(NB: Japanese names are read with the family name first and first name second. This is relevant to the interpretation of this story. I apologise for the intensity and frequency of the references to the Shinto religion and Japanese culture/superstition that I have used in this short story. However prior knowledge is not required in the reading of this story, and can be understood alone even without any contextual knowledge.)
“What does red look like Uncle Kino?”
“It looks like….”
I wondered how I should have responded to that question. Maybe I should have redirected the question like any other reasonable adult would have done, describing to my dear niece Kurami the brilliance of blooming poppies or the splendour of a dying sunset.
“It looks like… I’ll have to find out and tell you next time my dear”
*****
I woke up drenched in my own sweat, trying to shake off the vestiges of that ridiculous dream. My niece… my niece…?
I remember laying on the veranda reading my copy of ‘Big Comic Spirits’, totally engrossed in the final arc of Urasawa sensei’s *20th Century Boys*; Kenji had finally returned to the main storyline and Giant-Robo reappeared as well, everything pointing towards the final confrontation. I could tell that year looked set to bring about another blistering Japanese summer, as the mayflies buzzed around me in the sweltering heat. Regardless, as long as I was lying in my favourite spot in the shade away from the sun’s merciless glare, manga in hand and a bottle of calpis by the side, nothing could dampen my mood. Even better was the fact that school had let out 2 weeks earlier for renovations to be carried out on the main building. With an extra 2 weeks of summer vacation to enjoy, who was I to complain?
My friends and I already had our schedule all planned out way in advance. Including the mandatory visit to the annual Natsu Rock festival, visits to the beach, and the traditional summer festivals, our summer vacation was jam packed with events to ensure a lifetime of memories, in anticipation of our transition into our third year of high school. Such was the privilege of an only child living without the burden of older or younger siblings.
As I lay there, lost in a summer daze, a familiar voice suddenly cut through my thoughts and called out to me, “Oi! Kamiya Kino! Are you ready to go!”
I lazily pushed the magazine off my face and rolled over to look at the source of the voice. “How rude of me. Would Katsuragi-Sama like a nice bowl of bubuzuke?” I drawled while staring at my best friend with an apathetic gaze.
The person in question, one Katsuragi Hayato, simply brushed off my attempt to get rid of him and jumped onto the veranda, plonking down in front of my face.
“What’s this…. Big Comic Spirits… OHHHHHH! I totally forgot that it came out today! Let me see!” Hayato excitedly picked up the magazine that i’d thrown to the side, “If I remember….”
“Kanno dies, Kenji dies, Friend reigns supreme, the end.” I quickly interjected before he had the chance to turn to the listed page. Hayato glared at me with an evil gaze that suggested that he was about to do something I would immediately regret.
“Kino I swear if you actually spoil the ending for me, I will make sure you enter the old school building alone tonight.” He warned.
“Tonight….wait what’s the time?”
Hayato glanced at the clock hanging behind me in the traditional style room and quickly jumped up.
“It’s half past 6! Hurry we’re going to be late! I can’t believe I got caught up in your flow! I came to get you so we wouldn’t get the last draw as usual damn it!” The both of us immediately rushed out the front gate at full speed as Hayato dragged me all the way to school.
By the time we reached the main gates, the other two members of our small group had already arrived on their bikes, waiting for us.
“Everyone knows the legend of Kurami Hime chan right?” Hayato asked.
I slowly nodded my head, as this my friends around me. There was no one in the local community who didn’t know the story of Princess Kurami. According to the stories handed down from one generation to another, Kurami Hime was the daughter of an ancient feudal lord who sacrificed her eyes in order to qualify as an *itako*, a blind shaman who could communicate with the gods, all this done in order to bless her father with victory on the battlefield. Touched by her act of filial piety, the god of war Bishamonten accepted her offering and in turn blessed the Daimyo, her father, with a pair of eyes capable of reading the flow of battle and changing it in order to ensure absolute victory.
After Kurami Hime passed on she was deified within the community as a land god, also known as a tochigami, Kurami Kamisama. However over the centuries, as the name of Kurami Kamisama faded from the minds of people and was replaced by more relevant land gods, it was said that her soul descended into the underworld bearing hatred towards the land she’d protected for so long, and she evolved into a yokai, a demon.
In a more modern context, rumour was that the old school building was built atop the former shrine dedicated to Kurami Kamisama, and in doing so angered her to such an extent that the building had to be abandoned within a year, no shinto priest able to exorcise her no matter how many times they tried. The school board once considered demolishing the building, but apparently during the meeting one by one the board members started bleeding profusely from their eyes until enough blood pooled to form the message “Leave my shrine alone”. It was a classic rumour that was based on hearsay and no doubt greatly exaggerated over the years by students trying to out-spook each other.
