By Katie Hanna
Hiroshi sighs loud enough to be heard over the rain drumming the kitchen windows. “Whenever you’re finished, Tamiko…”
“Just a minute.” I rummage in the cupboard, silently cursing the overbooked Tokyo hotels that forced me to crash on my least-favorite cousin’s futon. If only our grandmother hadn’t died during cherry blossom season…
That isn’t fair, I scold myself. Growing up an ocean away, I didn’t know Oba-san very well, but I know she loved cherry blossoms. I remember her lifting me in her arms as a toddler to see the delicate pink flowers. It’s only fitting those flowers were the last thing she saw through her hospital window.
Hiroshi crosses his arms. “What are you looking for, Tamiko?”
“You don’t happen to know where Oba-san kept the sake, do you?”
My cousin eyes me coldly. “This is hardly the time—”
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to get drunk in your living room! I just thought we should leave the traditional offering for the ancestors.” My voice falters. “You know… like Oba-san always did…”
“Don’t bother,” Hiroshi says shortly. “I haven’t left any offerings since I moved in.”
I gape at him. “But you’re planning to start soon, right?”
“You still believe the ancestors are watching to see if we scatter a few grains of rice on their precious altar?” The bitterness in Hiroshi’s voice shocks me. “You’re American, Tamiko. You’re smarter than that.”
“They can hear you.” Even to my own ears, the words sound weak. “The spirits who live in the kamidana—they’re listening to every word you say.”
“That shrine is nothing but an empty box,” Hiroshi scoffs. “And on the off chance I’m wrong”—his smile curves like a samurai’s blade—“I’m taking it down tomorrow morning.”
“Taking it down?” I gasp. “Oba-san would never—”
“This is my house now, Tamiko.” Hiroshi strides to the door, flinging defiance over his shoulder. “I will not be watched in my own home.”
Tall white candles cast a warm glow over the wooden shrine, while brooding darkness fills the room.
Hiroshi’s taunt echoes in my mind. You’re American. You’re smarter than that.
What does being American have to do with it? Our house in California always had a kamidana where we made daily offerings to the spirits. It was part of the rhythm of everyday life. And my cousin thinks he can mock it?
Shaking my head, I fill the miniature dishes on the altar with sake, rice, and salt. The ancestors deserve one last feast before Hiroshi destroys their shrine forever.
Suddenly, the doors of the kamidana pop open. My breath catches. A ghostly blue form flickers into view, no taller than the candles. His tiny face twists into a fearsome scowl.
I shriek, stumbling backward.
The apparition squints up at me. “Is that you, Tamiko-chan? My eyesight is poor these days.”
“Who—who are you?”
“Your honored ancestor, of course,” the spirit says reprovingly. “Where are your manners, young lady?”
“Forgive me, Kami-sama.” I sink into a deep bow, fervently hoping I’ve chosen the correct title to address him. Kami-sama, reverend spirit, seems safe enough, but ancestors can be touchy.
“Oh, never mind that!” The blue spirit clucks his tongue. “I need your help.”
“Help with what?” I stammer.
“Do you have to ask?” He throws up his hands. “To drive Hiroshi out of this house before he destroys us all!”
“Destroys us?” I repeat mechanically.
“Without daily offerings, I become weak. Without a shrine, I become homeless. Without either, I cannot protect our family.” The spirit puffs his cheeks. “Do you think being an ancestral spirit is all fun and games, Tamiko-chan? Guarding the family fortunes is serious business!”
“Of course, Kami-sama.” I rub my eyes, half-expecting him to disappear. He remains distressingly visible. “But… how can you drive Hiroshi away? He owns this house.”
“The more offerings you bring me, the more powerful I grow.” The spirit chuckles. “Powerful enough to give your cousin the scare of his life!”
I have to admit, I like the sound of that. I hate seeing Hiroshi destroy everything our grandmother loved.
“If Hiroshi gives up his inheritance, what will happen to Oba-san’s house?”
“Naturally, I will ensure the property passes into your hands.”
“Mine?” I choke. “But I—I have to go back to America!”
“Go back to what, exactly?” The spirit turns a shrewd eye on me. “A useless liberal arts degree? An endless job search? An apartment that grows more expensive every month?”
My voice rises to a squeak. “How do you know all that?”
“I’m your ancestor. I know everything about you.” His eyes twinkle. “Your mother is right, though. You should have been a doctor. The pay is much better.”
“Fine!” My hands shoot up in surrender. “I’ll help you! But only if you promise me a decent position in my field within two months of moving to Japan!”
“I am your ancestor,” the spirit repeats with a pompous nod. “Why would you ever doubt me?”
Hiroshi stumbles into the room, yawning. I’ll never understand why he insists on rising at four in the morning, but it’s perfect for our plan.
I glance at the kamidana. The altar is piled with as much food as it will hold.
The more offerings you bring me, the more powerful I grow.
Suddenly, the murky room turns pitch-black. I hear Hiroshi gasp. A fiery spirit bursts from the kamidana, wreathed in eerie blue flames.
I stifle a cry. This isn’t the fussy little fellow who greeted me a few hours ago. This is a glowing giant, pulsing with furious energy.
“You have dishonored your ancestors!” The thunderous roar rattles the dishes on the altar. “Leave this house and never return!”
Hiroshi’s scream tears through the darkness as he bolts out the front door.
The spirit’s booming chuckle echoes like a rockslide. “I don’t think he’ll be back, Tamiko-chan.”
I shake my head, unable to hide my grin. “I don’t think so either, Kami-sama.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This was great!😂 So many great lines! I can almost hear some of my own ancestors say, “You should have been a doctor. The pay is much better.”
Thanks, Arlan! :D Haha, right? I think a few of my own ancestors would say the same…
Now I’m intrigued , and want more !
Good writing :)
Thanks so much, Jami! Glad you enjoyed the story! :D
I like how the ancestors knows everything about Tamiko, but still leaves the ultimate decision to him.
Yeah! Free will, baby!
Thanks for commenting! Glad you enjoyed the story :D
LOL! This was hilarious. Is it bad that I laughed at the “If only our grandmother hadn’t died during cherry blossom season…” line? Tamiko has my kind of dark humor. xD
Haha, thanks so much, Hannah! :D I’m glad Tamiko’s humor tickled your funny bone ;)
LOL This was fun!
Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it! :D
I laughed out loud at the “Your mother was right” line… ;)
Ah, the eternal pain of the humanities major…
;)