On the Idle Hill of Spring

True to his supposed confession, Theo made an attempt to get to know Ema. 

His first questions didn’t reveal anything that surprised him, or that he hadn’t already gathered. It was more to attempt to occupy her with questions, which might so some way to easing her apprehensions. A relaxed asset was naturally more cooperative. 

The first stop they settled on was the obvious option of karaoke, a little out-of-the-way but not too much for on-foot. 

She was skittish at the counter, but her relief at his insistence that he cover the fees was obvious, though she still looked uneasy as he forked over the cash. Probably anxious not to run into anyone who would know them, Ema ushered him in hastily into the room they reserved.

There was a bit of back-and-forth on the mic before Ema assented to take the first song. She chose to set things off with timid renditions of pop songs; understandable, in front of the foreigner who was suddenly cheering her on.

Then it was his turn. Since this would be his first time singing real-deal karaoke, Theo thought that it behooved him to sing the songs of Ema's country. And so he ended up putting on Japanese period songs he had taken to during his “cultural research”.

“The infantryman’s color is the color of the cherry blossom,
Look, the cherry blossoms fall on the hills of Yoshino!”

If Ema’s incredulous reaction and subsequent laughter when he went full blast to the songs out of time was any indication, he must have been quite the sight to see. 

But Theo wasn’t one to put a digit under one-hundred percent into marching music, even if his one-hundred was closer to a string of bomb blasts than actual singing. What he lacked in musicality, he made up for with bombast.

No doubt encouraged by Theo’s willingness to embarrass himself, Ema changed her queued songs to something that was apparently more her tune. They were ballads with schmaltzy lyrics, but she sung them fondly. Her voice wasn’t bad at all, Theo thought. 

“The wind blows cold
On withered grass like us.
When my tears fall hot,
Then moon, you dip them up.”

After a ballad or two, she was also budging to the mood Theo was setting with his cheers and enthusiastic maracas-shaking. With a few more under her belt, she gestured along with the song more and more, and was more confident with her singing, even if she couldn't hit all the notes. That was more like it. 

In becoming more bold, she might have counted on Theo's general ignorance of Japanese music as a shield, but the ballads' old-timey visuals on the TV gave their age away. Just as much of an odd choice as his songs, but least she seemed to be enjoying herself now. 

Theo himself fully appreciated the value of a good break when one laid soul and sanity on the line for a day-job. Granted, he wasn’t in the habit of getting blasted as hard as some other guys he knew. One just had to be careful that you didn’t overdo it, or get caught when you did. 

By the time they had their fill and sung themselves hoarse, it was getting to be dark outside. To cap off their first hang-out, Theo insisted that they visit one more place.

 

They came to a shrine on a hill, mounting the long flight of steps lined with stone posts and guarded by torii gates. Theo’s suggestion had another purpose; he had had an eye on this particular landmark, in this part of the city, since his first map surveys.

About halfway, he looked behind and saw the beginnings of a view. As yet, he could only see boat masts peeking over the housetops. A cambered roof belonging to some warehouse reminded him that this wasn’t far from the site of the raid. 

His looking back had allowed Ema to get ahead of him, and he got a look at her from below just as she turned to see what held him up. Against the clear night sky, her figure was washed out by the starlight– the same light giving her eyes a strange transitory quality. 

It hit Theo then. He remembered his earlier observation when he first Ema in the classroom, that wisp of a vague feeling of his. Something about Ema’s presence was odd. It was almost like she would dissolve if he averted his eyes for longer than a few seconds. 

Theo shook his head. That was absurd; Ema was lively as any normal girl. Concluding that what he had seen in her eyes was but a trick of the light, he dismissed the line of thought entirely and continued the climb.

When they passed under the final torii to reach the top, Theo’s conjectures about the hill’s tactical value were confirmed. The shrine commanded a panoramic view of the river as it fed into the Pacific, and the boats moored alongside the town’s harbor. 

