Pathway to Japanese Literature

First Story

In a corner of the cemetery at a certain temple in the city stood a somewhat unusual monument.
It was a structure built by piling up stone blocks of volcanic rock to form a tall mound, with a flat stone monument erected at its summit.
The inscription read “Miroku-san,” for long ago there had been an ascetic named Miroku who secluded himself deep in the mountains, attained Zen enlightenment, and ended his life; this monument had been built for that person.
The inscription stated it was rebuilt in Taisho 12 [1923], and since Taisho 12 was the year of the Great Kantō Earthquake, they had likely repaired it after part of the stone-paved foundation crumbled or the monument tilted.
The entire structure was very old, and behind the monument grew an ancient oak tree.

The people in the vicinity called this Miroku-san “Miroku-san.” Taking the literal sound of the characters, they affectionately referred to it not as “Miroku-sama” but “Miroku-san,” infusing a sense of familiarity. And morning and evening, without anyone in particular taking initiative, offerings of salt and white rice heaped on white paper came to be placed before Miroku-san.

Until about three years prior, nearly no one had paid this Miroku-san any heed. The entire mound had grown wild with weeds and shrubs—though since it was built by stacking volcanic rocks, it did not form an eerie thicket—and instead lay quietly abandoned in the shade of surrounding trees, unnoticed.

However, whenever Eguchi Widow and her daughter passed by Miroku-san, they always bowed their heads slightly. It wasn’t a matter of whether they believed in Miroku-san or not; it had simply become a natural custom.

Due to postwar conditions, neither the temple grounds nor cemetery were properly maintained, with wooden fences and hedges left broken, making passage unrestricted. From Eguchi-san’s house to the main road, cutting through the cemetery was the shortest route, and since Miroku-san stood near that shortcut, they often passed by it. And whenever they passed by, both Eguchi-san and her daughter would bow slightly without a second thought.

However, with various matters at Eguchi-san’s house not going as she wished and her daughter’s health remaining poor, from late spring onward Eguchi-san had begun to feel increasingly weighed down, sensing an anxious shadow within her heart.

During a visit to A Woman, with whom she was on familiar terms, Eguchi-san confided these matters during their everyday talk.

A Woman was what one might call a war widow and an ordinary person, though in truth—while she herself never revealed this to anyone—she had deeply cultivated devotions in both Shinto and Buddhist practices and mastered special abilities.
Eguchi-san was aware of this.
Both being around forty-five years old and fellow widows, they likely engaged in more personal exchanges than ordinary housewives.

Eguchi-san said while watching A Woman’s expression.
“Something feels off—could you please have a look?”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘look’?”
“Oh, there’s no need to feign ignorance.”
“It’s not that I’m feigning ignorance...”
“But if this escalates, I’ll be the one facing difficulties.”
“Don’t worry—I won’t impose on you...”
A Woman fixed her gaze into empty space.
Though naturally gaunt, her pale cheeks tensed further.

“I generally understand, but…”
“In any case, please assist with the sutra chanting.”

Eguchi-san, too, could generally perform sutra chanting.

A Woman took her rosary in hand and sat perfectly straight before the altar. On the shelf above the floor cabinet, with its back to the round window in the wall, there was a Buddhist altar on one side and, on the other, a small whitewood shrine enshrining Hokushin Myōken and Konohanasakuya-hime. Quietly, the sutra chanting began. The Dharma, incomparably profound and infinitely subtle, / Is rarely encountered even in millions of kalpas. Now I have seen, heard, received, and upheld; / I vow to comprehend the Tathāgata’s supreme truth.

Then their voices rose as they finished chanting the Opening Sutra Verse; skipping the other sutras, they abruptly entered into the prayer incantation.

As she chanted the prayer incantation over and over, A Woman eventually felt her voice catching.
Clasping her hands together with elbows out, she poured strength into them until they went numb and continued chanting the incantation, her voice gradually growing softer and thinner, while within her closed eyelids, something manifested.

A soundless voice could be heard.

It’s Miroku.

After a pause, it could be heard again.

*A fire will break out soon, so you should take care.*

After a pause, it could be heard again.

*Since I am a fire-prevention deity, I will protect them as much as possible.*

Then, she entered a subtle state that was neither quite dialogue nor mastery.

