.” As cool as they thought it was when they came up with it, it was impossible to try to explain it to an ancient deity. “And I do apologize for any damages I may have caused during my last visit.”

Junna had mostly only torn up the area around the dozens (possibly hundreds) of hells run by King Enma, but Yomi had suffered some property damage, they were sure.

“That is of no consequence.”

Junna stood quietly, staring at their filthy socks. Well, this pair wasn’t worth saving when they got back to the surface world.

When they didn’t comment, Izanami continued.

“One cannot bring back the dead. To put it another way, one cannot reverse death. Death is an inevitable impurity in the world. When it is encountered by the living, they must be cleansed, lest they gather misfortunate impurities and meet their ends as well. One cannot be cleansed of death itself; such is the natural law. It should not, under any circumstances, be reversed.”

“I see you’ve found out what my little rampage was about… but was it really so wrong to try? I know death is inevitable and that it isn’t a bad thing, but was it a sin to try to save someone? Is a human’s time of death set in stone when they’re born? Was it destiny that the entire Isshiki clan had to go like that? Was it fair?”

At Junna’s shift to a more aggressive posture, Izanami sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her stone shell bed. The edges of her kimono were dirty and tattered, her feet bare.

“It had nothing to do with destiny. It is simply the fact that living things die when they are killed, whether by the elements, illness, man, beast, monster, or their own hand. They stay dead. Whether they come through Yomi on their journey to their next life depends on circumstances, but death is unavoidable and unstoppable. It is inevitable.”

“Considering how unstoppable and inevitable it is, it sure is a taboo topic. How many rituals does Japan have to clear impurities and how many of those impurities are associated with death? If death is so natural, why treat it with disgust and fear? You’re not even supposed to visit shrines for weeks after a funeral! Being dead isn’t contagious.”

Junna knew that was a weak argument. If someone died of a transmittable illness, it would make sense to quarantine. The impurities from attending a funeral were usually just negative emotions that could simmer and attract negative energy. But wasn’t that a side effect of treating death as such a tragedy?

“You, among the living, a human child, cannot begin to understand what it means to die. Inevitably, we fear that in your resurrection ritual, Isshiki Ibuki became very aware of it and has been suffering because of it.”

“That… was definitely my fault,” said Junna in a quiet voice. They felt the temperature in their core cool rapidly. All the anxiety they had was scooped out, leaving them hollow.

It wasn’t about death at all; it was about Junna trying to reverse it.

It wasn’t about the views of society or the cosmology behind it; it was about Junna doing something terrible to the person they loved most.

Izanami stood and gazed down at Junna with her empty eyes. Junna did not move except to stare at their socks again.

“What a surprising change of demeanor. We see that despite your arguments, you recognize your mistake.”

Mistake.

Saving Ibuki’s life could never be a mistake.

Bringing Ibuki back to life — well, back to the world of the living… how could Junna have known the two things would be so very different? Mistake was too soft a term; it was outright a sin.

Their whole body felt heavy, their strength deflated as soon as they admitted their fault out loud. The bag of oolong tea bottles almost dragged them to the ground. They lifted it to examine it, then held it up in front of them. Wasn’t it rude for them to visit without bringing some kind of offering? It wasn’t fancy, but the sentiment had to count for something.

“Would Milady like some tea?” They asked. Izanami seemed to ponder this. She glanced briefly at Inunaki, who had folded himself into seiza, eyes cast down.

“Very well.” She motioned to her left with a wide sweep of her kimono sleeve to reveal a short and polished set of stone stairs. Junna bowed and took the stairs to join Izanami, who had taken a seat on the shell bed once again. They sat on the edge across from her.

“It’s not very comfortable,” Junna said, cracking open a bottle of tea. A pair of skeletons rose from behind the bed, carrying a tray of the most ancient tea cups and tableware Junna had ever seen. One of them placed a cup in front of Izanami, who waited patiently as Junna held the bottle. “Oh, apologies…”

They poured a portion of the tea into Izanami’s cup, and then their own once a skeleton placed it next to them. They cautiously took a sip only after Izanami had and said nothing after returning the cup to the shell bed.

“Do you have something you wish to comment on?” Izanami asked.

“I’m sorry the tea is cold…”

“We are dead. The temperature and flavor are indistinguishable to us. We simply found your offer pleasing.”

“Is that so…” Junna immediately took another drink, acutely aware of how thirsty they had become in the bone-dry chamber. “I spoke out of turn earlier, Milady. I apologize.”

