22.i The Heavenly River

~ Anari ~

Anari tried the line again. They put her on hold for the hundredth time. She couldn’t even get through to Tabitha.

The spider had been up all night at this. Stagnant call lines were not something new in the Ninth Heaven, but Anari had clearance. She was a Next Dimension agent. There was no explanation that she could think of that would excuse so much of this inconvenience.

All Anari wanted was some answers.

Why are we throwing garden parties for the nobles?

These were the same people who protected the gangsters and extortionists that Anari was tasked with bringing in or taking out when directed. There must have been a reason behind that event in the Garden of Immortal Peaches. But Anari would never know until she got through to Sun Bai.

(You’re on vacation. You’re on vacation.)

Anari shook her head as she cut the line. Be that as it may, it would not automatically revoke me of my priority when the front office is taking calls.

And the office was open, that much was clear.

The spider was torn. What if she abandoned Ritsu to investigate and it turned out that there was nothing wrong? If she was being honest with herself, she did not want to go back to work. Yet she kept finding all of these ways to make excuses to return.

(Face it, sweetie. You’re incapable of letting yourself have a good time.)

Anari snorted at her inner saboteur’s jab, but in the end, she found that she couldn’t come up with a retort. Refusing to acknowledge that the saboteur’s words had any truth to them, Anari remained torn. By the time she had made up her mind, the sun had already been up for a few hours.

A part of Anari had hoped that Sun Ritsu and the rest had been impatient enough to leave her behind. But when the spider emerged from her paper space, she found the three spirits waiting for her. She was so caught off guard by the relief and soft satisfaction in Sun Ritsu’s expression as she stepped out into the valley, which currently looked like a bus stop.

So taken was Anari by Sun Ritsu’s morning greeting that she let him take up her hand in broad daylight. She didn’t let go of him even as all four of them made their way towards the ferry to cross the Heavenly River.

All night Anari had been on edge, but Ritsu’s warm inner radiance immediately settled her nerves.

“Sun,” Anari bowed her head as they walked together, “I didn’t meet you to watch the sun come up. I know you wanted to—”

“The sun will come up tomorrow,” Ritsu said without much thought. He gave Anari’s hand a little squeeze until she looked up. He smiled at her. “And the day after that. We’ll have plenty of chances.”

When the four spirits reached the ferry boarding front desk, Anari was surprised by the spike in the fees to cross the river. She was even more surprised by their new policy — all spirits must be registered with the Divine Highway Association in order to purchase tickets to ride ferries.

“We’re not rolling out the policy until next season,” the rabbit spirit at the ticket booth explained, “but you’re going to want to start registering early. As it will be required by law.”

Anari asked if they could have the paperwork to get started. The rabbit told them to wait. When he came back, he only had three forms.

“The pig is one of us,” Anari explained before Ham Song could go off the rails. “He’s just unglamoured.”

The bunny leaned over the side of the register, tilted his head, and wrinkled his nose at the scowling, huffing pig spirit down by Ritsu’s ankles.

“Even without glamour, I’ve never seen a pig walk on all fours.”

Ham Song bristled. “Well, have you ever seen a pig write a strongly-worded letter? Fetch me one of those registration forms!”

The rabbit’s expression went from curiosity to disapproval. “I’ll have to talk to my supervisor about this.”

Ritsu came up to the counter and pointed to something on the form. “Says right here that we can bring attendants as long as they are registered under our name.”

The rabbit paused, his dark shiny eyes glancing back and forth between Ritsu and the pig.

“Well-meaning Sun, are you saying that this pig is under your service?”

Ritsu nodded. “Yeah, I don’t go anywhere without him. He’s my holy peach factory.”

Anari’s eyes darted around as she prayed that no other sun clones were near. She would later warn Ritsu against broadcasting Ham Song’s barfing potential so flippantly like that.

Ham Song snorted unhappily at Ritsu’s description, but Bodhi crouched, yanked him by the tusk and whispered something harsh in his ear.

Whatever it was that Bodhi said got Ham Song to promptly shut up.

The rabbit took a moment to consider. “That should be all right.” He handed over the forms and requested their payment for the ferry.

Before Ritsu could retrieve his wallet, Anari took control and brought out enough to cover everyone’s fee.

The monkey fixed her with stunned, wide brown eyes.

“Anari.”

The spider quickly dismissed her kindness. “It’s the least I can do since you waited for me this morning.”

Ritsu opened his mouth to reply, but he was distracted by the rabbit leaning over the side again to call out to Bodhi.

“Excuse me? My good monk? You cannot bring that wine onto the ferry.”

Bodhi said something in return, to which the rabbit gave a hard shake of his head.

“I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. Kawaii Village is a dry municipality, as is the entire Rabbit Province.”

Anari and Ritsu paused to register Bodhi’s reaction. Things escalated fast enough for both the spider and the monkey to realize that this ferry ride would be anything but normal or easy.