The voice of the prayer incantation gradually began to emerge peacefully. Her spirits clearing, A Woman opened her eyes, continued chanting the prayer incantation for a while longer, then abruptly stopped, and finally finished reciting the “Jeweled Stupa Verse” and the “Votive Prayer.”

A Woman turned back toward Eguchi-san and fixed her gaze on her.

“Do you know someone called Miroku?”

Eguchi-san looked up at A Woman’s face quizzically.

“If you mean Miroku-san, I know of him.”

“What kind of figure is he?”

Thereupon, Eguchi-san spoke of Miroku-san and confessed that she had been casually bowing in passing without any particular reason.

“Now I understand.”
“That Miroku-san is the fire-prevention deity of this neighborhood’s land.”
“Since a fire may break out soon, please visit to pray and keep things from getting serious.”
“Simply offering salt and rice will suffice.”
“It would be best if as many people as possible visit together.”
“If it is left neglected, disaster will occur.”
“I too shall pay a visit in the coming days.”

With an apparent sigh of relief, A Woman smiled faintly, slouched her posture, and returned to her usual friendly tone.

Eguchi-san furthermore consulted her about various matters.
A Woman gave her advice.
Then their conversation turned to casual small talk.

Now, the house where Eguchi-san lived was a large one that had apparently been a boarding house before the war, with many rooms where nearly ten families resided, each cooking for themselves.

Eguchi-san took concern for Miroku-san and went around spreading the word.
Because she had been strictly instructed to keep A Woman’s involvement secret, she spoke as if she had vaguely heard about it from somewhere.
Then, they roughly divided into three opinions.
One was a noncommittal stance: "Well, if that’s the case, we might as well pay our respects."
Another was an indifferent group: “Such things don’t matter at all.”
One opposing view held that in this scientific age, one shouldn’t spout such nonsense.
They showed no signs of reaching an agreement at all.

Only Eguchi-san and two other families occasionally paid visits to Miroku-san. They cleaned around the monument and pulled up weeds. A Woman too, guided by Eguchi-san, paid a visit and performed sutra chanting.

And then, one night about two months later, something strange happened.

Late at night, A Woman suddenly awoke.
It was strangely suffocating, an uncanny feeling.
As she fixed her gaze into space, a soundless voice could be heard.

Water austerity.

However, after hearing that voice, A Woman came to her senses and thought this was going to be troublesome.
Although it was summer, getting up in the middle of the night to pour water over herself was undoubtedly a trying task.
Even so, she found herself unable to resist that soundless voice commanding the water austerity.

She got up, entered the bathroom, poured tap water into the bathtub, and stripped completely naked.

Now as for water austerity - whether one would use a bucket, hand bucket, or washbasin to douse oneself was something decided in the moment. How many pourings there would be was likewise determined naturally. This was never by her own will. From past experience she knew this well.

That night she picked up the washbasin. She filled it with water and poured it over her shoulders. The first cascade chilled her sharply; from the second came a cleansing clarity, and when seven pourings were done her hands halted abruptly.

She wiped her body, slipped on her nightclothes, returned to her room, and changed into the clothes hanging on the rack. That room was her daily living quarters, her bedroom, and her place of prayer. She pushed the futon aside and sat before the altar.

She lit the ritual lamp, worshiped, and the moment she closed her eyes slightly, she uttered a cry.

“Ah.”

She saw it clearly.
From a small square window in the middle of the second floor of a large two-story house, thick smoke was billowing out...
Miroku-san…
She recited the Opening Sutra Verse.
Next, she recited Chapter XVI of the Lotus Sutra, “Life Span of the Tathāgata.”

自我得佛来 所経諸劫数

無量百千萬 億戴阿僧祇

常説法教化 無数億衆生

令入於佛道 ……………

She repeated this sutra twice, then moved into the prayer incantation, and focused her mind on Miroku-san.
Her mind grew light, her body grew light, and naturally she recited the "Praise to the Jeweled Stupa" and the votive prayer.

Extinguishing the ritual lamp, changing into her nightclothes, she peacefully fell asleep.

Even when the next day came, she no longer dwelled on the events of the previous night and set about her household tasks.

That day, while the evening sun still hung high, Eguchi-san arrived.
She must have rushed over—beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, her breath coming in short gasps.
The moment she saw A Woman’s face, she blurted out:

“It happened—there was a fire.”
“But it stayed small, thank goodness.”

“I already knew.”
“Do come inside.”

