The vermilion torii gate.
Thick pillars standing on either side appeared pitch-black in the dark, as if dyed by the night’s shadow. The pillars stood on a well-polished stone floor, their color shifting between a dark crimson and a shade of darkness unlike the surrounding night, as the moonlight peeked through and was obscured by the passing clouds.
The trees that surrounded the torii swayed in the cold night breeze, making a dry rustling sound as they moved. The leaves and branches produced sounds that cut through the air, creating the eerie impression that something invisible was lurking and closing in.
A sound could be heard.
The wind would rise, blowing through the leaves, creating faint echoes that seemed to come from nowhere. An elusive presence, formless and elusive, concealed itself in the shadows of the trees, as if cloaked in them. It peered through the darkness with eyes that gleamed not.
In the darkness, hidden hunters waited, observing their prey. From the shadows, quiet steps approached, almost invisible, as unseen hands reached out with predatory intent.
There—a gaze.
It felt like a tongue flickering against the nape of his neck. The sensation prickled at the fine hairs on his skin, as if a shadowy breath ghosted over the tips of his hair, creating an almost unbearable sense of dread.
Ryosuke felt it.
The hairs on his body stood on end, raising goosebumps in reaction to the intense and chilling gaze. He could barely move his feet.
It felt as though this presence were waiting—waiting for him to step across the torii, to cross the boundary and enter a world beyond this one. Unable to shake the ominous sensation, Ryosuke remained frozen.
There he stood, in front of the torii gateway, drenched in cold sweat, unable to look away from the other side.
Like a frightened animal, sensing an unseen predator but hesitating through instinctive fear.
And so Ryosuke stood motionless, exposed to the biting night wind. Beads of cold sweat rolled down his neck, and in spite of the chill, he didn’t budge, trembling under the icy night air.
How long had he been there? How many times had the moonlight played its game, illuminating then hiding him in shadow?
A distorted noise reached his ears.
“Hey there. What brings you to a standstill here?”
Ryosuke turned toward the source of the voice and saw the figure of a woman. She wore a thin, almost translucent yukata, white against the darkness. Her gaze was sharp and cold as she held out a smartphone in front of her. On its screen, the grainy image of a person flickered, yet the face Ryosuke saw appeared vividly in his sight despite the noise and distance.
As if seeing a beacon in the darkness, Ryosuke’s eyes locked onto the person, the face on that screen.
The next Shinto priest.
A man who had emerged one day and quickly infiltrated the political world, an eccentric figure wielding unimaginable influence. Known for commanding spirits and manipulating others, this enigmatic man dominated the elite with an inscrutable power.
Through the smartphone, it was this man speaking to Ryosuke, addressing him.
“Hey, come closer. Why are you standing out here in the freezing wind, while insects buzz all around? Don’t hesitate. Step inside so we can at least enjoy some conversation.”
The next Shinto priest smiled faintly, his voice distorted by static but piercing through the night, embedding each word directly into Ryosuke’s mind. Despite the clarity of the words, Ryosuke couldn’t move.
It was as if his feet were glued to the ground, staring only at the smartphone.
“Hey. If you’re a visitor, why do you make me lose face by hesitating out here? Please step through the torii and come inside.”
The insistence of the next Shinto priest continued, amplifying Ryosuke’s racing heartbeat. His immovable legs felt as though they carried the weight of the world.
Confusion overwhelmed Ryosuke. The darkness clung to him like a thick fog, its cold touch seeping into his soul. The gaze of the man through the smartphone was almost hypnotic, and the sound of the invitation made him feel as though his balance was about to shatter.
Ryosuke mulled it over, thinking, thinking, trying to decide.
And finally, with tremendous effort, he attempted to lift his leg as if possessed, taking just a step forward.
T—t—toward…?
But at that moment, something snapped him back to reality.
The sound of a pedestrian crossing signal near the shrine, a mechanical noise that rang clearly in his ears.
Ordinarily, it should have only been a mechanical chirp, but now it carried a ghostly voice, as if emanating directly from the throes of a haunted soul. Ryosuke shook his head, snapping back to his senses, and the ghostly tune faded, reducing back to a faint mechanical tone in the distance.
Beep… beep… biip… biip…
Hearing the small sound, Ryosuke unconsciously began humming.
“Where does this narrow road lead to…?”
Was it to drown his fear?
Or was it simply to hum the missing lyrics of the song?
“…to the shrine of the Heavenly Deity.”
Hearing this hum, the next Shinto priest on the smartphone smiled and spoke.
