Chapter 5: Girls & Ghosts, I Guess
X
After a long train ride to another prefecture, the party consisting of Yusuke, Kurama, Yamato and Kuwabara took a bus into the mountains, destination far from any major cities and deep within the forests of Japan's most rural regions. When the vehicle dropped them at a lonely bus stop at the side of a winding dirt road, they continued down a weed-strewn gravel path on foot. The path terminated at the base of a huge stone staircase, one that extended upward and out of sight along a mountain slope under the canopy of shady trees. Their destination lay at the top, Yusuke said, and there were no escalators (much to Yamato's dissatisfaction). She moaned and groaned at the length of the ordeal, but no more loudly than did Yusuke, who had been forced to help carry one of her suitcases.
"What do you even have in here? Bricks?" he said as they began the low, slow, arduous climb up the stairs to the temple. "It weighs a ton!"
Yamato glared, but she didn't reply. She was too busy lugging her other two suitcases behind her, sweat beading on her forehead below the brim of her baseball cap. The sun beat down like a hammer even through the thick layer of foliage overhead, and when Kurama mildly suggested it was too hot for headgear, she just glared some more and jammed her hat further down her head. She also refused to take off her jacket, even though it was far too hot for such a thing.
Stubborn woman, Kurama thought. Was her vanity truly so great?
Walking some distance behind him, Yusuke muttered to Kuwabara, "Think she's got a wig and a hat on? Talk about hot."
"Nah," Kuwabara said, speaking in a whisper. "The hair is attached to the hem of the hat. I've seen Shizuru style one of those before."
Up ahead on the stairs, Yamato called, "I can hear you, you know!"
Kuwabara and Yusuke's gossip session ended after that. Apparently Yamato's ears where quite sharp. Bet even her clear annoyance at their commentary could not dissuade Kuwabara from trying to make friends, and soon he trotted up the stairs to walk beside her—her fourth and final suitcase balanced like it weighed nothing atop his broad shoulder.
"So, Yamato," he said with the breeziest of grins. "You mentioned an aunt last night. You inherited—"
"I don't want to talk about her."
This time, even Kuwabara shrank at the sheer acidity in her voice, and he did not try to speak to her again. In fact, no one said another word until they nearly reached the top of the flight, where Yusuke finally dropped Yamato's suitcase and spun around to face her. She had fallen behind in their climb; Yusuke waited for her to catch up, face an alarming shade of red beneath her cap, before speaking.
"OK, Yamato," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Listen up."
"Do I need to take notes?" she said as she came to a stop, huffing and puffing with every word. "Fresh out of paper, I'm afraid."
"Shut up," said Yusuke. A thumb jerked over his shoulder. "This place belongs to Genkai. She's a grouchy old biddy who doesn't take shit from anybody, and she'll pound you into dust if you so much as look at her wrong. We told her all about what's going on with you and she'll probably put you to work the minute you see her. Do what she says when she says it and you might come out of this unscathed."
Mopping her face with her sleeve, Yamato said, "Genkai, was it?"
"Yeah. But that's Master Genkai to you."
"Master Genkai." Yamato grinned. "She sounds awesome."
Yusuke's laugh, a harsh bark of wry mirth, cracked in the quiet mountain air. "You won't be saying that after the snake pit."
Yamato's red face paled. "The who-what-now pit?"
"He's kidding," Kuwabara quickly assured her. "You're kidding, aren't you, Yusuke?"
But Yusuke didn't reply. Suspiciously. And Yamato spent the rest of the climb up the stairs staring daggers at the back of his head. She only stopped once they reached the stairs' zenith, where she gazed instead at the huge red tori arch framing the stone steps. Huge twists of rope hung from it, each trailing white paper tags that hissed on the light breeze. Beyond the arch sprawled the temple itself, myriad gardens and elegant wings spread out before them like a feast. Yamato looked at all of this with undisguised wonder and intrigue—but then someone cleared their throat, and her gaze instead descended to the short figure standing before them in the middle of a flagstone courtyard. She wore a simple red robe, belted at the waist over a pair of white pants and purple shoes. Sharp brown eyes lined with crow's feet regarded Yamato with open skepticism, and soon, faded pink hair floating on the wind like cobweb, she turned to the rest of the group and thrust her nose into the air.
