The Winter of the Ubume

An LLS Production


: 北風

Yuuri

Maybe Sharegaki had managed to throw that boulder accurately. It would certainly explain why I was seeing Viktor here, of all places – I got hit in the head, maybe. Well, it would not be the first time that Sharegaki had forgotten to pretend. The usual stereotype of mountain oni being... dim... could only be perpetuated by people who had met Sharegaki. If not for his sister Usugaki, I half-wondered how he'd managed to survive. Maybe all his prodigious strength must have come about at the cost of brains.

Viktor, here? In the middle of Unihime's flower-viewing party? Before a throng of the monsters of the mountains and seas?

Watching me thoroughly butcher Lohengrin?

"Thank you, thank you," Kyō-sama spoke up, loud enough to snap me out of my trance. "That was the artistic offering made by the human Katsuki family of Hasetsu."

More murmurs rose, and I tried not to fidget. Half of dealing with yōkai was being firm about boundaries. Yōkai were creatures that existed at the liminality of the world; hence, any sort of boundary was usually meant to keep them out (except for Nurarihyon and the great yōkai, but that was a different story, since the master of all spirits lived in the demon capital, not in southern Japan). After some trouble that was related to Minako-sensei's family – I'm not up on the details – Grandpa had made an arrangement with the yōkai. It had concentrated them all in one area of space and time; every Monday night, for the day named after the moon, yōkai activity was permitted in this half of town after dark, but no guest of Yū-topia could be harmed. In exchange, we provided the drinks.

The yōkai accepted it. They didn't really like it, but fighting it would pit them directly against the Ôbō-Jikara.

I went down on one knee – no full obeisance from me unless absolutely necessary, thanks, but this ought to be sufficient.

Unihime laughed. "We would award you for such a magnificent performance," she announced, smug and grinning towards two other flower-viewing tents – the ladies she was trying to one-up, probably. "You may request a boon, within reason."

According to Mum's procedure – and Grandma's lecture – I bowed my head in acknowledgement of the compliment, then stood. "We are glad that you enjoyed our paltry attempt. It is an opera from Germany."

The murmurs rose, and Unihime's grin grew larger. "You have acquaintance with them, then. The Nanban people."

A collective shudder went up. "Kirishitan,1" one of the oni muttered. "Shōkera never recovered from Shimabara."

"I have lived in Detroit for five years, and travelled in between tournaments," I replied with more confidence. Figure skating is not the sort of thing you brought to the local monsters. "I have returned only by coincidence with your august party, Unihime-sama."

More whispers. "What if he converted?"

"Make him go through e-fumi?"

A new generation of yōkai were probably growing from the auspices of the Internet. Hopefully, they would be more up-to-date than this lot.

"In fact, there are two people from another land. I have given plea for protection on one, and now I plead for the other. His name is Yuri Plisetsky."

"...We know of him. He is ill-mannered, disbelieving, and rude."

Usugaki, the kijo who played Elsa of Brabant, gave a gasp. "Young meat, Nii-san! Perhaps his flesh would confer properties like the flesh of Genjō Sanzō?2"

"As far as I know, he is a young human," I continued before some enterprising yōkai could go to Yū-topia and try to re-enact Kurage Honenashi on Yurio.3 "He is innocent and unknowing."

"I see. If you are pleading so hard for his sake, then I will forgive that stranger from another land. He must however purify himself in repentance for his folly within the moon's fall."

It took a while to reinterpret that. "You want him to sit in a waterfall and get hit by Zen sticks?"

"A little enlightenment never goes amiss." Unihime was laughing, of course. "Raise your head, boy. Your foreign friend has come to see you."

...oh.

That was Viktor.

I turned around and ran off of the stage, nearly chopping in half a shiro ukari with my skates. The blades dug into the ground, but I reached down and wrenched them off, uncaring that it was broken.

It was magic – when the clock struck twelve they would probably vanish. I didn't care. I was more occupied with the fact that Viktor knows.

Viktor knows, I thought as I ran into the cover of the forest. Viktor knows I... that I live with monsters.

Viktor knew... knew that I was a monster.