“You’ll be permitted passage. You surely have some business here, no? Just step forward through this torii, though you may carry your fears.”
His face wore a seemingly kind smile as he paraphrased the children’s folk song “Doriyanse.” But in Ryosuke’s mind, that smile resembled the predatory grin of a hunter before striking.
So instead of stepping forward, Ryosuke stepped backward.
He retreated.
This made the next Shinto priest laugh brightly.
“Ho ho. Come in, dear guest. I’ve humbly come to the gate to welcome you. Why cause this embarrassment? Come in, as the song you hummed implied—you are welcome to pass, so please don’t hesitate.”
But Ryosuke couldn’t resist the sound of his seductive voice.
“Er… no, it’s not that,” Ryosuke stammered, “I received your message, but something has come up. I’d like to reschedule this meeting on an auspicious day…”
He knew his behavior might not look favorable. He could understand that logically.
But his eyes, feeling as though they were stabbed by numerous needles.
His racing heart, on the verge of exploding.
The cold sweat soaking his back, drenching his hands and feet.
His entire body screamed, “You must not enter there.”
Even if it seemed suspicious or marked him as a traitor…
His subconscious howled that he must not step into that place.
“Auspicious day, you say?”
“Yes, an auspicious day, please,” Ryosuke replied.
“Auspicious day, eh? Hahahaha! Hahahahahah!”
The mention of this phrase made the next Shinto priest burst into roaring laughter. So loud it distorted through the phone’s speakers, yet he continued, unperturbed.
“Very well, auspicious day. That’s fine with me if that’s what you wish.”
The Shinto priest’s tone, still tinged with laughter, shifted abruptly to one filled with biting coldness.
“But tell me, do you like classics?”
“C-c-classics?”
“Certainly. You know, like the Four Books and Five Classics, or the Tao Te Ching. Things like that.”
“Um… as I am neither a warrior nor a scholar, I don’t have much interest in such things.”
As Ryosuke softly replied, his body involuntarily leaned back slightly—an unconscious signal rejecting further conversation. Yet, this seemed to please the Shinto priest, who laughed broadly.
“Ah, then you wouldn’t know the tale of Zhi Li Shu, I presume.”
“Could you enlighten me on that?”
An alarm went off in Ryosuke’s mind.
Something was wrong. His instincts shouted that something major was about to happen.
But even while sensing danger, he responded sincerely to the Shinto priest’s question, masking his unease to seem composed.
“Not to worry. It’s unnecessary knowledge for someone as exceptional as you. Zhi Li Shu was a man whose uselessness turned into a unique kind of utility. But you… you are far from useless. In fact, you’re quite special. Thus, you have no need for such tales. If you were to turn back now… well, let’s just say it would make a difference.”
“Uhh…”
Ryosuke understood now that the words coming from the Shinto priest carried deep, cryptic meaning.
He didn’t know the exact implications or intentions behind them.
But one thing was certain:
A choice had been presented.
As in their first encounter, Ryosuke was being tested.
Through what felt like an eternity in a single moment, Ryosuke thought hard and came to a decision.
“Yes… Yes, I’ll meet you on the auspicious day.”
His decision was clear: to leave.
He chose to trust his body’s instincts, his senses screaming for him to leave.
He opted to escape being prey and return to humanity, heading back to the safest, most comforting haven in the world—his home.
With polite courtesy, he bowed twice and began descending the shrine’s stairs. Once he was out of sight, he began running with all his might, paying no heed to his labored breathing or the steepness of the steps, only intent on distancing himself from the shrine. He climbed into his car, rested his head on the steering wheel, and only after adjusting his breathing and warming his ice-cold body with the heater could he finally steady his trembling hands, taking control of the wheel and driving away.
Ryosuke violently threw his smartphone aside and stepped on the gas.
For how long he drove, he didn’t know. But eventually, he encountered a traffic signal.
As he waited briefly at this signal, a familiar sound came from both sides.
Beep-beep… biip… biipbiip…
The same pedestrian crossing signal that had snapped him back to reality earlier.
Despite the signal being purely mechanical, somehow the lyrics of an old children’s song came vividly to Ryosuke’s mind—a song he had listened to countless times since childhood.
“Going is easy but coming back is scary.”
“Though scared, go ahead.”
“Doriyanse…”
“Doriyanse…”
Involuntarily, Ryosuke began to hum these lyrics, but just as he started, the signal changed again and the sound abruptly cut off.
With a small sigh, Ryosuke pressed the pedal once more.
To return.
To leave the shrine and return home.
