Chapter 28 - Makoto Temple Visit
Makoto ran over to the bosatsu statue gallery. In his disguise, he threw out the care for exterior perfection. No fans, no groupie, no worshippers of Mugami Toru, Makoto's idol persona, was going to witness the ungraceful running form.
It was a problem that his personal trainer was determined to correct before Makoto turned twenty. Getting the grace down was important for an idol like Makoto, who had all the indications that he would be in the entertainment industry for the foreseeable future.
For now, Makoto was going to get that prayer in.
His next co-star, Goriki Ayame, was stunning. She was a traditionally beautiful woman, with that liquid ink-black hair and perfectly featureless clear face to suit any man's fancy. She was so beautiful that even Makoto's mesmerizing glow dimmed a bit when they were first introduced. Even though she was older than him by at least a decade so nothing inappropriate should happen, Goriki had already built up power and pull in entertainment. She could be cruel and absolutely destroy him if she wanted.
In the cut-throat world of entertainment, where the best of the best is fully produced and leave some bodies behind, Makoto knew when he should exercise caution, and throw in a few prayer or two for divine intervention.
And once the planned prayer was over, Makoto could go back to his beloved sister and fend off admirers who exhibited more than the mandatory offu-worship. They still have the remainder of the afternoon to spend time together. He was sure that whoever girlfriend that Kokomi was going to visit later in the afternoon would accommodate him.
Makoto got to the bosatsu statue gallery. It must have been an off season since there were no others, just himself.
Perfect. He'll just rush through the gallery, say his prayer quick to the patron buddha at the pagoda at the end, find a priest to bless him, drawing his fortune, and go back to Kokomi.
The bosatsu statue gallery was a long building, filled on one side with six rows of bosatsu statues.
The bosatsu were people who technically have reached nirvana due to successful reincarnation and good living, but had decided to stay behind in the world to guide humans to reach nirvana. Each statue was to symbolize such belief, and that the mind can overcome the body; that a person can overcome the desires of their flesh.
The whole complex was called Desire Temple, after all.
The gallery was very dark. The overcast sky allowed a few lights to come in through clerestory paper screens. The statues were barely visible. It was dark enough that Makoto risked being identified by taking off his sunglasses.
Before Makoto entered through, he was briefly distracted by Kokomi's underclassman they had bumped into earlier, whatever-the-heck-her-name-was and the boyfriend of whatever-the-heck-her-name-was.
The two were obviously chasing each other, in that love-story manner of a boy running after a girl, saxophone romance music in the background, misty scene. There was a lot of giggling and laughing, much to the displeasure of the onlooking temple monks.
Makoto shook his head. Even he was respectful enough not to do something like that. Granted that hug with his sister Kokomi right before they've parted has that same manner of saxophone romance music and misty scene, at least in Makoto's head, but they were the Teruhashis; they were too beautiful to ruin the sanctity of a temple.
Wait. He wasn't alone at all.
There was a weird blonde little kid, wearing a gray yukata, looking to be five or six years old, walked along the edge of the wood bleachers where the statues were placed, towards Makoto. The kid pointed at the candles that were placed in pole candle holders and the small candle that was on the buddha statues' palms up right hand.
It seemed like the candles were being lit by a simple pointing of the finger.
"We can play fireworks again," the kid said happily, the lilting voice seemed to echo like they were in a cave. But wasn't the all wooden gallery structure with straw-thatched roof suppose to absorb sound? "Obaachan and Ojiichan would like fireworks. Their festivals were always so dull." He paused for a little bit. "Is it even festival time? I seemed to have lost track of time."
Makoto removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. That must be it. It must be the sunglasses that was making him not see things correctly.
When Makoto opened his eyes again, he almost jumped.
The gallery was now all lit up with candlelight.
That freaky kid, who was about waist tall, was now right to him.
Makoto was so surprised fell over unceremoniously onto his butt.
The kid laughed at him. "Haha! I scared you without even having to talk to you. Scardy cat."
Up close, there seemed to be some sort of mirage about the kid, like the visual deformation over hot asphalt that can be seen in the summertime. Did the kid's mouth even move?
