Cast:
Toru Yajima: A student at a university in Tokyo
Mari Kobayashi: Toru's girlfriend
Yosuke Mikimoto: A freelance photographer
Jiro Kobayashi: Mari's uncle, owner of the lodge "Spur"
Kyoko Kobayashi: Jiro's wife
Seiju: A resident of Sokomushi Village
Osayo: Seiju's wife
Omiyo: Seiju and Osayo's daughter
1
"An abandoned village?"
Mari, who up until then had been drinking her tea boredly, suddenly repeated the words with a sparkle in her eyes.
"Yeah. It's called Sokomushi Village. It used to be a small place, but even the few who remained there died out during a great famine during the Kan'ei era. All that's left of it now are some ruined houses and something that looks like a small hokora," Mr. Mikimoto explained as he blew the dust from the lens of his camera using a tool that resembled an eyedropper with a brush attached. The name 'Sokomushi'―written using the characters 'bottom' and 'insect'―was a creepy one indeed.
"I guess the 'great famine during the Kan'ei era' must have been in around 1640. That was the first great national famine of the Edo period. A lot of people all across the country starved to death during it," Mr. Kobayashi added, nodding in satisfaction. He knew a lot of strange things.
It was I who had found out about tours to this place―Mikazuki Island, not a place I'd heard of before―and invited Mari on one. I'd meant for us to come together, just the two of us, but somehow Mari's aunt and uncle, Mr. Kobayashi and his wife, had ended up joining us. Upon arriving at the hotel (a large, Western-style hall that apparently used to be a private mansion), we ran into Mr. Mikimoto, who we had met at the lodge run by Mr. Kobayashi. I hadn't expected that anyone else would want to visit such a remote island, but it turned out that there were plenty of other guests, and my dreams of us alone on our own private beach were shattered.
Mr. Mikimoto himself had not come here for pleasure, but rather to photograph the abandoned village said to be found on the opposite side of the island, which was curved into the shape of a crescent moon.
"An abandoned village, huh? That sounds kinda lovely. Mind if I come with you?"
As I heard her say the words I'd been fearing from the gleam in her eyes, I panicked. Even if we weren't going to have it all to ourselves, I wasn't crazy enough to be looking around an abandoned village in the middle of summer when the beach awaited.
"H-hey... What's the point of going to an empty village? And anyway, won't it be a pretty long trek to the other side of the island? There's no way there's a bus that goes there..."
"I've rented a car. If you don't mind helping me out a bit, I'll drive you."
"Really? Score! You wanna come too, don't you, Toru? We can go swimming in the sea any time. It's not every day you get to explore an abandoned village."
"I mean, yeah, but..."
I didn't think that something being unusual necessarily made it worthwhile, but something about it seemed to entice her, and it seemed pointless to comment.
"You don't have to come. What about you guys?"
"We're fine. You kids should go on ahead," Kyoko said, almost as if she were sending them off on a date, making me even more flustered by the prospect of letting Mikimoto and Mari go alone.
"Fine. I'll come with you."
I held my hands up in surrender. Mikimoto slapped his knee and got to his feet.
"Great. Now that's sorted out, we should get ready. You two might want to change your clothes. We'll probably be walking through grass and thickets, so you'd be better off wearing trousers and long sleeves to cover up as much as you can."
Mikimoto himself was wearing what looked like military issue khaki trousers, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a vest covered in pockets. In stark contrast Mari and I, having intended to be spending our time on the beach, were wearing short-sleeved tops, Bermuda shorts, and flip-flops. We were likely to get bitten by insects and scratched up by any grass.
"I bet there'll be snakes, too. Maybe we should just stay here..."
"Snakes? So what? If you get bitten by a mamushi, I bet Mr. Mikimoto will suck out the venom for you. Right?"
I felt like I was about to blow a fuse. What the hell was she playing at!? Mr. Mikimoto waved his hand, letting out a wry chuckle.
"Nah. A lot of people say you should suck out the venom, but in some cases that can actually make things worse. You're better off making sure they rest and getting them to the hospital."
I'd learned that Mr. Mikimoto wasn't going to suck any venom out of Mari even if she did get bitten by a mamushi, but that didn't necessarily mean I could relax. With the way he was acting so brimming with confidence, I would've bet she saw him as a grown, reliable man.
"Of course there'll be snakes, but as long as we keep our wits about us we'll be fine. If we make plenty of noise as we go, they'll run away from us."
"...You heard him. So, what's it gonna be? You coming or not?"
Now I was in this position, whether it was snakes or bears out there, backing down wasn't an option.
The car Mr. Mikimoto rented at the hotel was a 4x4 pickup truck. We helped him load his tripod, batteries and other equipment into the cargo bed, and all three of us sat side by side on the front bench seats. Since he would be driving, I hurriedly got in and secured the middle seat. The heat was miserable, but I had no choice but to put up with it.
