Chapter 4 - The Fukami family
The pure white marble hallway, unblemished and smooth, was clearly not the kind of flimsy material one might find anywhere. Just walking on it made that much apparent.
From the high, latticed ceiling hung chandeliers made from pure crystal.
A deep red carpet with a long pile spread across the massive hall… The lavish decor evoked the grandeur of a Western-style mansion from the Taishō era.
Yet, not a single window could be found anywhere.
A standing-style evening party was currently taking place there.
The guest consisting of elegantly dressed men and women looked vaguely familiar. Holding drinks in hand, they were enjoying polite conversations.
“I hear there were many of the black ones today…”
“Oh, how frightening… But it is as the divine prophecy foretold.”
“Then perhaps That Person's awakening is not far off...”
“We mustn’t be hasty. After all, we have waited since our parents’ time.”
“That’s exactly why... I want to see Them before I grow too old.”
“Soon… It’ll be very soon.”
“As long as That Person is with us…”
“Yes. All for this country’s peace and prosperity…”
Deep navy-blue eyes watched over them.
With fair hair and a refined, symmetrical face, the young man wore a well-tailored formal suit flawlessly. Yet something about him felt out of place—like he didn’t belong here.
No one approached him.
And he had no reason to speak with anyone here either.
He knew that the people who actually mattered wouldn’t be taking part in such a farce.
Leaning against the wall like a wallflower, he occasionally accepted drinks from passing waitstaff, drained them in one go, and returned the empty glass.
Repeating only that, he silently watched the crowd.
“Murasame-sama, the Priestess is calling for you.”
A young woman in a plain formal dress quietly addressed him.
Clearly, but only loud enough for him to hear.
“I understand.”
The man called Murasame gave a short reply, then began to silently follow after the woman as she walked ahead.
They left the windowless hall and proceeded down a windowless corridor before Murasame suddenly spoke.
“Anything unusual?”
“Nothing in particular. She is healthy. Though…”
“Yes?”
“Well… around the evening, while she was napping, she seemed to be sweating more than usual.”
"I see."
To an outsider, it might sound like idle chit-chat, but neither Murasame nor the woman treated it lightly.
After walking a few minutes down the straight, white corridor, two women dressed in flowing white garments greeted them with gentle bows and opened a large set of double doors.
“Murasame's here!”
A child's voice rang out.
From a room even larger than the previous hall, a small girl in miko robes came running over.
She looked about four or five years old, with her black hair in a bob and with large eyes.
Murasame knelt as she approached, showing a gentle smile he reserved for no one else.
“How are you feeling today, Priestess?”
“Yes, I’m quite well.”
The girl replied with a wide smile, using language uncharacteristic for a child.
The room was filled with an overwhelming number of picture books and toys, so many it would be foolish to try counting them. Toys for both girls and boys, appropriate and not, arranged almost like offerings.
She had no name. She had been here since birth and had been called only “Priestess” from the start.
After answering Murasame, her eyebrows lowered slightly.
“But listen… I had a rather scary dream today.”
She reached out with both hands as if asking to be picked up. The two handmaids beside her quietly stepped back, and Murasame gently lifted her into his arms.
“A scary dream? A bad one?”
“Not bad… but it felt like something was ‘calling’ me.”
“I see…”
Still, Murasame came. So everything’s all right now.
“Yes, Priestess.”
She leaned on him like a little sister would — or maybe like a daughter — and Murasame responded just the same.
“Say, Muramasa. Did you beat the bad guy?”
“I apologize. I lost track of them.”
“I see… But that’s alright. You’ll beat them for me, right?”
“Yes, for you, Priestess. …And for the peace of this country.”
Murasame gently rubbed the Priestess's back, and she clung tightly to his neck, beaming.
“Murasame, will you tell me a story again?”
“Of course, Priestess. What kind of story would you like today?”
The Priestess lowered her eyebrows again, thinking hard, then lifted her face.
“The story about a princess!”
“Understood. Then…”
Murasame sat her down on a mountain of cushions and took a seat beside her.