"This her?" said Genkai, with a nod at Yamato.
"You see anyone else who could be the fortune teller I told you about?" snarked Yusuke.
"Watch your mouth, brat." She pointed at Yamato, then held out her hand with palm up. "You. Girl. The mirror."
Yamato blinked. "Eh?"
"Hand it over and follow me."
"Oh. Um." Letting go of her suitcases' handles, she wiped her hands on her pants and stepped forward. "Sure."
Yamato reached into her jacket—the one she had refused to take off before—and removed a small parcel wrapped in a purple scarf from its interior pocket. This she handed over to Genkai, who unwrapped and revealed the antique bronze mirror lying within. No wonder she hadn't wanted to remove the jacket, Kurama thought, but she needn't have bothered going to such pains to keep the mirror safe. Genkai appeared not to care much for the mirror at all. She hardly even glanced at it before turning on her heel and marching swiftly toward the temple, beckoning with one gnarled finger for everyone to follow. Here Yamato shot a look of question at Yusuke, who indicated it was fine for Yamato to abandon her suitcases—which she promptly did, shrugging at last from her denim prison and tossing it atop her suitcase without a care. The pack then followed after Genkai, trailing her into the cool dim of the temple's winding halls until they reached a small room with an iron brazier glowing in the middle of it. Kurama pulled at his collar when the dry heat of the burning coals scorched his face, but nevertheless he entered and sat down upon the hard, tatami-covered floor, followed by a grumbling Yusuke and a groaning Kuwabara.
Yamato got slightly better treatment than the others. Genkai bade her side on a small cushion on the floor, and Genkai sat at Yamato's side without a word. Yamato watched with interest as Genkai pulled a long kiseru from her robe and lit up, perfumed smoke rising in thin clouds toward the ceiling. Soon Genkai set the pipe aside, though, in favor of Yamato's bronze mirror.
"Well, you might be a dimwit," Genkai said with a glance at Kuwabara, "but you weren't wrong about this. The mirror is absolutely haunted."
Yamato beamed when she turned over her shoulder to whisper to Yusuke, "I already love her so much."
"Quiet, you." Genkai didn't bother looking at her, eyes fixed on the mirror in her hand. "I'm trying to investigate, since apparently you couldn't be bothered to do it yourselves."
Yamato's grin widened. "So. Much!"
Here Genkai ignored her, concentration unbreakable—and soon Kurama felt the whisper of Genkai's energy fill the room, wrapping around the mirror in a subtle cloud. Genkai had always had the most wonderful technique, and he could not help but marvel at her efficiency as she probed the mirror with her power. Eventually her energy receded, and she looked back up at Yamato with a frown.
"This is no ordinary mirror," said Genkai.
"I know!" Yamato sang. "I'm told it's haunted!"
"You're not nearly as funny as you think you are," said Genkai with a baleful glower. She tapped the mirror with her knuckles, metal ringing. "And this isn't a mirror. It looks like one, but that wasn't its intended purpose when it was forged."
"Dare I even ask?" Kurama murmured.
"It's not creepy, is it?" said Kuwabara.
Genkai shrugged. "Only if you're creeped out by things like phylacteries."
"Phyl-what-trees?" Yusuke said.
Kuwabara whispered, "I think it's a type of math equation."
"I can't even begin to explain how wrong you are," said Genkai, "but I'm in a giving mood, so I'll at least make an attempt to get the truth through your thick skulls."
Yamato practically vibrated in her seat. "Love. Her. So. Much!"
Genkai pretended not to hear again, though her mouth twitched just a little.
