Resfeber

"A Swedish word that refers to the mixture of anxiety and anticipation before a journey begins. Resfeber is one of the most beautiful travel words."


The ghosts of the inn were just outside her room. It was no different from living with nosy neighbors—if all neighbors could peek through walls and ceilings—and Anna was too used to them to let them distract her on any day. Not that morning, though; she couldn't hear the whispers of their thoughts anymore, but she could still feel their agitation, and it wasn't helping her own.

"Should I send you all to the afterlife as a parting gift?" she said. Anna looked towards her closed door, her eyes severe until the presence of the spirits faded. Now she could be sure that the uneasiness in her stomach was truly her own.

She continued to go through her drawers, figuring she'd pack light. Not only was the summer warmer in Tokyo than it was in Aomori, she didn't really know how long she'd stay. Anna wasn't leaving many things behind, both because she didn't have them in the first place, and because everything that was of value to her she couldn't take. The most important things in life are not things, like the proverb said.

Just like Kino had taught her to, she organized her belongings to sit tightly on top of a wrapping cloth before she tied a series of knots around them. Moving from a mountain town to the big city reminded her of the fantastical journeys from the books her teacher collected, or the old tales the ghosts would tell her when she was a child. It was exciting, knowing the time for the Shaman Fight was drawing near, but this was no bedtime story.

Shamans were gathering in Tokyo now, and Yoh was admitted to the ER because of it. Word from Izumo was that it wasn't serious; she wasn't so sure, since they were sending her in a hurry, but this news was not the reason she was nervous about the trip.

When she first set foot in the inn, there was a mess everywhere: creaking planks, peeling wallpaper, dust, and junk in every corner. To outsiders, it was not a place suitable for a child, but Anna found comfort in burying herself in all those nooks and crannies when she moved in; she felt safe, tucked away on an empty shelf by the window. Over the years, Kino and she turned the chaos into a home, cleaning, painting, restoring the building… and making sure there were no more places to hide.

But it was exactly what she was doing that morning.

The bullet train departed every hour; she could board at any time, yet she was choosing to sneak out while her sensei was gone. This woman knew of her darkness and still offered her a home. When the voices in her head got loud, she always knew when she needed to be left alone, and when she needed to be held. More than once, Anna wondered if Kino could read her heart too, and sense how conflicted she was. It scared her to leave the only place she knew, but she was so ready to go at the same time. Eager to be with Yoh, but unable to say goodbye to her.

She picked her bindle bag and headed downstairs, knowing the souls that haunted the inn were following from a safe distance. "You all knew I was leaving before I did. Why are you acting so surprised now?" she said. Anna changed her shoes by the door, and without looking back, added, "I'll be back before you know it. Watch the house."

Making a point not to look back at the inn, Anna hurried her steps down the road and headed into town. The station was empty for a weekday, and having some minutes to spare before her train, she looked for a bench to sit on. She saw a few people come and go. There were a couple of weeks left before the school break, and tourists would come pouring into the Summer Festivals then, but now, it was quiet.

"Anna."

The familiar sound of a cane followed the name, stumping the ground. It was a stance she did often, setting it firmly in front of her, her chin up in that dignified manner of hers. Anna stood from the bench at once.

"Kino-s…"

"Silence," she said. And there was no disobeying her teacher. "After all these years, I still have to hear about your comings and goings from spirits."

The old woman reached for the purse that she carried around her wrist and pulled a figurine out of it. It was a dogu charm, the kind they sold in gift shops around Mount Osore. Kino handed it over and Anna smiled, running her finger over the figure's goggled eyes. The night before, her teacher had made a joke about Anna being more dangerous to her grandson than any other shaman in the competition, mocking Yohmei's sense of urgency about her leaving.

"Shakokidogu, to protect Yoh from me putting him in the hospital myself?"

"No," she said after a chuckle. Kino searched for Anna's hand, the one holding the dogu, and squeezed it. "This one," she continued, "is to bring you back home to me, child."

The speaker from the station announced the arrival of her train seconds before the machine pulled over the platform. She squeezed back the wrinkly hand around hers, knowing it'd be enough to let the woman in front of her know everything she needed to know.


Happy Birthday, Citrus Overlord!