Regardless how gory the rumours sounded, the night exploration of the old school building was a rite of passage for all high school students we were not willing to miss out on.
“Everyone ready?” Hayato asked, and seemed satisfied as the entire group nodded their heads. I couldn’t help but feel a slight chill run down my spine despite the summer heat.
As one, the 4 of us entered the Old School Building.
The first floor was easily cleared in under half an hour, the rooms were all empty and devoid of any notable graffiti except some leftover chalk drawings on the blackboards that had not been touched in at least the last 20 years.
“That’s spooky, i’d have thought chalk would’ve been blown away ages ago” I muttered under my breath as I stared, transfixed by the amateurish manga scribbled across the black panel.
As I was distracted by the blackboard, I hadn’t paid much attention to where I was going and accidentally kicked over a small stool that’d been placed next to the wall. In that dead silent atmosphere, the resulting crash resounded magnificently and the entire group stopped dead in their tracks scared witless.
“Kino you damn idiot.” Hayato swore at me under his breath from up ahead.
I looked back and found the source of the disturbance and quickly set the stool upright. It seemed like there was a bowl that had been placed atop the stool originally and as I tried searching for it, what I found made my blood run cold; A bunch of sticks were strewn on the floor, joss sticks to be precise, four of them, and I had unwittingly trampled upon them. I looked back up and tried to call to my friends but they seemed to have left me behind. It was at this moment that I heard a gentle voice come from behind me, addressing me directly,
“Uncle, are you looking for someone?”
The moment I heard that voice, all my instincts screamed at me to get out of that room as quickly as I could. But that voice was so gentle, so innocent, it couldn’t be…. Against my better judgement, I slowly turned my head and looked over my shoulder only to find no one there.
“Over here uncle” I heard the same voice call out from the other side and gingerly turned to face over my left shoulder. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight before my eyes. The horrifyingly disfigured demon depicted in so many accounts was nowhere to be seen, and instead what stood before me was the tiny figure of a 4 year old child dressed in a traditional red kimono, the right side neatly folded over the left and fastened around the waist with an *obi*. Although she had one hand over her eyes, she noticed me looking at her and asked simply “Uncle, might this one have the honour of knowing how to address you?”
“K-Kino… Kamiya Kino” I manage to stammer out a response, remembering to change my words into polite speech just in time.
“Kamiya… Kino… How lucky you must be, uncle! To have a house blessed by the gods, tis truly a blessing to make your acquaintance.” The little girl seemed genuinely pleased upon hearing my name. “If it is not too presumptuous a request, might this one obtain permission to address you as Uncle Kamiya?”
“Ah… Kino is fine”
“Uncle Kino, this one is honoured that you might deign to allow one to address you by your given name. This one is indeed humbled.” The tiny red figure performed dogeza towards me.
In this situation, I was lost for words. The merciless killer i’d prepared numerous mantras to recite against was nowhere to be seen, and instead this tiny girl was treating me like royalty. I was no fool however, and knew that the possibility of her being an actual living girl was absolutely zero. It was more likely the wandering spirit of a child that was trapped on this plane and unable to attain Nirvana. Since the threat of imminent danger had passed, I attempted to make small talk with her, rather excited at the prospect of actually meeting a real spirit for the first time
“That’s a beautiful red kimono you are wearing” I tried complimenting her
“Is that so? This one is glad Uncle Kino appreciates the beauty of this one’s dressing, however…” The little girl seemed hesitant, almost sad as she asked her next question,
“What does red look like Uncle Kino?”
“Imagine the brilliance of freshly bloomed poppies, or the splendour of a dying sunset” I promptly replied, borrowing the words of the mighty Tenjin Sama I had prayed to on so many occasions before.
“This one has never seen those things before. What does red mean?”
“Red is…” I stopped mid speech, and thoroughly considered the proposition. I had never considered something like that. Although we all saw the same object in our daily lives, and agreed that such a colour was defined as ‘red’, who knew if each person perceived the colour red differently, yet saw it consistently in his world as red, and thus in the end resulting in the colour he acknowledged as red not actually being the same colour red in my vision, but because of a mutual inability to see from each individuals perspective, we agreed upon the appearance of the colour ‘red’?
“Does red exist in my world?”
“What you see and what I see may be the same, but although we perceive it differently, what matters is that we address it by the same name, the colour red.”
“But what you see doesn’t exist in my world?”
“Not exactly true but…”
“Then how can you be sure that what you see is true if it isn’t real to me?” The little girl refused to let me finish my sentence
“I am sure it exists because I can see it in my world”
“Then if you can’t see me do I not exist anymore?” The tiny girl had stopped using polite speech; I could feel some slight tension in the air.
“You do indeed exist because I perceive your existence as valid in my world since I can see you standing in front of me.”