"This feels kind of like an American road movie."
It was true that I'd only ever seen pickup trucks in American films before, so I had to admit, it did kind of feel that way. The roads we were driving down, however, were like unsurfaced animal trails. I supposed the suspension must be stiff, too, since each time we hit a bump on the rough roads, we bounced in our seats and almost knocked our heads against the roof.
"What possessed you to decide to take photos of an abandoned village in such a remote location?"
Realistically speaking, it was Mari's fault for saying she wanted to come with, but I subconsciously took on a reproachful tone. Mr. Mikimoto, however, seemed not to notice.
"I'm thinking of making a photobook. Whenever I get a bit of spare time, I travel all over the country taking loads of shots of abandoned villages and temples. I don't have a publisher at the moment, but it looks like folklore's about to become all the rage again, and I think I can put together something pretty interesting if I combine the photos with stuff like folk tales from different regions."
"Folk tales...? Are there any of those about the place we're going?"
"I haven't looked too deeply into it yet or anything, but since the place is called Sokomushi Village, I thought there might be something worth checking out. I did a little digging, and heard that there's a strange children's song that only exists within the village. I don't know what the melody's supposed to be, but the lyrics go like this."
Bagmoths, bagmoths, hanging from a tree,
They look delicious,
But however delicious they are,
You mustn't eat them,
Or you'll be trapped in a living hell.
Bagmoths, bagmoths, hanging from a tree,
If you can't help yourself,
If you simply can't help yourself,
Go ahead and take a bite,
And you'll be left in the mountains.
"...That's a creepy song," said Mari. I nodded unconsciously.
"Right? Japan isn't the only place where people eat insects, like certain types of caterpillar, and their larvae―it's not uncommonly heard of in certain areas and periods where sources of protein are scarce. I've never heard of anyone eating bagmoths before, though, and I'm not sure who on earth thinks they actually look appetising, or why you'd be cautioned against eating them. It's such a weird story. Were they really so lacking in food that even bagworms looked tasty to them? And what what would've happened if they ate one? Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
"Nursery rhymes and children's songs are full of things that don't make any sense. That must be what it is. Some kids just strung together some words they thought sounded interesting, and it doesn't have any deeper meaning or anything?"
"That's one possibility. Or maybe it's sung during certain games, like Kagome Kagome and Hana Ichi Monme. Maybe the lyrics changed over the course of the years. In any case, it's only sung in this tiny little village, and the lyrics didn't even make it across to the closest settlement on the mainland, so there must be some sort of extremely special custom or game associated with it. I'm no expert, so I don't know anything more than that, but maybe there are some scholars with interest in the song."
As we talked, the car made a large circle around the bay and drove into a gloomy forest. It must have been humid, because the temperature suddenly dropped, and a thin mist hung in the air. It should've seemed like a nice time for a spot of forest bathing, but the melancholy ambience was too off-putting. Even Mari, who'd been so cheerful earlier, had fallen silent as she watched the scenery go by. Mikimoto gradually slowed the car and came to a stop.
"Guess this is as far as we can go in the car. If you help me unload the luggage, you're free to do as you like. I expect the shoot to take... around two hours, I guess. If you want to go back before then, give me a shout. I can either cut it short, or I can drive you two and then come back by myself."
"Don't worry, we'll wait until you're done. Won't we?"
What the hell are we supposed to do here for the next two hours? I thought to myself, but nodded in resignation.
Right next to the spot where we'd climbed out of the car was a stagnant swamp, which appeared to be the source of the humidity. An even thicker fog enshrouded the area. The air was refreshingly cool, but the chill from it gave me a hint of goosebumps. I could faintly see a black shadow on the other side of the swamp that resembled an abandoned building. Was it a remnant of the abandoned village? I could hear nothing, such as cicadas or birdsong, suggestive of life.
Mr. Mikimoto nodded in admiration. He seemed to have decided on a composition as soon as we unpacked the truck, setting up his tripod and beginning to take pictures. I watched him for a while, until I suddenly noticed that Mari was gone.
"Mari?"
There was no response. Had she gone ahead into the village by herself? Tutting, I followed after her.
The fog wasn't so dense as to obscure visibility entirely, but with everything appearing so fuzzy and indistinct the place felt oddly sinister, with the shadows of the trees sometimes looking to me like monsters. I'd never seen anything so creepy before. What the hell would make someone want to come to a place like this by choice? I thought to myself bitterly.
"Mari! It's not safe to go wandering off by yourself!"
Thinking I'd spotted the silhouette of a person I approached it, only to find that it was actually the large root of a fallen tree, which had seemingly rotted and snapped in two. I skirted around the exposed, octopus leg-like roots to avoid tripping on them, and stumbled upon the broken ruin of what appeared to once have been a hut. Its four walls were still just barely standing, and I couldn't see any trace of a door or roof.