"In some religions, phylacteries are small boxes that contain holy scriptures," Genkai said. She took a puff on her kiseru, smoke curling around her face in lazy spirals. "In others, they are containers that house the souls of the dead. Whether someone places their soul in the object willingly or not is of little consequence. Souls are bound to their phylacteries until the enchantment binding them together is severed, or until the object is destroyed." She rapped the mirror again, which gave another musical ring. "Given the age of this mirror, it would have been a prized possession in its time; no one would have destroyed it on purpose, and then as it aged, fewer still would dare harm such an antique. Clever. Whoever made this was counting on it lasting through the ages."
"So you think the soul inside the mirror placed his or herself within it willingly?" Kurama surmised.
"Either that or the soul was placed there by someone who wanted it to remain protected indefinitely." Genkai took yet another puff. "And she."
"Beg pardon?"
"The soul is a she." Her eyes slid sideways. "And she would very much like to speak to you, girl."
Yamato blinked, one manicured nail rising to tap her chest. "Me?"
"Who else would I be talking to?"
"Sorry, I just—how do I talk to it? To her, I mean." She waved at the mirror. "How do I talk to her if she's stuck in…"
Sighing, Genkai set the mirror on her knee. She set her pipe aside, too, and shifted until she and Yamato sat face to face. The brazier cast a warm glow onto both their faces, setting sparks of gold into Yamato's dark irises. Despite her disheveled hair and sweat-slicked face, she looked very nearly pretty—an observation Kurama quickly quashed, and one that lasted for only a moment, anyway.
"Do what I say and don't ask questions," Genkai said.
Yamato fidgeted nervously upon her cushion, saying, "Yes ma'am."
"Close your eyes. Take deep breaths."
"Oh! Like in yoga cla—?"
"This is not like your yoga class and if you say anything like that again, I'll burn that horrible hairpiece you're wearing in front of you, do you understand?"
"All right, all right, sheesh!" Yamato shut her eyes. "Back to deep breathing it is, then."
"Good," said Genkai. "Clear your mind. Concentrate on the feeling of air in your throat." She waited for Yamato's breathing to deepen, even out, before continuing. "Now—"
Genkai walked Yamato through a standard meditation regimen, and the girl followed along easily enough. Although Yamato at first exuded a nervous energy, telegraphed and broadcast through her twitching fingertips and the restless movement of her eyes beneath their lids, eventually Kurama sensed her settle into the routine, energy evening out, slowing down, widening like a stream draining into a deep, still lake. Eventually the room sat in silence broken only by the snap of burning coals in the brazier—and the occasional sigh or rustle from Yusuke, who seemed quite bored of the whole affair. Kuwabara, meanwhile, stared in entranced fascination at the scene before him; Kurama felt much the same way, even as Yusuke's eyes began to drift shut. The Spirit Detective's eyes snapped back open again when Genkai grabbed up the mirror and held it a mere inch from Yamato's oblivious face. Her breath cast a fog over her reflection in the mirror's bronze surface, but still, she didn't move. Her face remained still and calm, breathing steady, too deep in the trance woven for her by Genkai to notice the physical world at all.
"Now, Yamato," Genkai said. "Open your eyes."
Yamato obeyed without question. Her reflection in the mirror did, too—but to Kurama's shock, the face in the mirror had ceased to belong to Yamato at all.
X
To Yamato Rei, it felt like falling—an endless plunge into deep, dark shadow. But then something jerked and twisted in her brain, and she stopped falling. She found herself standing in a spotlight in the middle of a black void, and before her stood a woman.
She was beautiful, this woman, with hair to her knees like a curtain of fine black silk, with milky skin that had never seen the sun, lips painted cherry red in the center, and eyes as dark as the void in which they stood. These eyes stood out to Rei even more than the woman's aristocratic nose and full lips. These eyes were familiar, and at the sight of them, she found herself quite stupefied. These eyes, she thought, were the same ones she saw in the mirror each morning. Only they were in someone else's face—which meant they somehow had the same eyes—and how the fuck did that work?