Viktor

"Oh god, Yuuri." I got up to chase as my newest protégé flung himself off the stage and took to the dark copse of trees. "Wait, Yuuri!"

"Why'd you let him come here?!" I heard Mari talking to Atarime-hiko. "Why was Yuuri performing?! You let them throw a rock at him! He's an athlete, he can't afford to get injured!"

"A boulder could not harm him," Atarime-hiko dismissed. "Two boulders could not harm him. Maybe were it the Mountain of Five Fingers,4 but that is no longer present."

"I don't- I need to find Yuuri!" I ducked away, grabbing my soaking wet sneakers as I ran out from the step of the veranda. They resounded with squishy sounds as I stuffed my feet in them, but it was probably better than trying to navigate the surrounding forestry in pigeon-toed sandals. Why would-

No, I chided myself. Of course he couldn't say it.

Putting aside the fact that everybody knew that monsters aren't real, there was also the...other problem. The Church – actually, make that any monotheistic religion – has some... problems with Shinto. Apparently, the concept that gods and spirits live together with humans on the same plane of existence is confusing. It was the kind of problems that made religious wars look minor. Sure, Baba Yaga and Koschei the Deathless and the leshy and the bannika are part of Russian culture, but it's not the monsters to be actively feared in the cities. The fear comes from violent crime and the Mafiya and bad policy.

They might exist.

But that was in Russia, and here and now, my student was afraid and somewhere in this forest. My Lohengrin was floating away.

"Yuuri! Yuuri, where are you?!"

Moonlight barely lit my way as I scrambled through the Japanese bush, the cold air from a passing north wind stirring up another possible freak snowstorm.

God, I hope not. Japan's winters might not match up to Russian winters, but being outside in such thin clothes was just asking for a cold. At least the way was clear with a dirt path surrounded by trees and the full moon to guide the way. It would seem romantic. Or terrifying.

"Yuuri, it's alright."

He understood English, I knew. Yuuri was a skater competing on an international level, and he had been in Detroit. His last coach was Celestino Cialdini – and had he known?!

Probably not – if this kind of party was happening all the time in Detroit, Yuuri could not have passed the qualifying domestic tournaments to reach the Grand Prix final.

Note to self: contact Celestino and investigate... whatever Yuuri seems to think he should hide from me. No, that wasn't right-

"Ow!" I walked into a tree with thankfully smooth bark. Bits and leaves stuck on my skin as I recalled the play just now.

What was more surprising, I wonder – the party of monsters, or the fact that Yuuri could dead-lift two hundred kilograms of monster by my estimate?

Wood cracked, leaves rustled. The giant monster with the ruddy face – the exact same one playing Telramund just now – stomped towards me as I whirled towards the direction of the sound. The spiked iron club it carried in one hand was as tall as me. As it sauntered forward, I could make out its height – three to four metres, with ruddy skin and wearing... well, horns, more hair than should be possible, and a loincloth of fur.

"Yuuri..." it groaned.

I backed up. "You're looking for Yuuri too?"

It spoke something. In Japanese.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese," I haltingly pulled out my tourist-Japanese.

It jabbed a finger as thick as my waist at my direction. "You. Yuuri?"

"Coach." I pointed to myself. "Viktor."

"Viktor." The great... thing's head tilted. "Viktor. Yuuri. Sad."

"Yes."

"You-"

The great monster froze as a smaller humanoid shape with horns alighted on its shoulder. A melodic voice twittered in Japanese, to which the great monster grunted and replied some more.

I would have gotten my phone for Google Translate, but it had broken. If the two of them don't know English, this might be harder than I thought. In my defence, I had not packed with the intention to talk to monsters without the benefit of locals to help me translate. Why would I expect to, for the love of God?

"You are... the guest." The girl finally spoke in accented English. "At Yū-topia Onsen."

That was far more welcoming than it ought to be. "Viktor, please."

"I am Usugaki. This is my older brother, Sharegaki." the horned girl motioned to the monster upon whose shoulder she stood. "He says that you are Yuuri's... idol. Yuuri puts on the metal blades and skates to emulate you."

...well. "Thank you," I told her. It was a relief that Yuuri didn't hate me, and was the opposite.