“We will forgive your disrespect with this offering.” Izanami, to Junna’s surprise, took another sip of tea. “But it will not get you out of the responsibility you have. Your Ibuki—” Junna’s Ibuki didn’t exist anymore, “—and her Isshiki family were skilled at creating shikigami from the corpses of animals.”

“Yes. That was one of their specialties. It was part of the reason they weren’t very popular, despite all the people they helped.”

Junna also believed it was the reason they had been massacred by curses and monsters. No one would have dared attempt such an attack on a powerful family of exorcists without using such a thing as an excuse.

“She’s been practicing this skill and nearly perfected it. She is close to being able to create human shikigami. Some of her current creations could be mistaken for humans.”

“What, like kemonomimi?” Junna regretted this joke answer as soon as they said it because suddenly, they knew exactly what had bothered them about the hosts of that noisy witching hour game show. They were dead, but not human. They were shikigami made from both animals and humans. Maybe they shouldn’t have mentioned it to Shigoro after all…

“That’s the natural evolution of the Isshiki technique,” Junna said with a short laugh. “I guess they aren’t supposed to be among the living either.”

“No, they certainly are not.”

“So this is about… that weird variety show or whatever that’s airing after midnight?”

“That is only one small part. Even if you were able to expunge those spirits from existence, it amounts to nothing if you leave the creator to their own devices.”

“Say no more, Milady, I already plan on taking care of it. I know, I’ve been dragging my feet, but I’ll get this done. I’ve returned to Tokyo for this very reason. I did this to Ibuki, so I will undo it. No one else needs to get involved.”

“That really isn’t your decision.”

“I have to try to live up to my name somehow, right?”

Junna had originally been and was still legally “Jun,” written with the kanji for “to be watered by.” Their parents intended it to be a cute addition to the surname “tea fish.” In their great wisdom as a teenager, Jun had started to use “Junna,” with kanji for “martyr.” They had considered the method they used to perform exorcisms as a way to take on the weight of the sins and emotions of dead spirits; they were one of the only people that used their method, so they also considered it solely their job. But now other people were involved. The rebrand suddenly felt very childish and pointlessly edgy to them. They’d been almost twenty at the time, way too late for a chuunibyou phase.

Whether Junna could stay on brand or not, they had indeed returned to Tokyo to speak to their mentor, Doikawa Touko, about the current issue.

And as much as they didn’t want to admit it, they had gotten lonely. It was hard traveling alone for so long. They had people they missed in their home city, even if they hadn’t mustered up the energy or mental fortitude to see those people yet.

Izanami said nothing and took another sip of tea. Junna tipped their head back and downed their whole cup.

“Regardless of who helps you or not, you will take care of it.”

Junna swallowed hard. “I will.”

“Is that why you returned to Tokyo?”

“Not the only reason…”

Wandering the country for two years without staying in the same place for more than two weeks took its toll. Junna wasn’t a physically active person by nature and some of the conditions they had lived in almost killed them. Even in the most comfortable places they stayed, Ibuki was never far behind. Therefore, with the second anniversary of Ibuki’s death date approaching, Junna had almost decided to ask for help.

Who was going to be able to help them? And who would even want to? Doikawa was a long shot and they were afraid of being rejected even if they were only requesting advice.

“I will take care of it,” Junna repeated.

“We trust you for now, else we would take care of it another way. The Heavenly Court has asked that we do so once already, but they would not like the measures we would need to take. We decided to invite you here, to warn you and allow you to take responsibility before resorting to more drastic measures. It seems they view us as your tutelary deity.”

So even the heavenly deities had been bothered enough to reach out. Junna felt offended for Izanami, who was never included among that group anymore. What were those holier-than-thou, high-and-mighty kami saying behind her back? Izanami was trapped in Yomi. There were entrances and exits, but she was cursed never to make use of them. Her husband had trapped her there after she tried to drag him back in, but that was only because he promised to get her out in the first place.

As the legend went, Izanami said this after Izanagi blocked the entrance to Yomi with an immovable boulder: “My husband, If you do not release me, I will kill one thousand living souls every hour.”

And he replied, pushing his entire weight against the boulder: “My beloved wife, if you do this, I will make sure one thousand five hundred more are born every hour in their place.”

Junna suddenly felt this issue might be more personal to Izanami than they had imagined.

What is Izanagi even doing these days?

The whole reason he’d had to trap his wife in Yomi in the first place was because he had gone down to take her home. Her horrid, decaying appearance had frightened him and so he’d left her. She wasn’t the kami of the dead, the ruler of Yomi, by choice.