There was only minimal activity as the fishing port wound down for the night, the comparatively fewer folks who preferred night fishing not due to be back until the early morning.

The shrine itself looked to be a modest example of its kind, but well looked-after. The only standout from the typical setup, as Theo understood it, was a single wooden bench looking out to the dark blue sea, placed in the shade of a camellia tree to one side and a light pole that bathed both in orange light on the other. 

At this hour, they were the only visitors. The sounds of clapping turned his attention back to her. Ema had just finished offering her respects when she spoke. 

“This is a very very old shrine, dedicated to the goddess of estuaries. Boat owners and fishermen often visit to pray for a good catch– or fair winds and following seas, as they say.”

“You and your dad, too?” Theo asked. She nodded enthusiastically. 

“I like to stop by whenever I can.” 

Ema made for the bench and took a seat. Theo followed her, but preferred to stay on his feet. 

She pointed to the constellation of white glows low on the horizon, explaining that they were squid boats working. For a moment, they looked more real than the stars themselves, a sight that an obscure part of his mind was primed to attribute to the supernatural. He chuckled silently at the thought.

Theo didn’t really know what to think about there being eight million gods for every rock and chopstick, nor could he be sure if Ema really did believe in that, though he himself was privileged– or perhaps cursed– to be aware of existences that might fit her conception.

But to so simply talk to such a god seemed absurd to him; higher dimensions are not kind to human minds rooted in three-dimensional space and linear time, and the “favors” doled out from there on high were cut from that insane cloth. In his experience, the preferred method of communication was to the tune of a couple hundred pounds of high explosive from the sky.

Well, it wouldn’t do for a foreigner to so bluntly speak his skepticism of the natives’ beliefs out loud, much less about his highly classified experiences. Instead, Theo chose a more accessible conversation starter. 

“So let me get this straight, Kurose-san. You’re telling me that besides helping your dad on weekends, you also do part-time work on the weekdays?” 

“That’s right.” came the reply from the now receptive Ema. 

“You have to be real tough to keep up with that kind of schedule. That’s amazing.”

“It’s nothing like that, really! I’m just doing my part in the family.” 

“Well, if that’s how hard the daughter works, then imagine how much more the parents… actually, what does your mother do?” Theo asked. 

To that question, Ema’s face fell a fraction. She muttered a curt answer that trailed off to unintelligibility before averting her gaze. 

“She’s not with us...”

Sensing that he had blundered onto a sore spot, Theo acted quickly, if not very subtly. 

“Hey, if you tell me the name of that place where you’re doing that part-time job, maybe next time I can drop in while you’re working, huh?”

Ema obliged him with a surprisingly brisk response: “Inasa-masu” it was called, an izakaya fifteen minutes’ walk from Hokishi High. She added nothing else to that, and kept staring off into the distance. 

Suddenly, the sitting Ema became sad to look at. Theo hoped that the faux-pas hadn’t just killed the rapport he’d been building up with his asset in the cradle. 

“You sure do have a lot to deal with. Makes me wonder why you bother with so much charity.” he said, almost as an afterthought.

Ema stiffened at that, responding with sudden trepidation. “Why’s that?”

“Ah– I mean I’m sure it’s already hard enough balancing school and part-time work and all.” Theo hastily added.

Ema remained unconvinced. Leaning forward, she pressed her line of questioning.

“That’s not all you meant, is it?” she asked again. Ema had her eyebrows knit together, sounding like she was winding tighter which each turn of the screw that was every word. 

Theo was caught off-guard. This was the most upset this girl had been with him so far. Did he step on another landmine, or was this girl more perceptive than she let on? He landed on his answer, hoping that she wasn't referring to anything sensitive. 

“Alright, alright, you’ve got me– I’ve got something to fess up to. I saw what happened in the classroom, that day I– uh– confessed. With you and those girls.”

“Oh?” came Ema's puzzled reply, as if she had been expecting another answer. Theo continued. 

“You let em’ walk all over you like that, they’ll never stop.”