Hell if Rei knew. She filed the eye-thing away for future reference and instead looked at the woman's outfit: a white kosode with an uchikake wrapped around the waist, both covered in a subtle pattern of leaping cranes and swimming koi. A necklace of jade magatama beads hung around her long, slender neck, and behind her stood two enormous bronze bells held in wooden stands. A short white vase between them contained a sprig of green branch plucked from a tree Rei didn't recognize. It was all very elaborate and old-fashioned and weird, and Rei had no idea what to make of it at all. But the woman didn't make her wonder for long, because soon her musical voice rang out—rang out in that same, musical tone the mirror had made under Genkai's hand.
"Finally," she said, smiling a smile that made Yamato feel like she had stumbled into company she didn't deserve to keep. "Finally, we meet face to face. Long have I desired to speak to you thus, and at last, my wish has been fulfilled."
"Uh. I guess," said Rei, who wasn't sure if she liked the eagerly affectionate way the woman stared at her. "Who are you?"
"Pardon my manners, Yamato Rei," she said with a laugh, and she dropped to her knee in a reverent bow. "My name is Himiko, and I am your great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother."
For a minute, Rei said nothing.
"My grandmother," she eventually repeated.
"Yes." Himiko settled into seiza and beamed. "Your great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother."
For another minute, Rei said nothing.
Then: "Oh-kay?"
Himiko's face fell. "You do not believe me, do you?"
"I… don't know?"
"I suppose there are many things to which you must become accustomed." She gestured to Rei's left, where a red cushion that had not been there before sat upon the dark not-ground. "Please. Sit. We have much to discuss."
Because she had no clue in hell what the fuck else she should be doing, Rei sat, looking furtively at Himiko's trailing sleeves and shimmering silk robe. It was obviously handmade (Yamato knew her way around clothes, for sure) and incredibly elegant. An antique, though it didn't look old. Or did age really matter in this place that was obviously a dream or a hallucination? Eh, whatever. Rei supposed that all that mattered was that she and Himiko had the same eyes, so the bit about Himiko being her grandmother probably made sense? Or something?
"Where to begin," Himiko said with another of her glowing smiles.
"Beats the hell out of me," said Rei.
"We could start with your abilities, if you'd like."
"Uh. OK?" Now Rei was paying attention. "So you know all about them?"
"Yes," said Himiko. "Because I am them."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Tell me, Rei," said Himiko (Rei wasn't sure she liked that Himiko had used her first name without asking, but Himiko kept talking, so Rei couldn't protest). "Have you studied history with any intensity?"
"…some."
"Then perhaps you've heard of me." She leaned toward Rei, the short-cropped sections of hair beside her face brushing her lovely cheekbones. "The ancient shaman Queen Himiko of Yamatai-koku?"
Suddenly Himiko's weird hime haircut made sense, as did her rich clothes and elegance—but these things Rei pushed to the side, because she had a much more pressing query in mind.
"Wait a minute," said Rei. "Am I fucking royalty?"
"I don't know; who are you fucking?" said Himiko with good-natured humor.
"That's a Dad Joke, not a great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother joke." Rei cracked a grin, herself. "And it's a dirty one, Himiko!"
Himiko laughed. "Allow an old woman her fun, please."
"Fine. Continue."
Himiko nodded in thanks, saying, "I know about your abilities because I am your abilities. I have the power to divine the future, plumb the past, tangle the threads of fate. Your powers stem from me. I am your constant companion, your silent guide, your unseen shepherd. From the mirror I watch, and from the mirror I guide your Sight."
"So… when I read the fortunes of my clients, it's actually… you?" Rei said, face screwing up in confusion. "Whispering in my ear?"
"In a manner of speaking," said Himiko. "I can commune with one member of my family at a time—a girl, always, one at a time until the mirror changes hands. Whoever possesses the mirror possesses me and the powers I command."
This, of course, led Rei to the following and most obvious next question: If it's passed down through the women in her family, who had it before her? She had a hunch she knew the answer. In fact, she knew in her bones who it was. But she refused to ask, and as Himiko waited in expectant silence, Rei searched desperately for something else to talk about.
