Chapter 7: All's Well That Ends Well, I Guess

The morning light that poured onto the veranda of the abandoned shrine was gentle.
Bathed in that light, Sayuri lay on her back.
Resting atop her faintly translucent body was the nekomata, curled up softly and looking perfectly content.

“…Hey, kitty. Why are you sleeping on me?”

Sayuri, now awake, spoke in mild protest.
Yet her voice carried neither anger nor exasperation—rather, there was a playful tone to it.

“I thought it was quite the fine cushion… but to think it was you all along.”

The nekomata spoke in a theatrically exaggerated tone as it stood up and lightly hopped down to the ground.

“Still, I didn’t know ghosts could sleep.”

“I don’t have to, really. But this time, you know—things got kinda rough.”

Sayuri floated up slightly and stretched her arms and legs with a satisfied ease.
Her body was still translucent, yet her outline had grown firm and distinct.

“How did you know it was there?”

When the nekomata asked, Sayuri turned around lightly and, while floating in the air, lifted the cat in both hands.

“Bound ghosts, you know—they can’t leave what they’re attached to. The range depends on the person. Sometimes it’s a single rice field, sometimes an entire mountain, stuff like that. That girl said she couldn’t take even one step, so it had to be right under her feet.”

“Is it really that easy to see through a bound ghost?”

“I may not look it, but I’ve been a ghost for a long time.
Once I talk for a bit, I just kinda figure it out.”

Sayuri raised the nekomata above her head and smiled brightly.

“—I wonder which of them wanted to make the prettier blossoms bloom.
Wanted to show them… or to see them?
Now… I guess we’ll never know.”

Sayuri set the nekomata down and sat on the edge of the veranda.
When the cat climbed onto her lap, she gently stroked its fur.
Then, slowly, she turned her gaze toward where the cherry blossoms had once bloomed.

There stood the cherry tree, quietly, its trunk split in two.

“So… its time had long since run out, hadn’t it?”
The nekomata also looked toward the cherry tree and spoke softly.

“Yeah… I wonder which of them did what, and for whom. I don’t really know—
but you shouldn’t drag people into it who have nothing to do with it.”

Her expression dimmed a little.
Her gaze remained fixed on the cherry tree.

“I told you before—no one’s to blame.
That was the kind of supernatural being it was… that was the kind of existence it had.”

“I see. Yeah—
you can’t have hanami anymore,
but I hope they’ll hold a memorial for the two of them—
for that girl and the cherry tree.
All together, lively, just like that day.”

Sayuri spoke with a mischievous smile.

The nekomata gave its tail a big sweep once, then let its shoulders relax with a soft sigh.

“I don’t mind. Give them a reason, and they’ll get lively.
They’d do it every day if they could.”

The nekomata narrowed its eyes as it spoke.

At those quietly returned words, Sayuri nodded.

“They can’t leave this place, so… make it as lively as you can for them, okay?
I really think they’d be happy.”

Sayuri’s gaze shifted to the nekomata.

“Gotcha!”

She grabbed the nekomata’s two fluffy tails with both hands.

“Don’t grab my tails!”

He raised his voice out of reflex, but after letting out a sigh, his expression softened in resignation.

“Hehe—sorry, okay?”

The bright smile on her face was the same one he had seen that night of hanami—the first time he’d ever seen her smile.