Yūta took the card from Kikue, then said with a smile, “Your emails have always really intrigued me. I mean, you’re living in Himeji, and the character in your name is the same as in Okiku’s!”
Then, looking flustered, he went on, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I’m kind of into ghost stories, you see.”
Kikue smiled compassionately. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. People often remark on it. When I was small, we’d often take school trips to Himeji Castle, and every time we’d pass the Okiku Well on the way to the exit, all the kids would laugh and call me Okiku.”
Kikue hadn’t minded having a name similar to the ghost in the story, or even being teased about it. If anything, she was kind of proud to share one of the characters in her name with Okiku. The reason was simple: Okiku was incredibly popular. Visitors on their way out of Himeji Castle could be guaranteed to flock around the Okiku Well, peering inside it and raising their voices in excitement. It was almost unheard of to see a person walk straight past. Whatever they might have said about her, everyone knew who Okiku was, and there was something about that well that people found impossible to ignore. Her popularity was so great that it was surprising they hadn’t started selling Okiku merchandise in the castle gift shop. It seemed rather special to Kikue that the legendary well, which she had always considered a fictional element in a story, really existed in the city. The Okiku Well brought together the unremarked and the remarkable. It was kind of amazing.
“I can imagine. I’m from Himeji too, so.”
“Oh, really?”
“Our offices are in Kobe, but I commute from here. I’m just heading home now, so I thought I’d drop in on the way. I mean, I am genuinely sorry that there was a plate missing, but you know, with you being Kikue and this being a plate, I found it impossible to resist . . .”
Yūta smiled at her, laugh lines appearing around the corners of his eyes. Reflexively, Kikue found herself stealing a glance at his left hand to check for the presence of a ring—even though she knew that many married people these days didn’t wear wedding bands, and it really meant nothing.
“Also, did you know that the Okiku shrine is just around here?” he said.
“The Okiku shrine? No, I had no idea.”
“I guess most people don’t know about it, even those who live in the area. It’s just a tiny little shrine, right over there. It’s really worth a visit. They’ve got a gravestone for her, with the words resolute woman engraved on it.”
“‘Resolute woman’?”
“Yes, that’s what it says. Kind of cool, right? I can show you one day, if you’d like. Not that it’s far enough that you’d need showing especially, but I like it there, and I’d love you to see it.”
“Oh, um, well, yes, that’d be great.” In an attempt to compose herself, Kikue moved the box Yūta had brought over to where the other plates were stacked and began to count them again in jest.
“One, two . . .”
In an eerie voice, Yūta started counting along with her. “Three, four, five . . .”
Smiling, Kikue went on, more playfully than before. “Six, seven, eight, nine . . .”
Their eyes met, and together they said, “Ten!”
Their peals of laughter echoed through the little shop.
Kikue locked up the shop and set off east with Yūta, pushing her bike. They had carried on chatting until, before she knew it, it had been time for her to close up for the day. Her encounter with Yūta had been a bolt from the blue, but Kikue figured that such things could happen to anyone at any time and decided not to be surprised by it. When they emerged onto the main road, Kikue bade goodbye to Yūta, who was headed south. She got on her bike and made her way north. They had already made arrangements for their next meeting.
As Kikue pedaled away, Himeji Castle loomed ever larger in front of her. Kikue gazed up at the castle glowing so white in the sky, her cheeks now tinged a vivid red.
On High
Tomihime gazed down at the castle town spread out beneath her with an expression of utter boredom. She was so high up that despite the windows on all four sides being covered in mesh, she could see far off into the distance whatever the weather happened to be doing. From the south-facing window, she could see the honmaru and ni-no-maru—the innermost and secondary citadels. Past the moat was the main road that led to Himeji Station and, beyond that, a strip of distant sea. Tomihime knew this scene like the back of her hand. There was nothing even remotely arresting about it. Looking up at the blue sky, where the clouds and the factory smoke coexisted amicably, Tomihime let out a big yawn.
The castle was filled with the footsteps of visitors wearing the Himeji Castle slippers they had been given at the entrance. Shuffle shuffle shuffle, they went. Tomihime listened to the endless, sluggish sound with disgust. Shuffle shuffle shuffle. Shuffle shuffle shuffle. This was what it was like all year round, from the moment the castle gates opened in the morning to the moment they closed in the evening. It had become particularly bad since the renovations had finished; everyone was desperate to catch a glimpse of the castle’s new look.
In retrospect, the renovation period had been blissfully quiet. The workmen had gone about their job with care, and the castle had been entirely shrouded in protective cloth for the duration. Tomihime had felt sufficiently at ease for the first time in ages, and had popped off to visit her younger sister, Kamehime.
To separate