“No, I really can’t linger.”

They spoke standing at the entrance.

“How did you know?”

A Woman recounted the events of the previous night.
Eguchi-san stared at her composed demeanor with a look of bewilderment, but now she hurriedly recounted the course of events.

Around noon that day, a fire broke out from the room of the person living in the middle of the second floor.
They had carelessly left the iron on when going out shopping, and due to overheating, it scorched the tatami mats and apparently set the sliding doors ablaze.
By the time it was discovered, thick black smoke was already billowing from the window.
Everyone worked together to put it out, and fortunately it didn’t turn into a major disaster, though there was apparently quite a commotion for a time.

“Just as you said.”
“Miroku-san is amazing, isn’t he?”
“Or perhaps he protected us?”
“It might be a warning for the future.”
“Anyway, please keep praying diligently.”

“Yes, it should be all right now.”

“You’re awfully composed, aren’t you? I rushed here in a hurry to inform you. I still have various matters to attend to, so I’ll come again.”

Eguchi-san hurried back home.

Then, when the cleanup after the small fire had been completed, Eguchi-san kept A Woman’s name secret while recounting the sequence of events in some detail to the people.
There remained those who dismissed it as mere coincidence, but those paying respects at Miroku-san’s site increased markedly, and at the temple’s head priest’s behest, a memorial stupa came to be erected.

Eguchi-san had even contemplated holding a festival for Miroku-san, but ultimately resolved to fully follow A Woman’s counsel that avoiding excessive pomp would be wisest.

And after that, before the monument at Miroku-san, offerings of rice and salt continued without anyone in particular making them, though it was impossible to know how long that would last. However, Miroku-san came to be widely recognized as the fire-protection deity of the surrounding land.

Part Two

Among A Woman’s close friends was a woman named Murao.
She, too, was a widow of the same age.

One autumn day, A Woman visited Murao for some trivial errand, but being women—and widows at that—their aimless chatter spread out into trivial topics, branching from one thing to another. In the midst of this, Murao suddenly said:

“Tell me, do things like house layouts and directional alignments truly exist?”
“What do you think?”

Unlike Eguchi-san, Murao was completely unaware of A Woman’s faith.

A Woman smiled softly.

“Well, you know, there certainly are people in the world who make a fuss about house layouts or obsess over directional alignments, but it’s strange for *you* to bring up such things, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not that *I* believe in such things. However, there was something that bothered me a bit, and when I gradually looked into it, it turned out to be rather strange.”

“Strange things—or perhaps what you might call ‘reason beyond reason’—are plentiful in this world.”

“Well… you see…”

Murao-san paused to think for a moment, seemed to organize her thoughts, and then spoke.

It concerned Murao-san’s daughter’s marital home.

The Sagara family’s large estate had been reduced to ashes during wartime air raids; on part of the land, the Sagara family built their own residence anew and subdivided the remaining plot, where six compact houses were subsequently constructed.
One of these was the house of Murao-san’s son-in-law, Mr. Imai.

When building his own house, Mr. Imai had meticulously scrutinized the blueprints; though not a superstitious man, he had avoided societal conventions deemed unfavorable regarding directions such as the demon gate and its opposite.

And when the house was completed, he brought his mother who had been living in the countryside.
The mother took to bed with a mild cerebral hemorrhage.
Her condition eventually improved, but this time, the girl was hospitalized with an ear disease.
This too eventually subsided, but next, the wife developed a chest ailment and remains unwell to this day.

Illnesses and misfortunes overlapping are something that often occurs in life, and while one could dismiss the situation at Mr. Imai’s household as just that without another thought, depending on how one considered it, it remained troubling.

Then, upon reflection, none of the six houses built on that subdivided land had anything good happening.
One house had a burglar break in and make off with the wife’s entire wardrobe.
One house had a daughter who was frail and frequently absent from school.
In the other three houses, each had women suffering from lung ailments, just as in Mr. Imai’s case.

Murao-san let out a sigh.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s all a bit strange?”

A Woman had been listening with brief interjections, but as the corners of her eyes lifted slightly and her gaze fixed, she suddenly spoke.

“It’s an affliction of the land.”

After saying it, A Woman abruptly caught herself.
She felt a faint pang of regret—she’d voiced something unnecessary.