"Takeshi said my fortunes have been accurate for him and his friends. His demons friends." Rei looked at Himiko and frowned. "Do you know about demons?"
"Yes, child."
"OK. Good. Also not a child. But OK." A deep breath to center herself. "Why do my predications—uh, your predications?"
"They belong to you," Himiko said firmly. "I merely pull them from the ether at your behest."
"That… doesn't make sense but I'll think about it later," said Rei. "Anyway. Why did my predictions help him and the other demons? I'm assuming they didn't work for the humans that came before the demons, because business only took off once demons became my main source of income."
"Excellent question, but it bears a complicated answer. I believe the demon named Kurama informed you of the existence of spiritual energy. He did not tell you the difference between a soul and a ghost, however."
"There's a difference?"
"Yes. A soul is a person's essence, that which comprises who they are. A soul is raw life energy, naked and vulnerable. It is protected by a body, or by a ghost. A ghost is the remnant of a person's self after they become disconnected from their body, whether by death or by another mechanism. A ghost is their preferences and mannerisms, a shell of personality that shields the simple and naked soul from harm. It is made up of spiritual energy, which is not the same thing as the life energy of the soul." She placed one slender hand upon her chest. "I am not a ghost, though personality I do possess. I am a soul, and with neither a body nor a proper ghost to house me, I must use the mirror for protection."
But something didn't quite track, so Rei asked, "Why aren't you a ghost?"
"Because spirit energy, paradoxically, is at least partially produced by the body—specifically the chakras," said Himiko. "I placed my soul within the mirror before I died. The spiritual energy which would have become my ghost stayed with my body before it slipped into death at last, powerless without its soul to continue living. I did not count upon this schism, but with its consequences I must bravely contend."
"OK," said Rei. She supposed that all made sense, but she wasn't entirely sure how it connected to her initial question. "What's this got to do with my powers working for demons?"
Himiko drew herself up. Her head inclined, and her face composed itself into an expression so imperious, Rei wanted to bow her head in deference on sheer reflex. Himiko's already perfect posture grew even stronger, and with a voice like a booming typhoon, she began to speak.
"I have existed within that mirror for centuries," said Himiko. "I have seen the fall of kings and the rise of emperors. I have witnessed the births of thousands and the deaths of even more. I have beheld—"
"Your point?" said Rei.
Himiko deflated, but only the smallest bit. "My point is that I have seen enough to know what a modern battery is," she said. "The well of life energy within a person's soul is not infinite. I cannot draw upon my own power without depleting it, as I have no physical form or ghost that can regenerate my spiritual energy. Regeneration is the duty of the vessels, not the essence." She gestured gracefully toward elsewhere. "But in the presence of a being with energy to spare, I can use them as a battery to fuel the abilities you bear inside you. I channel that energy into you, my child, because you do not have enough energy of your own to fuel your abilities, and I cannot afford to spend what little life energy I have left on paltry matters."
"So whenever I'm around something with more power than a regular human," Rei said, working through it in her head, "I can read their future. Because I'm basically leeching their energy and using it for my own purposes?"
"Indeed." Himiko covered her red-painted mouth with her sleeve; Rei winced, wondering if ghost robes could stain. "Although I find your terms repugnant, I feel I must confess."
"Dually noted," Rei grumbled.
Himiko allowed Rei to sit in silence for a time, thinking and mulling and otherwise figuring out what the hell all of this meant in a practical sense. Talk about an info-dump; it was almost worse than her intro to library sciences class at the start of grad school, because at least that class had made sense and been grounded in, y'know… physical laws and whatnot. But here she was, putting together the idea that she could actually read fortunes. That she had actual powers. All because of this lady who claimed to be her great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother. Because Rei descended from some kind of royalty that probably hadn't left behind an inheritance for her aside from that damn mirror. That was all cool and whatnot, but there were bigger issues at hand than whether or not Himiko had left behind a will.