Traces that seemed to mark spots where houses once stood continued from there, set slightly apart. Some of them still retained about half of their thatched roofs, whereas others were no more than heaps of blackened timber. People really used to live in a place like this, I thought, impressed. There had been no cars or boats with engines back then, nor any significant tract of arable land. I couldn't get my head around why someone would decide to settle in such a creepy, inconvenient location.
"...Toru?"
"Waah!"
Hearing a voice suddenly call out to me from behind, I almost jumped out of my skin. It was Mari, of course.
"What are you acting all surprised for? Hey, come with me a minute. I found something cool."
"'Something cool'...?"
"Just come."
The eerie aura of the place didn't seem to have dampened Mari's enjoyment of touring abandoned houses at all. Unbothered by the fog she walked ahead, using a branch she held in her hand to push back the long grass in her path with a rustle (presumably to ward off snakes).
"Where are you going? If you go that way, you'll get lost in the forest...!"
It seemed like I needn't have worried. As we pushed into the trees―or so I thought―the forest suddenly gave way. It was the sea. On the other side of the bay, I could see the opposite side of the 'crescent' where our hotel was. The fog was gone, and rays of warm sunshine dispelled the gloom.
"What's wrong? Come on, this way."
Mari pushed onwards, sticking to the cliffside.
"You smell that, right?"
"Huh? The sea?"
"No. Look. Over there."
I looked in the direction Mari was pointing, and saw a lone tall tree, its branches laden with green fruit.
"Hm? It smells like..."
As I got closer, a sweet, fragrant scent filled the air around me.
"...Pears?"
"Exactly! They must be La France pears! Judging from the smell, at least. Let's eat some!"
It was definitely the sweet smell of ripened La France pears. But didn't pears only begin to smell so sweet after being left for a while, rather than when freshly picked?
"What would they be doing all the way out here?"
"I dunno. Maybe Western Europeans planted them and they grew wild."
"...Hmm."
I guess that could've happened, I replied non-committally.
"Well? What are you just standing around for? Why do you think I came to get you?"
"Huh? You mean you didn't bring me here to show me the pear tree?"
"No, dummy. I brought you because the fruit's up too high for me to reach, obviously."
...Oh, right. She must be such a glutton that she'd smelled the fruit from the village and come to check it out. I couldn't help but be impressed. But when I went over to the tree and looked up at it, I realised that I probably couldn't reach, either.
"Make like a horse."
"...Okay then."
I got down on all fours, resigned. Mari took off her shoes and clambered onto my back, picked five or six fruits from the lowest branch, and jumped back down.
"Here. A little something for your trouble," she said, holding out one of the fruits to me.
That's all? I thought to myself, but reached out and took it anyway, feeling pathetic.
"Mm. They're fully ripe."
Mari sat down in the grass with one of the fruits in her hand, took a small bite, and began to smoothly peel it. Since it was so ripe and soft, the skin seemed to come off easily. She sucked heartily on the fruit, so fragile it looked like it would be crushed under too much pressure, and let out a sensual sigh of satisfaction.
"...It's so good... Hmm... It doesn't really taste like a La France, though. Maybe it's a wild species?"
"Hm... Let's see."
I peeled and bit into my own fruit. Its refreshing aroma and sweet taste were similar to a La France pear, but there was something subtly different about it. There seemed almost to be an added depth to both the fragrance and the flavour.
As I slurped at my fruit, savouring the taste and leaving only the seeds, Mari finished two. Three more fruits remained untouched beside her.
"...Mari... Can I have another one?"
"Sure... On the condition that you play horsey again."
"Fine."
As soon as she answered, I snatched up another fruit and bit into it, skin and all. Its juices spread throughout my mouth, a pleasant tingling sensation shooting from my tongue into my brain. I'd never felt anything like it before.
"...It's so good..."
I finished eating the second fruit in the blink of an eye. Mari, who had just about polished off her third, had hidden the last one between her legs to guard it and make sure that I couldn't grab it.
"No fair, Mari. Let's have half each."
I started to get angry. For being called over and used as a stepping stool, I'd only got two, while she kept four for herself?
The second Mari tossed the scraps and picked up the last fruit, I rushed over and grabbed it from her.
"Hey! No! What are you playing at!?"
"What's wrong? You've already had three. This one's mine."
"No! I'm the one who found them! It's only fair that I get to eat more!"
"If I hadn't helped you, you wouldn't have got to eat any at all!"
Mari clung to my arm, held aloft, and tried to clamber up it. I staggered two or three steps towards the cliff, and was almost sent tumbling.
"B-be careful!"
"You be careful!"
The next instant, the ground beneath my feet gave way, and we slipped down the steep slope, still holding onto each other.