Island of the Corpse-Eating Butterfly, March 22nd, Part 1

I didn't have a good dream. It felt like a long, long nightmare, but I don't remember the details. I just feel like I was thinking about Katano before I went to sleep. Katano, who disappeared, and the woman who called herself Ageha. Perhaps they moved to Oura. If that's the case, it will be hard for me to find them. Just remembering the eerie atmosphere of that mansion makes me feel uncomfortable.

When I realized it, it was already nearly noon.

Today is the day of the strange custom of the Gosen-sama. They say that if you encounter the Gosen-sama on the road, you will be dragged into the sea and drown. Are they really all staying inside because they are afraid of such things?

Yasu opened the window of his room and looked out at the street. He looked out thinking there might be no one there, but without needing to worry, there were tourists walking around here and there. It's not like dead bodies wash up that easily. In fact, there were no fatal accidents last year. There is nothing to be afraid of.

Legends are not very reliable, and they are nothing more than superstitions. Something must have happened a long time ago, and it just became a habit.

Because of this way of thinking, the professor doesn't look favorably upon my thesis.

"You lack respect for the culture and customs of the people living in the village. You wrote such a good thesis a year ago, so why have you changed so much all of a sudden?"

That had become the professor's catchphrase. That memory irritates Yasu.

"If it were Katano, he would conduct interviews sincerely and carefully, even if it took time. That's why he gains their trust and is able to learn about their customs and traditions in depth. With your method, they become guarded, and you can't dig deep into the subject matter. Don't you want to respect the other party and deepen your understanding of their faith?"

The professor says that, but Yasu has always thought that since it is ultimately based on blind faith, misunderstandings, or assumptions, he would only believe it if it were credible and could be fact-checked, and that is the stance he takes in his research.

From that point of view, he gets along well with his peers who look at folklore with a skeptical eye.

Yasu changed his clothes, went to the dining room downstairs, and ordered breakfast-slash-lunch. While he was doing that, the clock passed noon.

I suppose I have to verify the legend, he thought, as he reluctantly got up.

As Yasu was about to go outside, the landlady called out to him.

"Oh, are you going out? Be careful."

Yasu glanced at her sideways, opened the sliding door, and went outside.

Even though the sun was shining, it was chilly outside. Perhaps it was because of the wind blowing from the sea.

At the harbor, you could see tourists who were about to enjoy a pleasure boat ride and anglers hanging around talking. They had no idea that today was the day of the strange custom, the day when you would be dragged into the sea by the Gosen-sama if you were outside. Whether the islanders believed it or not, it felt like they were staying indoors and watching the situation, saying it was a custom or a tradition. It was the part-time workers from outside the island who were dealing with the tourists on behalf of such islanders.

As he wandered around the harbor, he saw the ticket office. Tourists waiting for the pleasure boat were gathered around it. The woman issuing tickets at the counter was someone he had never seen before.

Before he knew it, the anglers were walking in a group toward the road leading to Oura.

“Seriously... the people of Wadatsu actually believe it after all.”

Yasu found it unsettling that the people of Wadatsu, despite all their talk, truly believed in the strange customs.

As he wandered aimlessly down the stone steps, the crowd gradually thinned, and a mist began to settle around him. He stopped in his tracks, thinking it strange since the sliver of sky he could see was perfectly clear. The sky he had been watching was blotted out, and he was completely enveloped in fog. It was unnervingly cold, and for some reason, the smell of the seashore hung in the air. Yasu grimaced at the fishy stench, like that of gutted fish.

Visibility was poor, and as he stood there unable to proceed, he saw a figure ahead. The silhouette was slowly climbing the stone steps. Realizing he wouldn't be able to pass them, Yasu felt his way along the ground and ducked into the lower stone steps—the path split into two going up and two going down—on the side opposite the figure. One of the two paths leading up led to the Soryo residence.

The figure approached silently. Yasu instinctively hid in the shadow of a house to observe.

When the figure finally came into clear view, Yasu was speechless.

Leading the way was a woman in a red uchigi robe wearing an ichime-gasa hat and carrying a baby, followed by a man in a suikan, then two armored warriors, and finally two men wearing clothes that looked like tattered rags.

This procession was the source of the seaside stench. Yet, they did not appear to be wet.

Because they were so clearly visible, Yasu concluded that what he was seeing was reality.

He stared intently at the woman. Her face was hidden by the ichime-gasa, but her skin was deathly pale, and her lips were painted a bright red. He couldn't see the baby in her arms, but he could hear the faint sound of it fussing.

The second man, in the suikan, wore a broken eboshi hat, and his neck, discolored a bluish-black, was unnaturally long.

Yasu gasped when the armored warriors came into view.

As for the armored warriors, they had nothing above their shoulders, as if they had been decapitated. He could even see the fine chainmail beneath their armor; it looked too expensive to be mere craftwork.

At first, he thought it was some strange costume parade, but seeing the last two, he was confused as to whether this was truly a tourist attraction put on by the islanders.

Their heads were crushed, and parts of their bodies—eyes, upper arms, thighs—had been torn off or gouged out as if pecked at, and brownish, discolored entrails leaked from their bellies. Like zombies, they followed the fallen warriors with vacant expressions, stumbling along.

They formed a line, climbed the stone steps slowly, and eventually disappeared in the direction of the Soryo residence.

The fog moved as if following the procession, and once the figures were out of sight, the area cleared up completely.

As he stood there, stunned, watching them go, a shrill ringtone suddenly shattered the silence of the surroundings.

He was startled, but upon realizing it was a smartphone, Yasu felt relieved. He checked the screen to see who was calling. It was from Jogan-ji Temple.

Hello?

Yasu himself had no business at the temple, so he answered the phone wondering why they were calling.

The head priest of Jogan-ji Temple began speaking from the other end of the line in an excited tone.

Yasu-san. I was thinking about what you said after you left, so I rummaged through the storehouse, and I found it, I found it! The Katano family diary. It's a truly old diary, probably from the Edo period. And a map of the inside of the limestone cave turned up too. The diary's handwriting is so difficult that I can't read it, so if you don't mind, could you come over to my place?

He felt inwardly disappointed that it wasn't information about the butterflies, but he did want to see the map of the limestone cave.

Understood, I'll head over now.

Oh, I'm sorry to make you go out on the 22nd. Well then, I'll be waiting for you.

Even though the existence of the ancestors was known in Oura, it seemed that people didn't believe it was a disaster actually occurring, and the head priest was no exception.

Yasu rented a bicycle in Wadatsu and headed toward Oura as quickly as he could. He passed many tourists and anglers. Oura was a larger settlement than Wadatsu and even had a small beach. Perhaps because of that, there were many families, and as he entered Oura, such tourists were walking along the street, chatting noisily.

Regular ferries also come to Oura, but since the last ferry goes straight to Katashima without stopping at Oura after departing from Wadatsu, people have to go all the way to Wadatsu. For that reason, there are quite a few people who enjoy sightseeing in Wadatsu in the afternoon.

Arriving in Oura by going against that flow of people, Yasu parked his rental bicycle near the ticket office and started walking toward Jogan-ji Temple. He followed the same path he had taken when he came with Katano before, aiming for Jogan-ji. Katano, who had suddenly vanished, must have surely been with him, and if he wasn't... for example, if Katano hadn't been there from the start, how would he have known the way to Jogan-ji? That's why Katano was there at that time. In the dilapidated Soryo mansion, Yasu, Katano, and the unidentified woman were certainly there. If it were all his hallucination, what on earth was that vividness?

Don't think about boring things...

Yasu muttered as if to tell himself.

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