There was a delay as she caught up to the new flow of the conversation and what it was he was referring to. The tension that Theo thought he sensed building up until that point had went out of her all at once.

“Eh– that was nothing, really!” she said, seemingly back to normal. 

Theo continued, to get away from the previous topic. Now that he had started, he also took the chance to speak his mind on the encounter. 

“And here I thought there would be more respect for a daughter of a fisherman around here.” he grunted, taking a seat on the other end of the bench before continuing. 

“I read up a little on Hokishi before I got here, you see. But it doesn’t take all that to figure out that life in a coastal town like this, fishing’s a keystone. That’s only really changed recently, hasn’t it?” 

Theo watched the harbor as he kept talking, tracking a single white light as it drifted into the jetty.

“That the city endured to move on to other things, ain’t that thanks to you guys? Even now, you risk your necks by going out to sea, so what the hell do those jokers know?” 

Ema seemed taken aback by the turn their talk had taken. Doubtless, as a daughter of a fisherman, she had a lot to say, but she kept it short. 

“But, we owe a lot to the others, too. Not everyone’s cut out for the sea, but that’s not the only important thing there is to do.” she said. By her tone, she meant it. He could grant her that at least.

But that didn’t change the fact that her and her father and all the other men and women of the sea in this town were being taken for granted, in his mind.

“And now those people act like they’re better than you, for all that you’ve done for them. When that happens, there’s only one question you gotta ask yourself– are they really worth it?.”  he asked.

“Doing good doesn’t need a reward.” she said back. 

Theo scoffed inside at the boilerplate answer, which bled through to his voice. 

“I do good by my friends. None of mine would turn their back on me.” 

To that, Ema had no reply, though it was plain she wanted to say something; their voices gave way to the teeming of insects and the lapping of waves.

It was a few awkward seconds before Theo broke the silence. 

“Sorry for steering the conversation that way.” 

He took the opportunity to practice his apology-bowing before opening with a new tack.

“How about this– and this is actually something I’ve been itching to ask for a while. Just why exactly were you in such a hurry that first day?” 

Somehow, Ema seemed even more reluctant to answer this seemingly benign question. When he managed to coax it out of her, it was Theo’s turn to be taken aback.

Ema's story started when she had volunteered to help in the preparations for the opening ceremony, the day before the official start of the school year. Everything had went smoothly enough, until her group was volun-told to clean the principal’s office, which had doubled as an ersatz storage room for some event over the summer. 

Their principal was real old; old enough that he used false teeth, and regularly left his dentures on his desk while he accomplished his customary grandpa siesta in the other room. It was only all too unfortunate for the old codger that he put the plastic case close to a stack of all too similar-looking empty bento boxes. 

“Putting the principal’s dentures in with the plastic garbage, and only realizing it the day after!” Theo repeated, before chortling. For the first time, he saw Ema pout.

“I told you it was something ridiculous. That’s not fair– you promised you wouldn’t laugh!” she protested. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s just too much. At least you made it, right? Real lucky that pickup day for plastic wasn’t until the day after, huh? Though, the poor bastard could probably taste the week-old food in his mouth the entire time he was onstage… “ 

Theo had to hold back another chortle. Now he looked back on the principal’s humdrum speech at the opening ceremony in a completely different light.

It was no use; he started wheezing, much to Ema’s chagrin. Though by the end she was letting off a few titters of her own. For his part, he must have laughed loud enough to wake up the shrine's patron. 

Not long after they settled down, Ema excused herself. Theo briefly considered offering to walk her home, but stayed put as she went off into the night. 

He doubted if there was anything that would stop her from getting home, and he had already achieved his objectives for the day. His efforts at insinuating himself with the girl should suffice, though he would have to wait until tomorrow to see if it was successful overall. 

He turned his back to the sea and started walking. The evening was still young, and Theo still had one more stop to make.