“Today’s story is… ‘The Tale of Princess Tsubakiri.’”
“…An unfamiliar ceiling.”
Muttering the line everyone wants to say at least once in their life, I slowly opened my eyes.
A dim room. A light-colored wooden ceiling. A soft, sweet scent like milk tickled my nose. I looked around and saw moonlight gently filtering through a paper and wood-framed window.
“…Huh?”
Finally, my awareness clicked into place.
“Where… am I?”
I was sure… I came to Japan, walking through a busy downtown area—wait, no. I can’t remember.
Um, my name is Nanohana, and my age is… technically three? Though I look about ten years older.
What is this room? Tatami… A Japanese-style room, huh. A study desk… The decorations seem old-fashioned, but it feels like a girl’s room. So this sweet scent must be a girl’s. Doesn’t seem like a man brought me here while I was unconscious.
…
Feeling uneasy, I checked over my body, and while I was relieved to find I still had clothes on, the area from my chest down to my stomach was in tatters, with bare skin showing through.
Luckily, though, the torn fabric had caught in just the right way to keep the important parts covered. I couldn’t decide whether to be glad or depressed that there wasn’t enough to peak out anyway.
But it didn’t seem like the clothes had been ripped off forcefully. More like… burnt? Was there some kind of bombing incident? Then again, I didn’t have so much as a scratch on me—no burns, not even a bruise.
Weird. This fluffy futon is dangerously cozy, but for now I decided to check out my surroundings. I stood up—and the moment I did, something tugged on my clothes, and I went face-first into the tatami.
As soon as I opened my clothes, I was pushed down on the tatami mat.
“—!!”
I smacked my nose hard enough that all I could do was let out a silent groan.
Huh? Was my body just heavy? No, it felt like something physically pulled me back just now… Ah.
“This girl…”
I hadn’t noticed her at all! A little girl I didn’t recognize was fast asleep beside the futon, clutching onto my clothes.
Why didn’t I sense her there? She was right next to me. Are my senses dulled? Come to think of it, I’d felt strangely sluggish earlier too.
Even with the moonlight, I could barely make out the shadows. My night vision was shot. It was like my physical abilities had dropped several levels all at once.
This… this must mean the power I once had inside me is completely gone.
“...”
Something definitely happened. I probably got seriously injured, and then used that power to heal myself. It’s true that using it always sped up healing, but…
“Nope. I’ve got nothing.”
Well, it can’t be helped. Not knowing doesn’t bother me much. That’s one of my strengths.
But… there is one thing I do know.
“…Hehe.”
“…Mmm…”
Even after all that, the girl slept on. I poked her cheek, and she let out a cute sound.
She must’ve carried me here and stayed by my side without changing. It must’ve been hard. She must be exhausted. I didn’t notice anything because, subconsciously, I already trusted her.
She was a beautiful girl, around my age or a bit older with silvery hair that shone like moonlight.
“Thank you.”
I gently slipped my clothes from her grasp and stood.
My once-brand-new ao dai was torn not just in front, but in the back too. How does that even happen? Whatever. I needed a change of clothes, but my belongings were nowhere in sight. Probably lost.
Even someone my size gets self-conscious, so I borrowed the light cardigan lying on the futon.
I should at least confirm my surroundings. I trusted the girl, but I needed an exit strategy.
Right now, my power was nearly gone. I had the physical abilities of a normal kid. Probably couldn’t use my Eyes either, so I had to gather information myself.
Carefully, I slid open the wooden paper door—what was it called? A fusuma?—and stepped into the hallway. The smooth wood felt cool on my bare feet.
This much, even outdated knowledge could handle. A classic Japanese-style house. Big one, too. Maybe she was a rich girl?
As I walked down the hall, the walls and doors turned into wooden panels and shoji screens. There—
“Awake at last, young lady?”
“…Good evening, sir.”
An elderly man in a kimono sat seiza-style on the engawa1, quietly drinking tea.
