Chapter 5.5

Before we left Sapporo by train, Natsuko handed me keys and a letter.

“These are the keys to your new apartment,” she explained. “The address is in the letter, along with other instructions.”

“Why do I have to change rooms?”

“Reiko’s taking mine.”

“And why can’t I stay with her?” I sighed. “Fine… because I meet her for the first time in ten years, right?”

“Good girl. Now let’s go.”

Natsuko was quiet on the train. She watched the countryside fly by and only spoke when we needed to make a station transfer.

“How do you always know what’s going to happen?” I finally asked. “You told me you can’t see the future.”

“I can’t,” Natsuko shook her head, “but the destiny of this country has been altered. It’s been etched into the flow of the imaginarium. You almost can’t see it, and there is little that any of us can do to change it now. All we can do is plan against it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed. You don’t remember the past before you met me. You don’t remember your parents. Your friends. You barely remember last winter.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “What does that mean, Natsuko?”

“You’re a person, Fujiko,” Natsuko said. “You’re just a little different, modeled after me, and that’s what allows us to change the outcome.”

“How?”

“By nudging destiny in a different direction,” Natsuko said. “I intend to change two events in destiny’s timeline. The first event is my death, which will force Castle Gramarye to leave, for a time. The second event will be up to you, in ten years time, when the Egregore inevitably return. That cloudy memory of yours, think of it as a cloak that hides your presence from the imaginarium. It’ll give you the cover to not be swept up in the fates of others.”

“Shouldn’t we go to more people to help if this affects the whole country?” I asked. “What about Fang Fang? Or Reiko?”

“Everyone has their own parts to play, knowingly or unknowingly.”

“And what if I don’t want to kill you?”

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Natsuko shook her head. “This is my choice, Fujiko. In ten years, you’ll know exactly what choice you’ll have to make.”

“If that’s the case,” I said. “You should’ve been nicer to Reiko before you left.”

“Don’t worry,” Natsuko smiled, weakly this time. “I’ll meet her again.”

By the time we reached Tokyo, it was almost midnight. The imaginarium’s density felt much stronger here than in Sapporo.

Is it because there’s more people here, I wondered.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To prevent a castle from landing,” Natsuko murmured.

Natsuko guided me through streets I had never seen before until we reached the main road and Natsuko fetched us a taxi. The roads felt jammed together, like sandwiches that spilled mayonnaise all over the plate. The concentration of imaginarium intensified the further we moved into the city center, but more importantly, something lurked in the sky.

I could feel it. It was hidden above the clouds, maybe even higher, past some unbreakable firmament and drooling its imaginarium onto the landscape.

“Is that Castle Gramarye?” I asked.

“Yes,” Natsuko said “Quite the presence, isn’t it?”

“How are you going to prevent it from landing?”

“The castle is coming because it expects the arrival of a new Egregore,” Natsuko said. “If that doesn’t happen, the surrounding imaginarium should scatter, and the Egregore will leave.”

The taxi dropped us off at the back of a hotel. Here, the pressure of the imaginarium was at its strongest. Natsuko held my hand as we weaved through shallow mists and fog.

Beyond the intersection down the block and a row of trees was a wide moat. A bridge leading to an old wooden gate rose over the water. To my surprise, Fang Fang stood there.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I’m here to see things through,” she replied.

“Fang Fang,” Natsuko greeted her friend with a hug. “Thank you for everything. Watch over her for me?”

“In ten years time, sure,” Fang Fang shrugged. “Are you ready?”

“Let’s do this,” Natsuko nodded. “Stand back, everyone.”

Fang Fang drew her silver sword and positioned herself between me and Natsuko. I rushed forward, but Fang Fang’s arm blocked my path.

“This can’t be the end,” I struggled. “Is this how it ends? We don’t even get a proper goodbye?”

Natsuko didn’t answer.

Instead, she looked up to the sky and began to recite.