“Huh? When you say ‘affliction of the land’—”

Murao-san asked earnestly. If it had been someone else’s problem, that would be one thing—but her own daughter’s marital home stood there, and her daughter was indeed among the afflicted.

A Woman was perplexed and decided to adopt as vague a tone as possible.

“I don’t know what sort of place it is, but couldn’t it be a plot of land with a female disturbance?”

“Is there really such a thing as a plot of land with a female disturbance?”

“There are all sorts of things in this world, you know.”

“A plot of land with a female disturbance… How could you possibly know such a thing?”

“Oh no, I just suddenly felt that way, you know.”

“I simply can’t believe it.”

A Woman fell silent and stared fixedly into space, but then her brows twitched into a furrow.

“Is your young lady—no, your daughter—quite unwell?”

“It’s not exactly serious, but she just can’t seem to shake this slight fever.”

“Well, do make sure she follows the doctor’s instructions and gets plenty of rest. That should come first, and then… let me see…”

A Woman was silent for a moment but suddenly spoke.

“Within that land plot, there should be something enshrined.”
“And then, a large tree must have been cut down there.”
“Do you happen to know anything about that?”

“I haven’t heard of such things, but…”

“Then why don’t you investigate?”

“Then what should be done next?”

“Well, there’s no need to rush.”
“I shall tell you later.”

The discussion about the land plot ended there, and A Woman took her leave.

Two days later, Murao-san hurriedly came to visit A Woman.

When shown into the parlor, Murao-san, appearing impatient even as A Woman was about to prepare tea, suddenly spoke.

“How strange—it’s exactly as you said.”

“What on earth are you referring to?”

“There, about that Mr. Sagara’s land plot…”

After that, Murao-san went to Mr. Imai’s place and questioned whether what A Woman had said was true.

One thing was quickly understood. At the corner of the Sagara family’s estate stood a small Inari shrine. On a foundation of stacked stones stood a wooden shrine. During the wartime air raids—perhaps protected by a thicket of trees—it must have escaped being burned down. Those trees too had largely been cut down for fuel and now stood exposed to the rain. And it had simply been left abandoned.

The other one no longer remained but had been discovered through inquiries. The entire subdivision area formed a gentle slope—when Imai-san’s lower house was built, it was said there had been a large tree stump there. When leveling the ground for construction, that tree stump had been removed.

A Woman listened attentively to the account and then tilted her head to one side.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, both were indeed there.”
“There should be one more, though.”

“What sort of thing is it?”

“It seems to be something that was cast aside.”

“Then let’s go investigate again.”

Murao-san gazed pensively at A Woman’s face.
“But really, how strange—how could you possibly know such a thing?”
A Woman smiled nonchalantly.

“In truth, I have entered the path of faith to some degree and continue my practice even now, but it hasn’t progressed as I hoped. However, I must clarify—I am somewhat different from ordinary ascetics, fortune-tellers, or those new religious groups that are popular nowadays… So it’s not that I’m saying this for that reason, but please don’t tell others about me. I beg of you.”

Murao-san looked as if she had been thoroughly overwhelmed and said nothing more.

Three days later, according to Murao-san’s report, the third one had also been discovered.
From the Sagara family’s estate, across the road in the grassy ruins of a burned-out area, stood a small stone Jizō statue—about four shaku (roughly 1.3 meters) tall—all by itself.

Now that the three things had been discovered, Murao-san asked what should be done with them.

A Woman first emphasized:

“I must make this clear: the patients must not neglect their medical treatment.”
“If they don’t do that thoroughly, it won’t be resolved.”
“As for my role, it concerns the spiritual realm—matters that lie, so to speak, in the shadow of science.”
“While fully undergoing medical treatment, if one were to perform this as well, that would be ideal… but I suppose it might be quite difficult.”

Enshrining the Inari shrine anew—this was to be entrusted to the Sagara family.
Purifying and cleansing the place where the tree stump had been—this could be done by a Shinto priest, Buddhist priest, or ascetic; they were to have a suitable person perform it and carry it out together.
Enshrining the Jizō statue anew and bringing it into communal awareness—this too was to be entrusted to a suitable person and carried out collectively.
With these three steps, it had seemed an exceedingly straightforward matter.

Since Murao-san now completely believed what A Woman said, she promptly went to Imai-san's place, explained the situation to the couple, and urged them to begin putting it into practice.