“Then if you can’t see anything, nothing exists anymore? Or does everything become reality since nothing can be real anymore?”
At this point I was thoroughly confused, although I was vaguely aware of what she was trying to say.
“I exist only as long as you can see me, yet you see what I cannot and I believe in what you say. For all I may know, a sunset you say is a giant ball of fire crossing the horizon, yet I cannot imagine such a thing to happen in my world? Does that mean the sunset does not exist to me? And as such is it merely a dream to me? Then If I dream of a sunset, and sunsets belong in your world, does that make your world a dream?” She continued speaking without waiting for my reply “Then maybe I am dreaming about you now? And the only reason you believe in my presence is because you can see me in your dream? So does that make my reality more real than yours? If I can only dream about all the things that exist in your world, then your world must be a dream to me, then you must be my dream? And as such then since you can only exist in my dream, the only way for me to exist is in your dreams?”
There was a long heavy silence as the girl finished her speech. I chose my next words carefully as I said to her in the gentlest voice I could muster, “That’s not true, you exist to me now because I see you now.”
The little girl was silent for a while, and just as I believed i’d finally placated her she raised her head and said to me in as equally gentle a voice,
“If all you put your faith in is based on your sight then, IF YOU CAN’T SEE ME, DOES THAT MEAN I DON’T EXIST IN YOUR REALITY? THEN IF YOU CAN’T SEE ANYTHING, THAT MAKES EVERYTHING YOUR REALITY, AND AS SUCH I BECOME YOUR REALITY.” The little girl suddenly screamed with enough ferocity to wake the dead. She threw open her arms in that moment, revealing the horribly disfigured face she had hidden for the entire duration of our conversation, and in that moment I realised the true nature of the one I was dealing with. This tiny figure that stood before me had the face of an angel, yet where her eyes should have been there were only two gaping, bleeding sockets; Kurami Hime chan
“WHY HAVE YOU ABANDONED ME?” She screamed viciously, “I WHO HAVE FORSAKEN MY VISION FOR THIS LAND AT SO YOUNG AN AGE? BELIEVE IN ME! BELIEVE IN ME!”
Before I could react, she had rushed in front of me, and jumped up, grasping my lapels, shaking my entire body with inhuman strength
“I CANNOT SEE THE WORLD ANYMORE YET ALL IS REAL TO ME, MAYBE IF YOU JOIN ME, WILL I BE REAL TO YOU TOO?”
I could only stay helplessly rooted to the spot for the entire encounter as I prayed endlessly to Kannon for divine protection, reciting all the mantras I could remember. Finally I raised my head to the heavens, pleading for a miraculous escape, and then did I finally realise the fatal mistake i’d made. When I first spoke to Kurami Hime Chan, i’d looked over my right shoulder, and then over my left, and now i’d finally looked upwards leaving me completely defenceless. It was at this moment that the violent shaking suddenly stopped, and Kurami Hime Chan addressed me with that same gentle voice she began with, smiling sweetly as she spoke
“This one is glad that Uncle Kino has chosen to accept the burden this one was entrusted with.” There was no solace to be sought in the tenderness of her words; I said my last words to Kannon, and prayed for a peaceful reincarnation
“I only wish that this was all a dream, and I could go back to a time where this never happened at all.” I sighed in a resigned tone.
“Well Uncle Kino, who’s to say that this isn’t real, and the past wasn’t merely a dream? If what you say is real and what I think is fantasy are one and the same, aren’t you just a figment of my imagination just as I am yours?”
My sight began to dim as my vision was dyed red with blood. The last thing I saw was the soulless gaze of that little girl looking down at me lying on the floor. She opened her mouth to ask me one last time,
“What does red look like Uncle Kino?”
“It looks like…”
I wondered how I should have responded to that question. Maybe I should have redirected the question like any other reasonable adult would have done, telling my dear niece Kurami that I would explain to her the next time I found out.
“It looks like….the brilliance of fresh bloomed poppies, or the splendour of a dying sunset.”
*****
I woke up drenched in my own sweat, trying to shake of the vestiges of that ridiculous dream
It was during the summer of 2006 when the first sounds of joy and laughter rang throughout the Kamiya household for the first time in many years.
I remember laying on the veranda reading my copy of ‘Big Comic Spirits’, totally engrossed in the final arc of Urasawa sensei’s *20th Century Boys*; Kenji had finally returned to the main storyline and Giant-Robo reappeared as well, everything pointing towards the final confrontation. I could tell that year looked set to bring about another blistering Japanese summer, as the mayflies buzzed around me in the sweltering heat. Regardless, as long as I was lying in my favourite spot in the shade away from the sun’s merciless glare, manga in hand and a bottle of calpis by the side, nothing could dampen my mood. Even better was the fact that school had let out 2 weeks earlier for renovations to be carried out on the main building. With an extra 2 weeks of summer vacation to enjoy, who was I to complain?