“I offer this primal body,
Vessel of an everflame,
Let my blood burn eternally,
The souls of this country in exchange,
To forbid thy fortress passage,
I hereby declare,
Return, Oh Those Who Come Down From Heaven.”

The sky above Tokyo stirred. The fog hugging my knees and ankles began to recede. The imaginarium around us rushed towards Natsuko, who inhaled it in measured intervals as if she was meditating.

The clouds parted. In the space that appeared there, I spotted a stone monolith turning its gaze towards us. The oculus at its peak slid open and revealed a clock dial with its hands rotating in opposite directions.

“Hi,” Natsuko smirked. “Don’t mind me as I take all your imaginarium with me.”

The eye of the clock tower did not respond. It watched for the next several minutes as, from Tokyo’s periphery to the city center, Natsuko vacuumed imaginarium until the air was dry and light of all magic.

I could see the process taking its toll on her. Natsuko, who always looked so calm and collected, sweated in the depths of winter. The veins on her arms bulged. Her muscles stiffened.

As the last drop of imaginarium entered her body, the clock tower above us stopped its frenetic movements. It waited and waited, waited for something that it knew should happen but didn’t. Its hands rattled against the surface of the dial as if the clock tower was roaring against its prison.

“That’s right, Gramarye,” Natsuko laughed. “The imaginarium you created to ascend Reiko is all gone. What will you do now?”

A ray of exotic mauve washed over the bridge. It was like watching those late night cartoon shows with UFOs. The clock tower released an energy beam that swallowed Natsuko whole.

“Natsuko!” I cried. “Fang Fang, what’s happening?”

“The castle’s trying to take its imaginarium back,” Fang Fang murmured. “Natsuko was right. The imaginarium has a motive, a will of its own.”

“What do you mean the castle? It’s just a building!”

Fang Fang leveled her silver sword. Through the intense lightshow, I saw Natsuko. Her silhouette was outlined by amber filaments. A hand clutched her chest, while the other lifted towards the castle.

“Incantation!” Natsuko shouted. “Fang Fang. Now!”

Natsuko clenched her raised hands into a fist. Imaginarium from her body repelled the beam. Her magic traveled skywards, negating the violet shaft until it reached the face of the clock tower and evaporated.

Castle Gramarye roared. From the ground, it heralded like distant thunder rumbling, but I could tell this was no natural sound by the anger now emanating from the skies. There came the subtle screech of imaginarium blooming at the clock’s center, ready to fall again.

But before that could happen, Fang Fang flashed out of sight, and the next thing I knew, her sword was buried in Natsuko’s chest. Blood splattered the wall by the gate.

“What?” I asked. “I-I thought I was supposed to…”

Fang Fang cradled Natsuko’s head. When she slid her sword out of her body, the wound closed behind her.

“There’s no pain,” Natsuko gasped. “You’re too good at this Fang Fang.”

“Don’t waste your last few words,” Fang Fang sighed.

Up above, Castle Gramarye fell silent. The stone seals moved over the clock, and the clouds moved back to obscure its form beyond the firmament.

I rushed to Natsuko’s side. I clutched her hands. They were already growing cold.

“I was supposed to do it,” I said.

“You didn’t think I'd actually let a child commit murder, did you?”

“Then why say it?” I opened my eyes and pressed them against her fingers. Tears and imaginarium dripped onto her palm.

“You know why,” Natsuko coughed. “I’ve given you a heavy burden, Fujiko, just like I’m about to hand Reiko hers. I will ask for no forgiveness. I will only ask that you two look after each other when it’s time.”

Fang Fang’s ears perked. Mine did too. There was movement, flashes of imaginarium surging towards our location and fast.

“We must go,” Fang Fang hissed.

“Bye, Natsuko,” I whispered.

 “Go, Fujiko,” Natsuko smiled. “Destiny is a wonderful thing when you're allowed to live as you see fit.”