However, when it came down to it, just as A Woman had said, the people's discussions proved difficult to unify.
It was just like with Miroku-san.

Mr. and Mrs. Imai were persuaded by Murao-san and agreed, and there were others who also approved, but there were those who were completely indifferent and even some who strongly opposed.
After all, it was something that would cost some money and, from a common-sense perspective, seemed like a superstitious matter.
The common belief was that all superstitions must be eradicated.

Moreover, on the Sagara family’s side, since the master was away on a trip, even when they tried to negotiate, they could not obtain a clear response.

The days merely passed idly by.

Murao-san, having inquired about the situation, said to A Woman.

“It seems the talks aren’t progressing at all.”
“There seems to be no one willing to take the lead.”

A Woman answered quietly.

“I had rather thought it would come to that.”

To Murao-san, even A Woman herself appeared coldly detached.

In the midst of this, the situation changed completely.

When the master of the Sagara family returned from his trip and heard the aforementioned story, he said it would be acceptable to enshrine the Inari shrine. He said there was no need to dwell on such matters; if it had originally been enshrined within the estate, re-enshrining it anew was acceptable, and accordingly—though he didn’t know who this person was—he wanted Murao-san’s so-called friend to attend as well. In exchange, however, regarding the tree stump and the Jizō statue, his household would have absolutely no involvement.

The people of the subdivided land—excluding those opposed—decided to carry out a purification of the property.
As they investigated further, they learned that long ago, when the tree had still stood lush before becoming a stump, a woman had hanged herself from its branches.

And so, the Sagara family’s Inari shrine was re-enshrined anew.
A Woman was reluctantly prevailed upon to open the old shrine hall while keeping her name concealed, but upon examining its interior, they discovered it was in fact a rare Meoto Inari.

The purification of the property was simply carried out by having a suitable person perform it.

Now, regarding the Jizō statue: since the owner of the property lived far away, when inquiries were made, the response was that the land was up for sale and that they wished for the Jizō to be disposed of as deemed appropriate.
Furthermore, according to their account, that Jizō statue had indeed been something their grandmother had picked up from somewhere long ago, and ever since then, they had heard tell that their family’s business had prospered greatly.

Though called a Jizō statue, it was a natural stone roughly four shaku (about 1.3 meters) tall, its surface carved to leave a base at the bottom and bring the Jizō’s form into bas-relief.
And on one side, the characters “Dedicated to ○○in ○○ Temple, Devotee [Name]’s Spirit” were carved, so it likely served as both a grave marker and a Jizō statue, carved to pray for the deceased’s peaceful repose.
On the other side were the characters “Mizunoe Tatsu (壬辰), Ten February 14,” but with only this, it was impossible to tell from when it dated. The stone was quite chipped and damaged, appearing very old.

No one tried to dispose of this stone.
Upon hearing about this from Murao-san, A Woman decided to handle it herself.
Not far from there lived a head priest with whom she had long been acquainted, so when she consulted him, he willingly provided an open space within the temple grounds.
The temple was one of high prestige, but having suffered war damage, it had only recently been rebuilt on a smaller scale, leaving its precincts spacious.

As for the expenses for the Jizō statue’s memorial service, they collected only voluntary contributions from the people of the Sagara family’s subdivided land, and A Woman covered the shortfall.
Since the head priest had never been concerned with matters like the amount of money in the first place, it was left to A Woman’s discretion, however modest.
For transporting the stone, a carpenter living in one of the subdivided land households provided a handcart and labor.

Passing through the temple’s stone gate and proceeding along the stone-paved path, they saw on the left a large sutra mound monument flanked by newly planted thickets of Japanese cypress foliage and kuretake bamboo. Beside that thicket, they enshrined the Jizō statue, offered flowers, and erected a memorial stupa for the unattended spirits.

With several people from the subdivided land behind them, the elderly head priest and A Woman—standing slightly apart—chanted sutras in unison. Between the initial Opening Sutra Verse and the final Treasure Tower Verse, chapters from the Lotus Sutra—“Chapter II: Expedient Means” and “Chapter XVI: The Life Span of the Tathāgata”—were chanted.

Thus the Jizō statue found its place there, but though it had originally served as an unattended grave marker, being a Jizō statue now required some name. While A Woman was in the temple’s reception room expressing gratitude to the elderly head priest and conversing with him, something abruptly surfaced in her thoughts.