"That's not very nice, you brat," admonished Makoto lightly. It was the duty of all citizens to make sure children were well taught to be polite. He struggled to his feet since he carried an extra pair of heavy boots in his backpack, just in case Kokomi wanted to change out her footwear. "How about a little help here?"
Without the kid even moving, Makoto felt himself suddenly yanked upright.
Did the kid even touch him?
By the time he had gathered his wits about him again, the kid was still there, looking up at him with that creepy one exposed yellow eye. Messy shoulder-length pale blond hair covered much of the face. To be honest, the kid did look very androgynous, and the kid's voice didn't help. But Makoto decided that this was a boy, judging by the plain color of the yukata and the manner it was worn.
"So um...you lost?" asked Makoto.
The two broke eye contact and the kid looked to the left and right. "I think so," said the kid.
"You think so?" echoed Makoto. "You don't know if you're lost or not?"
"I don't ever recall being lost," said the child. "I'm not sure how I got here. But now...I seemed to have forgotten something important. I kept asking these ghosts but they don't remember anything. So I made them go away. I couldn't get rid of the ones attached to people, but at least they're mostly quiet."
Talk about nonsensical discussion. Such were the minds of children. They believed in Sodaman, Baron Cola, talking hot dogs and flying purple bears. This one seemed to believe in ghosts.
"Where are your parents?" asked Makoto, his logical senses coming back to him a bit.
Lost kid. Find parents. Basic rule of life.
The kid seemed to have that far off, unfocused, resting gaze. Makoto was certain he had seen something like that before.
"Papa is at Ikkoku Yama Rural Hospital. He's looking for something," said the kid.
Makoto made a face. "Ikkoku Yama? Where the heck is that?"
The kid wasn't paying attention to Makoto. The kid still had that far-off look and his expression turned troubled. "Mama...mama is crying. Over what though?" He looked to the ground, seeming to be focusing and yet not. "She's...sad, over me? Why? I've told her not to think of me. She is never supposed to worry. I've fixed it. I know I did."
The mirage about the kid seemed to have intensified. The images of red embers seemed to emanate from the kid's form.
"I need to find mama," said the kid, clutching his head as if he had a sudden headache, finger digging into the skull as if attacking the source of the pain. "I need to go to her now."
"Woah, woah woah," intoned Makoto, his hands making a calm-down gesture. "It's okay. We'll find your mom. Everything is going to be fine. Calm down, kid." If there was one thing that Makoto wasn't good at, it was dealing with crying kids. Children are the Teruhashi's curse.
The words didn't seem to be working. Instead, the kid seemed to be extremely distressed. Makoto was close enough to see the red blossomed in the kid's pale blonde hair where the kid had dug into.
"No! It has to be now! I've been away for too long! It's going to break soon! She's...she's...going to hurt..." the kid trailed off as he held his hands in front of him.
Makoto watched an inexplicable scene before him.
A red and yellow smoldering edge of a fire peeked out the sleeves of the yukata, crawled down the arm, turning the sickly pale flesh gray and black. The areas where the smoldering edge had passed immediately began to blister and flake off like used briquette of incinerated wood, the flesh underneath glowed white, giving off a more severe mirage from what appeared to be heat.
"No...I'm...burning up. Or have I already burnt up?" said the kid, oddly calm and abstracted. The one golden eye, with the faintest taint of manic insanity, seemed to stare far past Makoto. "I sense a descendent of Mr. Deaf is here..." There was a quiet giggle. "I think I'll go break a couple of bones."
Makoto stepped back and fell on his butt again.
The kid seemed to stare past Makoto, and tilted the head, almost coyly. The smoldering edge that had so blistered the kid's arms and legs, had gone up the neck now, slowly consuming his face.
It was terrifying.
Makoto had to look away. As an actor, he had seen quite a lot of extremely realistic makeup. Specifically, in his acting role as a crime-solving detective, he personally saw, and was sometimes, pranked, with terrifying scenes so to obtain that genuine reaction for a scene.
Did he somehow walk onto a horror movie set?
When Makoto did not hear anything, he looked back again.
The kid was gone.
The bosatsu gallery was just as dark as he had seen originally.
Makoto blinked.
What the heck did he just see?