My brother had brought his 4 year old daughter Kurami over from Tokyo in order for her to meet her paternal grandparents, my parents for that matter.
“Uncle Kino, what are you reading?” I looked to the left as I heard a tiny voice address me directly in as polite speech as it could manage. There my niece sat, dressed in her brand new yukata, staring at me with a curious gaze. I sat upright and brought her next to me.
“Kurami-chan, you’ve got it reversed, it should be left over right silly” I quickly adjusted the folds of her brightly coloured garb.
“Uncle Kino, my mummy says that my yukata is a beautiful red colour.”
This was indeed true, although I felt a twinge of sadness as I realised my colour-blind niece would never be able to appreciate the vibrant energy of this passionate colour.
“Yes it is beautiful…” I muttered softly.
“What does red look like Uncle Kino?”
“It looks like… I’ll have to find out and tell you next time my dear” I replied gently to the tiny girl sitting on my lap.
“Ok! It’s ok if you don’t know either Uncle Kino. My mummy says that she doesn’t see things the same as me, so I don’t know if you see the same things as my mummy!” Kurami replied cheerfully
I felt as though my heart would break as I heard such painfully innocent words being spouted. I couldn’t leave this little girl in such a state, but something about her words had got me thinking….
“Maybe your mummy is wrong about the colour red?” I asked tentatively
“That can’t be true, my mummy is always right.” she pouted
“Yes but… What you see and what I see are the same thing, but although we perceive it differently, what matters is that we address it by the same name, the colour red. So even if you don’t see the colour red I see, don’t you find it equally beautiful?”
She gave a tiny frown as the slightly complicated expression failed to reach her, thus I tried again.
“Well, look at it this way. See that field of grass over there? Maybe I see it as grass, and maybe you see it as something else, but so long as we agree to call that area a patch of grass, doesn’t that mean that in the end we call the same thing by the same name, ‘grass’? Well for all you know, maybe you’re the right one and your mummy and I are wrong! After all we can’t both be wrong so one of us must be right. Either way it’ll turn out fine!”
Little Kurami sat down and contemplated for all of 1 whole minute before her face lighted up with joy, “That’s right Uncle Kino! I’m wearing a beautiful red yukata! As long as I believe in it, everything can come true! Look at me!” She leapt up and started twirling around, excited at the ‘discovery’ of this new found colour. Although I knew that it was all matter of perception in her eyes, the joy radiating from her expression was more than enough for me to believe that i’d done my part in bringing a little bit of happiness into my precious niece’s life.
I was wrong. Perhaps it was divine retribution, that the white lies I told to make my niece happy, would end up as a source of endless sorrow for her.
She was so excited at being able to ‘see the colour red’
She was so excited to go to the river to see the brilliant ‘red’ sunset
She was so excited at being able to tell the difference between the ‘red’ and ‘green’ man at the traffic crossing
She dashed across the road just out of my grasp and dropped her tiny bag on the road in her excitement, and as I did my due diligence looking both ways before crossing the road, my eyes widened in horror as I saw a speeding car hurtling towards us, the intense panic flaring in the eyes of the driver as he jammed his brakes as hard as he could, but he was simply moving too fast.
There was only one way to save her
I dashed across to where she was standing and wrapped her in my arms, shielding her tiny body with my entire frame just in time to feel myself soaring through the air, and landing back on the tarmac.
There was no pain, but where was Kurami? Ah she was alright, she must have slipped out of my arms already.
Hmm? Arms? I couldn’t feel them.
Ahh, I could tell that it wasn’t going to matter much longer anyway. I felt some warm liquid pooling beneath my head, at least Kurami won’t be able to understand what it is, maybe?
Kurami was standing over me now, she didn’t seem to be particularly upset. That was good, so long as her childish mind was able to shield her from the worst of the horror, that was good.
“It’s ok Uncle Kino. Maybe i’m just dreaming right now and i’ll wake up later and you’ll be all fine. If you think that this is real and I think i’m dreaming, one of us must be right and everything will be ok!” Kurami giggled as she held my hand.
“After all, you said that nobody knows if i’m looking at the same thing as you are, or you are looking at the same thing as I am. We can’t be both wrong, and either way it’ll turn out fine, so i’ll see you later! What do you see now Uncle Kino?” She asked innocently, oblivious to my impending doom
“I see… Pure red” I replied breathlessly
My sight began to dim as my vision was dyed red with my blood. The last thing I saw was the curious gaze of that little girl looking down at me lying on the road. She opened her mouth to ask me one last time,
“What does red look like Uncle Kino?”
L3D 