“That Jizō statue—what would you think of calling it the Life-Prolonging Jizō?”

“Life-Prolonging Jizō… That would be acceptable.”

Thus it was decided to name it the Life-Prolonging Jizō, though its essential meaning differed slightly from conventional interpretations. This Jizō statue had been abandoned long ago before being retrieved by the grandmother of that property’s owner, then cast aside once more—only to be rescued again and brought into the world anew. In this way, the Jizō itself had prolonged its life.

Before this Life-Prolonging Jizō, flowers and votive offerings came to be made from time to time thereafter. The residents of the Sagara family’s subdivided land would visit to pay their respects. Gradually, the ailing women there too began to recover.

**Part Three**

Among widows of the same age as A Woman, there was one named Koizumi-san, with whom she was also on friendly terms.
There seemed to be a great many widows in the world.

For a trivial errand, A Woman visited Koizumi-san and ended up getting engrossed in conversation.
It was early spring—one might say they were kept by the warmth of the kotatsu.

On the staggered shelves sat an unfamiliar new inkstone box.
The lid was scattered with silver inlay against a dull vermilion background.

“What a stylish piece.”
“Did you acquire this new?”

“Tatsuyoshi made it.”
“On a whim, he starts nothing but trivial things—there’s no managing him.”
“It took an awfully long time, but it was finally completed.”

Tatsuyoshi was Koizumi-san’s son, specialized in architecture, and was a graduate of an art school.

“He’s truly skillful.”

“He just wants to do whatever he pleases.”
“When things get a bit busy, he starts complaining.”
“Lately, he’s been going to Matsushima every day.”

Koizumi-san was proud of Tatsuyoshi.
While on the surface she spoke as if criticizing him, her tone was in fact praising.

Matsushima was a large, first-class traditional restaurant located near the geisha district, a short distance away. Although it had suffered war damage, they had rebuilt several rooms in its original location and were thriving. Because it was cramped, they began building an extension, and Tatsuyoshi, who had been involved there before, also took on that work.

However, though Tatsuyoshi was a specialist in architecture, he was a technician skilled in elaborate construction work and was not adept at handling large-scale blueprints. However, the proprietress who favored Tatsuyoshi began consulting him on one thing after another. There was a person who said they were willing to make a considerable investment, and once that matter was settled, she wanted to rebuild it all at once into a vast house like in the old days and sought Tatsuyoshi’s opinion on matters such as the layout. Tatsuyoshi seemed somewhat troubled.

Koizumi-san spoke of such matters as one of ordinary everyday conversations.

A Woman had been casually listening without much thought, but before she knew it, she had blurted it out.

“The funding matter won’t be settled within this year. Also, it seems the proprietress is considering expanding her business extensively, but that won’t do. Well, she should add rooms one by one and proceed steadily.”

Thereupon, both of them fell into an awkward silence. On A Woman’s part, a feeling of regret arose at having said something unnecessary. As for Koizumi-san, having casually gleaned from Murao-san—whom they both knew—a fragment of A Woman’s hidden aspect, she now pondered A Woman’s words in her heart.

Before long, A Woman laughed casually.

“I’m sorry for saying something unnecessary.
“I just... had a feeling about that, so...”

“What are you talking about? I don’t think anything of Matsushima or such things.”

And then, the conversation shifted to other matters.

However, later on, Koizumi-san relayed A Woman’s words to Tatsuyoshi, and Tatsuyoshi, in the course of some matter, also brought it to Matsushima’s proprietress’s attention.

Had that been all, nothing would have come of it, but Koizumi-san took the next opportunity to spread rumors about Matsushima again.
She had merely conveyed what she had heard from Tatsuyoshi, with no ulterior motive beyond that.
Anyway, women do tend to be talkative creatures.

“According to what Tatsuyoshi heard from the proprietress, it seems the funding matter still won’t be settled within this year after all.”
“And it seems the proprietress also agrees that proceeding steadily was the way to go.”

“Of course it is—that’s the truth.”

It was merely a casual response, but A Woman then spoke as if advising.

“In that household, there must be something that was once fervently worshipped.”
“It has been left neglected now.”
“If you were to worship it once more, there would surely be good fortune.”
“It seems to be akin to Fushimi Inari, but...”

“Shall I let Tatsuyoshi hear about that?”

A Woman started in surprise, as if waking from a dream.