Looking up, Rei met Himiko's identical black eyes and asked, "Why did those demons try to kidnap me?"
But this time, Himiko didn't launch into a flowery, archaic-speech monologue. She just looked down at her hands, which she demurely folded on her lap like two delicate paper cranes.
"What's that look for?" said Rei.
Himiko hesitated again—but then her chest swelled with a determined inhale, and she spoke.
"The reason… involves Chidori," she said. "Your aunt."
There came a pause.
In a small voice, Rei said, "… oh."
"Yes."
"… great." Her chin dropped nearly to her chest when she muttered, "Another thing I can blame her for."
"My child," said Himiko, voice rich with sympathy. "It is not Chidori's fault that—"
Her chest tightened; Rei snapped, "I don't want to hear it. And I don't want to talk about her." She ignored Himiko's affronted gasp, saying, "I'm just going to assume that she is somehow to blame for this. She got mixed up with demons for whatever reason and now one of them is after me. Is that about right?"
"Yes," said Himiko. "But the details—"
"I don't want to hear them if they have anything to do with her."
Himiko opened her mouth. Probably to argue, if Rei had to guess. But at whatever look she saw on Rei's face (because Rei herself wasn't quite sure what she looked like just then), Himiko' mouth closed. She folded her hands again, bowing her head in a show of what could only be respect.
"Very well," said Himiko, voice the softest of gentle music. "The demon's name is Tutivillus."
"Well that's a stupid name."
"Indeed. But he is not a stupid demon. He was able to capture Chido—" Himiko cut herself off before she could finish saying the name. "I am sorry."
Rei pressed on, ignoring the slip to say, "Is he the reason she disappeared?"
"Yes."
"Got it." Her chin dipped again as she muttered, "That's one mystery solved, at least."
"I can solve more," said Himiko. Her eyes held a plea, a hope, a distant wish. "If you would only let me tell you what I know, I believe your perspective on these matters would change. Your perspective of her would change."
Rei swallowed. "But I don't want it to change."
"Child, you can't mean—"
"I can mean," Rei shot back. Her ire rose like a tide at dawn, currents of anger swift and vicious and cold. "I've spent a long time getting over everything she put me through. Of what she refused to do for me when I needed her the most. I've spent a long time rationalizing all of it, and the conclusions I've come to are that she's a selfish, horrible person who I was better off not knowing."
Himiko's beautiful face fell further still. "Child…"
"Stop calling me that. I'm not your child." She didn't bother apologizing for the snap even when Himiko covered her mouth with her sleeve again, eyes huge and dark and sad above cream-colored silk. "And that woman might be my aunt, but I don't for a second consider her family. So don't spin me some sob story and try to humanize her. Just respect that I don't want to know anything more about her, and know that any attempts to get me to change my mind will be met with open hostility. Got it?"
Himiko nodded, albeit slowly.
"Good." Rei curled her legs under herself, brushing off her lap like she brushed away the crumbs of a bad conversation. "So there's a demon named Tutivillus after me. What else do you know about him? Like why he was after me and my aunt, for instance."
"Sadly, I know precious little," said Himiko. "But Chidori left you everything she possessed. If there are answers, they exist within her inheritance to you."
It was disappointing, but there was nothing to be done. Rei stood up and walked a few paces away, amazed that she didn't plummet into the blackness beneath her feet.
"Then I'll just have to dig up the truth on my own, eventually. Thanks for your help." She wanted to ask Himiko to send her back to reality and away from this weird not-place, but when she turned and saw Himiko with eyes downcast, lovely mouth set in a grieved crescent, the anger in her chest cracked and crumbled. Softly, she said, "Look. I'm sorry for snapping. I just… there's a lot of history here."
"I know," said Himiko, not comforted in the slightest. "I saw it all from within my prison."
"Oh. Well." Damn her soft heart, but Rei actually felt pretty badly for her ancestor all of a sudden. Cursing her inability to be a stone cold bitch, she said, "Will you be here if I want to talk again?"