***

Ema didn’t like the way she had reacted to Theo-san’s questions. Why– out of all the times she could gloss over that subject– she couldn’t manage it that time? Her going quiet probably said more than if she had said anything herself.

And for a moment there, she thought that he would say something about pushing herself too far. There was much that Ema could forgive, but she wouldn’t stand for anyone, much less some busybody foreigner telling her that she couldn’t...

Ema shook her head. He didn’t mean anything by it, she was sure.

For all the fussing over the confession, things had turned out rather well. She hoped that he was satisfied with her compromise; if the price of appeasement was one of her rare days-off, then she could live with that.

And it wasn’t really a waste of time; karaoke was actually a whole load of fun. For sure, there was a part of her that was happy that a boy was taking an interest in her, but also for taking her mind off school and work for a short while. 

Thinking forward to her work, Ema decided that she really would have to turn him down if he wanted to extend another invitation tomorrow, though. Further thought of tomorrow took a little wind out of her sails as she felt a pang of apprehension. So many people had seen her walking with the the school star, and she hoped that it wouldn’t cause too much trouble. One way or another, she really would have to turn him down, won’t she? 

She assured herself in the end that it won’t be so much of a big deal as she was fearing. Surely, everybody could tell that they were just friends, right? 

It was a short walk from the shrine to the modest single-story she called home. She was already past the gate to their tiny front yard before noticing something below her. As she got closer, she picked something out in the dim light, at the foot of the door. 

At first she thought it to be an oversized coin, but it was probably more accurate to call it a medallion. 

Ema picked the object up. It was made from two metals, a smooth gray for the center and a gnarled yellow that made up the outer ring. It felt wet to her fingers, but there was no real moisture to brush against. Closer inspection revealed strange characters carved into the edges, distinctly not kanji or kana. 

The relief that dominated the medal’s face was vaguely fish-like, but not like any fish she was familiar with. For a moment, it reminded her of the stuff the bottom trawlers sometimes caught: alien-looking creatures– all slime, spindly limbs and yawning eyes– that rarely failed to gross her out, but only for a moment. Something told her this was something else altogether.

The next she knew was her father’s voice calling to out her.

She realized then that she had spaced out– couldn’t remember how long she stood there, just staring at the thing. Reflexively she hid the medallion in her skirt pocket, in time for her father to swing the door out and ask her what she was doing frozen like that. Besides that, he also wanted to know where she had been off to, knowing that she didn’t have work today. 

When he found out just who it was she had gone out with, her father’s mild worry was replaced with a knowing look. He knew how much that annoyed her, and any thoughts of the medallion passed from Ema’s mind as she fended off a new round of teasing during dinner. 

“Since you two are apparently getting along so well, why don’t you let me have a look at this buster next time, huh?” her father said in-between mouthfuls of sardines, “guests” of the catch, over rice. 

“I told you, there’s nothing going on. And how are you supposed to do that with work?” Ema humored her father, thinking that he couldn’t possibly be serious.  

“By inviting him to dinner here next time you two go out, of course.” he answered dryly. 

It was all she could do not to gag on her miso.

It wasn’t until later, when she getting ready to go to bed, that she remembered the medallion.

Digging it out of the pocket of her skirt, she braced herself for whatever it was that had her spellbound earlier. The medallion disappointed her expectations. Looking at it now, she wasn’t sure there was anything to distinguish it from the old things she’d seen on school trips and photos, since she didn’t exactly know how to tell a real artifact from a replica. 

But the metal along the edge couldn’t be anything but real gold. Ema entertained the idea of pawning it off for money, which might go some way to paying the bills for the month. But her father would undoubtedly be suspicious, and she doubted that the thing would go for much, and so she scrapped that thought. 

After giving it some more thought, she figured that surrendering it to the nearest police box was the way to go. However this thing had made its way to their doorstep, it was clearly somebody else’s property. 

But that could wait. Aside from work, she also looked forward to a return to restful sleep. Ema left the medallion on her bed stand, and let herself sink into the bed.

That was when her dreams started.