Who was he? The girl’s grandfather?
“Would you like some tea? We have sweets too.”
“I’d love some.”
I decided he wasn’t a threat and sat on the cushion beside him. Not because of the sweets. Totally not.
“My name is Nanohana.”
“How polite. I am Fukami Senjō, the master of this house. You appear to be a foreigner, but your manners are impeccable.”
He got right to the point. If he found out I had no passport, things could get messy.
I could sit seiza thanks to my research, but I still didn’t quite pass for Japanese.
“Some humble tea.”
“Ah—thank you.”
A boy about high school age in traditional attire silently served tea from behind. I didn’t even sense him. Impressive.
I looked over the beautiful garden while moistening my throat with the tea and took a short rest.
“I studied about Japan. My knowledge is outdated, though. Also… thank you for taking care of me.”
“No, no. I was surprised when my granddaughter, Tsubaki, brought you here, but I’m glad you weren’t hurt. If anyone, it's rather her you should thank.”
So her name was Tsubaki. It really…
“Suits her perfectly.”
“Doesn’t it? The moment I saw her, that name came to me. And your name, Nanohana-san, suits you too. Though it is Japanese.”
“…Thank you.”
I used local names to blend in, but in a homogeneous nation like Japan, maybe that just made me stand out more. Whoops.
Maybe I should tell the truth…
“I’m a stateless girl who traveled alone from the European countryside for three years and illegally entered this country.”
Sounds sketchy as hell. The truth sounds faker than fiction.
As I debated inwardly, I heard running footsteps down the hall.
“There you are…”
It was the girl—Tsubaki? She ran toward us and collapsed in relief when she spotted me.
“Come on, Tsubaki. No running in the halls.”
“Y-yes, Grandfather. I’m sorry…”
Perfect timing. But more than that, I wanted to thank her. I got off the cushion and turned to her.
"U-um, Tsubaki-san? You were the one who helped me, right? Thank you so much. My name is Nanohana."
“Uh, ah, yes! I'm Tsubaki!”
Even though she had a cool, graceful appearance, the way she flustered to respond was so cute that I couldn’t help but smile. When I did, her face suddenly turned bright red.
“I’m sorry for borrowing your cardigan.”
“It’s totally fine! I’ve got tons of clothes I’m not wearing, so please feel free to wear whatever you want!”
“R-Really?”
Whatever I want...? I mean, it’s not like I’m planning to stay that long... And why is this girl so energetic?
When I glanced over at the elderly man, thinking 'what a cute granddaughter he has,' he was watching his granddaughter with a slightly surprised look, while the young man next to him also seemed surprised but he wore a friendly smile.
Noticing my gaze, the elderly man turned his gentle smile toward me, then addressed Tsubaki.
“Tsubaki. It seems this young lady, Nanohana-san, is here to study from overseas. She’ll be staying with us for a while—do you mind?”
“Huh?”
“Eh?”
Both Tsubaki and I let out voices of surprise at the same time. Though mine came from sheer confusion.
Why would he say something like that? I mean, not to be self-deprecating, but you don’t just offer to take in someone this shady!
...Just how much does this old man really know?
Sure, I get that you wouldn't tell someone who just passed out to immediately leave, but wouldn’t the girl who brought me here also be in trouble? I thought, glancing over at Tsubaki.
“...”
She was staring at me with eyes full of hope.
Her amber-colored eyes, faint in tone, seemed to shine even more beautifully in the night than they had during the day...
Her hair, dyed silver under the moonlight, didn’t possess the beauty of a jewel, but rather the allure of a finely honed blade, so much so that I felt myself being drawn in despite myself.
Ah... no good. I can’t say no when she looks at me like that.
No one’s really losing out here, but I still felt like I’d been outplayed. I shot a quick glare at the old man, and he returned it with a playful wink.
“...Thank you for having me.”
All I could do was raise both hands in surrender. And so, from that day forward, I became a guest in the Fukami household.
- An external corridor on the outer side of traditional Japanese houses ↑