“You mustn’t.”
“You mustn’t do that.”
“Please keep this a secret.”
“I merely had a passing thought.”

A Woman thoroughly emphasized her point.

But for Koizumi-san, such a thing was not particularly significant—though still somewhat concerning—so she ended up telling Tatsuyoshi.

Then, Tatsuyoshi brought a significant request.

At Matsushima, they had previously enshrined and venerated Fushimi Inari.
After the war damage, it was left as it was, but the proprietress had intended to enshrine it once more.
Then came Tatsuyoshi’s account, and the proprietress was thoroughly astonished.
How had she even known it was Fushimi Inari?
The previous matters—the funding and business methods—had made complete sense, and this latest revelation struck her even more deeply.
Due to the nature of her business, various people—fortune-tellers, diviners, and the like—had come before, but there was something insincere about them all.
But this time was different.
She’s supposed to be a friend of Tatsuyoshi’s mother, but what kind of person is she?

Matsushima’s proprietress had once been a geisha, was now over sixty years old, and remained vigorous and headstrong. She was of an unyielding nature—straightforward and impatient. Having become completely enamored with this person said to be a friend of Tatsuyoshi’s mother, she insisted Tatsuyoshi bring her without fail. With gardeners already on site for the expansion and needing to promptly select a location to enshrine Inari, she decided to have that person handle it, then declared she would depart for Kyoto to offer formal thanks at Fushimi Inari and discuss the schedule upon her return.

Upon hearing Tatsuyoshi’s story, even Koizumi-san found herself flustered. She rushed over to A Woman’s place and pleaded for her to do something about it.

A Woman furrowed her brows.

“So I did tell you from the start, didn’t I?”

“Yes, that’s true—but I never imagined things would turn out like this…”

“I still do not wish to turn my path of faith into a commodity.”
“Given that it’s Matsushima-san, she’ll no doubt speak of gratitude or some such thing.”
“Somehow I feel I’m being seen as no different from ordinary ascetics or fortune-tellers.”

“Well then, I shall make sure to convey that properly.”
“In any case, please reconsider.”
“I beg of you.”

Koizumi-san showed restraint and did not press the matter insistently.

However, upon returning from Kyoto, Matsushima’s proprietress began pressing incessantly. Not only did she send repeated messages through Tatsuyoshi, but she even had a maid visit Koizumi-san’s home to implore her to petition the other party. They explained that with no location yet decided for enshrining Inari-san, it was hindering the gardener’s work and leaving them in difficulties.

Hearing this, even A Woman found herself unable to flatly refuse. On the strict condition that her name remain utterly concealed, she resolved to accompany Koizumi-san.

On the appointed day, A Woman clad herself in sutras and set out. Since it would be detestable to be seen as no different from an ordinary ascetic, she applied her makeup with meticulous care and donned a fine kimono with a shioze-patterned obi and a crested haori over it. Koizumi-san was slightly shorter than A Woman and somehow looked like an attending maid.

The entrance to Matsushima was a compact yet chic structure. When one stepped inside, a gravel-covered gentle slope spread out unexpectedly, where at the far end stood a thicket of winter bamboo and the left side formed the genkan step.

A Woman paused briefly before the winter bamboo thicket.

—Here.

Though a voiceless sound resonated, she walked into the building with an air of feigned ignorance.

Guided by the maid, they settled into a room, whereupon the proprietress promptly appeared and served them splendid confectioneries and fruits.
The proprietress had a healthy complexion and spoke briskly, with only her hair—tightly bound in a manner befitting her age—betraying her years.
She chattered rapidly about various things.
Mostly about old times—festival markets, ceremonial events, even stories about the Tori Festival.
Moreover, since it was still morning, there were no guests, but there were many tasks, so she frequently had to leave her seat.
A middle-aged woman, likely the head maid, acted as the proprietress’s substitute.

Inari-san’s matter was not brought up at all.
Since it seemed futile to wait any longer, when A Woman subtly signaled, Koizumi-san broached the matter.

When the discussion turned to the business at hand, this time it progressed rapidly.
Matsushima’s proprietress and the head maid guided A Woman around various spots.
Though the estate still retained ample space, that area was reserved for future expansion, and no suitable place could be found in the garden either; in the end, they were led to the side of the proprietress’s sitting room.

“I thought perhaps this spot might do…”

The proprietress appeared to have been considering that location from the beginning.