Finally the smile returned to Himiko's dark eyes. "Always."
"Thank you, Himiko."
"Of course, my child." She course-corrected in a flash. "Alas, not a child. Apologies." A pause. "Rei. Your name is Rei."
"Yeah." Rei still wasn't sure if she liked being addressed by her first name by someone she had just met, but this was her great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, so she let it go. "Can I ask one last thing?"
"Anything," said Himiko, smile widening further still.
Rei took a deep breath before she said, "Did Tutivillus have anything to do with my…?"
"No," Himiko said before Rei could finish speaking. "Your parents were of no concern to him."
Rather than be pissed at the interruption, Rei was just glad that Himiko hadn't made her speak her thoughts aloud, sparing her the necessity of recalling her parents' deaths. Rei was grateful for this, and privately she decided that she liked Himiko, after all.
But all she said in response was, "Good." She shifted from foot to foot. "Well. I'll be back soon. To talk. I guess?"
"Please do," said Himiko at once. "It has been so long since I was able to experience the gift of conversation. But for now, our time together comes to a close." She rose with the same grace as falling snow. "It is high time I sent you back."
"OK. See you soon?"
"Stars willing." Himiko lifted her hands, but before she did anything else, she said, "Oh, but Rei?"
"Yes?" said Rei.
Himiko's black eyes glittered.
"Be wary of foxes," she said, "for they are clever and full of pretty words."
A shiver skated up Yamato's spine at the sound of these dire words, but before she could ask what her grandmother meant, the room rippled. Himiko vanished. Darkness pulled back like a curtain wrenched aside on opening night, and Yamato found herself blinking at her own reflection in a gleaming bronze mirror—but no, not her reflection. The eyes were the same, but the face was different, older, more elegant and beautiful—and then she blinked, and Yamato's reflection belonged to her again.
"Whoa. Whoa!" she said, scrambling back off of her seat across the floor. "What the heck was that?"
"I dunno," Yusuke said, "but it was sure as shit freaky."
"You talked in your voice, and then there was this face in the mirror," Kuwabara babbled, "but it wasn't yours—"
"—and when it talked, the words came out of your mouth," Yusuke said. He leaned toward her to dramatically whisper, "In a completely different voice!"
"I'm tellin' ya, it was freaky," Kuwabara said with a shiver.
"Wow. Wooow. Wild." Rei rubbed at her temples, conscious of her hat-wig as it ground against her overheated skin. "Bit of spectral ventriloquism, huh? Or was I possessed? Don't tell me I was possessed!" Breath hissed through her teeth. "Ouch."
"What's wrong?" said Genkai.
"Head hurts." She shot the old woman a glare. "I think you just pried my third eye open with a goddamn crowbar."
"Perhaps," Genkai said after the briefest of dry chuckles. "It's wide enough for now, at least." Lifting her pipe to her mouth, Genkai regarded Rei in contemplative silence. "So you're a descendant of Himiko. That explains it, I suppose."
"You know who she is?" Rei asked.
"In a sense. Historians have debated whether the great shamaness Himiko, queen of Yamatai-koku, actually existed or is simply a figure of legend. It's a hotly debated piece of Japanese history, in fact." Her wizened mouth turned up at the corners, just a little. "To think her ghost would be the one to clear it all up…"
Rei gasped when Genkai rose to her feet, quick as a striking snake. The woman was older than dirt, by the looks of her, but she moved like lightning and was out of the room in, like, two seconds. It was all Rei could do to stare after her in astonishment, barely able to string two words together in response.
Eventually she gathered her wits enough, however, to blurt out, "Where are you going?"
"To do research, dolt," said Genkai from down the hall (damn, she moved quick!). "I suggest you come with me and do the same."
It was tough to argue, so Rei scrambled up and ran after her, circling back to grab the mirror off the floor at the last second. She'd learned quite a bit in the last five minutes (or however long she'd been in that trance), but it didn't look like Genkai was going to give her much time to adjust. Still, if Genkai wanted Rei to do effective research, there was something Rei would need to do first.