A sharp intuition pierced A Woman’s chest.

—A place of defilement.

Though A Woman herself did not comprehend the reason, she quietly spoke.

“Somehow, this place feels impure to me.”

The proprietress and head maid exchanged glances and nodded in unison.
The proprietress then explained that while she had initially deemed it suitable for being near the sitting room, upon consideration—yes—just beyond that wooden fence lay a road where people frequently urinated at night.

If that spot was unsuitable, there seemed to be no other suitable places.
The proprietress let out a sigh.

“What should we do?”

A Woman said without hesitation.

"No, the location has already been decided."

This time, it became A Woman’s turn to guide them, and the group exited from the entrance to the front.

A Woman pointed to the area around the winter bamboo thicket.

“I believe this would be suitable here.”

“Madam Proprietress.”
The head maid said.
“I had mentioned that as well, hadn’t I?”

The proprietress nodded.

Once the matter was settled, A Woman decided to take her leave immediately.
Though the proprietress and head maid persistently tried to detain her, insisting that lunch was prepared, A Woman politely declined.

When they emerged onto the main street, Koizumi-san looked up at A Woman.

"I must say, I'm truly impressed by you."

A Woman gave a slight knowing smile.

“That’s really nothing at all.”

But more than that, another matter arose afterward.

Once the location was decided, Matsushima’s proprietress embarked on the construction of Inari-san’s shrine without a day’s delay.
First, the ground had to be leveled, and then the site purified.
She requested that A Woman perform the purification of the site.
Since A Woman’s address was kept confidential, once again, the maid made a special trip to Koizumi-san’s place.
She came twice.
Koizumi-san went back and forth to A Woman’s place.

A Woman resigned herself to the course she had embarked upon. Instead, she presented one condition: when the Inari shrine was built, they would need to conduct the spirit-invoking ritual to enshrine the Fushimi Inari talisman, perform offering ceremonies, and recite norito prayers—but since an amateur like herself couldn’t handle such things, she stipulated that they must commission an official Shinto priest. “If you would just abide by that condition—though it’s an amateur’s self-taught method—I will undertake the purification of the site,” she replied.

After they had discussed various details, on the day, A Woman once again meticulously applied makeup, selected her attire, and set off together with Koizumi-san.

Against a backdrop of winter bamboo thickets, the ground had been leveled flat. In that small area, bamboo poles stood at the four cardinal directions, and a sacred rope had been strung. In the center stood a sakaki branch adorned with a ritual wand, and salt had been mounded there as well.

A Woman, her slender frame leaning slightly forward, stood perfectly still, clapped her hands, and recited the “Purification Prayer.”

At Takama’s plain they gather—Sumerakamutsu Kamurogi Kamurogami no Mikoto bearing divine authority, Sumemioya Kamu Izanagi no Mikoto: when ablutions were performed at Tsukushi’s Himuka, Tachibana’s Odono Ahagi Plain…

She first invoked the eight million gods, then scattered salt while chanting the "Purification of Body and Mind."

May the distant gods purify and cleanse.

As clear as a mirror, as pure as a sword, as flawless as a jewel—grant us the sacred will to be resolute…

Having finished chanting, she suddenly closed her eyes.
The blue sky felt too high, the sunlight too vivid—merely sensing this, she found herself in a realm beyond body and mind, a different plane altogether.
The next moment—as she suddenly realized—she found herself supported under one arm by Koizumi-san.
As if pushing Koizumi-san aside, she stamped her feet and clapped her hands.
Her cheeks were pale, almost devoid of color.
Even so, she turned back toward the proprietress with a composed demeanor and gave instructions regarding the remaining procedures.

Then she returned to the guest room, drank only tea, declined lunch as before, and departed.

When they emerged onto the main street, Koizumi-san whispered.

“I’m truly sorry for asking something so unreasonable of you.”

“No, thanks to you, I felt quite uplifted.”

A Woman smiled gently and cast her eyes toward the distant sky.

At Matsushima, they promptly embarked on constructing the Inari shrine: first building up a stone foundation, then securing atop it an unpainted wooden hall with a copper-plated roof.
The spirit-invoking ritual was also conducted by enlisting a Shinto priest.
They even held a grand festival, erecting banners and hanging curtains as in the old days.
The proprietress’s sole regret was that A Woman had not come to the festival, it was said.