"Before we do that," she said when she caught up to Genkai in the hallway, "I need to make a call."
"To whom?" Genkai asked.
"Takeshi. He needs to send me something. Can I get your mailing address?" She paused. "Do you even get mail here, anyway?"
"We manage." Stopping cold, Genkai reached into her robe and drew forth a paper and pen, prompting Rei to wonder what Genkai kept in there. As Genkai scribbled down the address, she asked Rei, "What are you going to ask him to send?"
"A box."
"What's in the box?"
"Stuff n' things," said Rei with a shrug.
"How very specific."
Genkai looked unamused at Rei's vague description, giving her a moment's pause. Eventually, though, she heaved a sigh. Keeping this on the down-low wasn't going to be easy, so she might as well just admit the truth.
"It's a box of my aunt's," she said, and just then, a set of feet pounded down the hall behind her. She turned to find Kuwabara and Yusuke, Kurama trailing them at a distance, coming to a stop a few feet away.
"Like, does the box have more fortune telling stuff?" Kuwabara said, looking confused. "You already showed us a trunk full of it."
"It's not that stuff," she said, turning her back on him and hoping that this would act as a clear enough sign that she wasn't interested in talking about this. "It's papers. Books. A few journals I never had the heart to read."
"So what's the deal with this aunt of yours, anyway?" said Yusuke, not picking up on the hint. "Back in the city, you said—"
"OK." She wheeled around again, teeth grit. "Because I can sense this will become a whole big thing if I'm all vague and mysterious about it, I'll say this only exactly once. So pay attention."
Genkai's brows shot up. Yusuke looked peeved. Kuwabara wore an apologetic expression, and Kurama—well, he sported that same polite expression he always did. The one Rei found exceedingly difficult to read, even if he looked damn pretty doing it. She ignored them all and took a deep breath, waiting for utter silence before launching into what she hoped would be the one and only time she ever admitted any of this annoying garbage out loud again.
"My parents died when I was 11 and my aunt had the option of taking me in, but instead she chose to turn me over to the state and disappear and I never heard from her again until I was about 18 and a lawyer called to tell me she'd died and left me everything she owned," she said in one gigantic rush. "That's how I got that apartment, all paid up from now until the apocalypse, and it's where I got everything I needed to start up my fortune telling business, aside from the eyeliner and my acting abilities, which are all mine." She flapped a hand in dismissal and sighed, rolling her eyes so hard, it's a wonder she didn't wind up concussed. "It's a boo-hoo, standard tragic-orphan-origin-story with just a few more Ouija boards than usual, and I'm not interested in rehashing the past any more than I need to. Clearly my aunt was into some weird shit and I'll likely have to talk more about her in the coming days, but fuck if I'm actually looking forward to it. I know nothing about her that could shed light on all the supernatural crap surrounding me, and that's why I need that fucking box of paperwork." She looked at each of them one by one, daring them to say even a single goddammn word. None of them took her up on it, though. "OK, everybody? Make sense? We cool here?" She didn't wait for them to reply, spinning to march off down the hall. "Cool. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Now where's your fucking phone, Genkai?"
Yusuke snickered.
"It's in the other direction," Genkai said.
Without a word, Rei spun back the other way and stalked down the length corridor to call Takeshi—and she made sure to stomp on Yusuke's smartass foot along the way.
X
BIG HOKIN' GRATITUDE aimed toward tasty dumpling PumpkinEmpanada, toasty sweetheart ovennfresh, generous benefactor studentloans and the makes-my-pulse-pound ZayrenHeart for being such darling reviewers! Where the heck did all you new readers come from? Here's hoping my revamped story summary draws new folks into Rei's crazy life!
I joined Tumblr if you wanna interact or something? Username is OddMawd and my account is as ghostly as Himiko at this point.
(Also all the crap I said about Himiko is indeed based on hotly debated, supposedly historical stuff, which is… fun? IDK but I hope you liked it!)