"He likes you." The girl repeated. "But you made him cry."

"Not deliberately, I assure you," I told her. "I'm looking for Yuuri."

The monster- well, her brother, started to mumble some more.

"My brother says that if we get rid of you, Yuuri will not cry," the girl echoed.

...Oh. "I'm sure we can talk this out! I'm his coach!"

"We know." The girl sounded impatient. "Yuuri begged for your protection from the gods. Or else, you would have been the target of much mischief upon staying too long in Hasetsu. It is the courtesy agreed upon between them and us."

Yuuri had...? That was oddly attractive, the thought of Yuuri praying for my sake. I must really consider a high-level program for his sake!

"What's with that face?"

"Ah, it's nothing." I wiped my drool on my sleeve with a mental apology to my host, not having a tissue on hand. "Have you known Yuuri for long?"

Not a single insect must have moved as she considered my question. "We have known the Katsuki family since Hiroko's birth."

"His mother's- but you don't look like it."

"I came into being during the Muromachi period. My brother came to be during the end of the Kamakura shogunate."

I had no idea what that meant, but that presumably meant that they were very old creatures. One was ugly, but the other was a truly enchanting creature, with her soft singing voice and- ah, I digress. "So... you've known him forever. That's... great. Are you... his girlfriend?"

"Yuuri!" Mari's voice echoed long before the person herself came into view, swinging a grinning paper lantern along. "Viktor- oh, there you are. Sharegaki, Usugaki."

"Mari-san." The girl spoke, complete with rapid-fire Japanese.

Mari responded some more, and then changed to English: "So you came to see Yuuri's coach?"

"He made Yuuri sad, so Nii-san was going to smash him. I stopped him."

I swallowed. That club looked like I would turn into a bundle of matchsticks really fast.

"We will return to the party. Good evening, Mari-san." Usugaki tugged on an ear, and the... her brother slowly shuffled off, leaving me alone with Yuuri's sister.

The brown-haired woman sighed, a cigarette butt hanging from one corner of her mouth before she removed it to speak. "In that pair, it's not Sharegaki to watch out for. Usugaki was trying to hypnotise you with her miryoku."5

"WHAT?!"

"It failed, but it looked like it might have taken before I came," Mari explained, turning on one foot. "What were you doing there, Viktor?"

"I got lost! And this dog pulled me to the shrine I was looking for. Yuuko said that I could find the answers here." I related the sequence of events to Mari's perpetually deadpan expression. "Then I saw Yuuri lift what must be five times his weight! That's incredible!"

"Four. Sharegaki weighs about two hundred kilos." A ring of smoke gave Mari an otherworldly look. "So... we got discovered."

Eh? What did she mean?

Her meaning was made extremely clear, as Mari's arm whipped out, her elbow easily smashing into the tree next to her. The wood splintered and fibred before it creaked, and the whole thing dropped in a massive thump, muffled by the forest scrub. It gave one bounce before the piles of leaves and petals in smaller trees sagged, their crowns crushed by the fall of one behemoth.

The leaves getting caught in my borrowed kimono seemed rather secondary right now, as I backed away and stared at her in the light of her eerie lantern and its... Her shadow had grown four arms.

That's not normal, right? "Why... your shadow..."

"You don't know. 'Course you don't." Mari wiggled her fingers, checking her elbow which she had just used to fell a tree. "Not even most Japanese would figure it out."

"F- Family secret?"

Sweet, smiling Hiroko and her cooking. Kind, doddery Toshiya who fed Makkachin. Dour, dutiful Mari. Yuuri... the figure skater with the world's biggest glass heart.

"Have you heard about the yōkai called the Ubume?"

I shook my head.

"I thought so," Mari nodded.

The implications of what she had just done sent jolts of panic through my heart. "Yuuri... Yuuri!" I scrambled. "Yuuri's missing!"

"He'll be fine." Mari continued to puff her cigarette. "It can't be helped."

I did not manage to answer, for then Lohengrin bore down on us, heroic in his bearing and the light of the moon dusting the ebony and snow of his feather cloak.

"Mari-neechan?! What happened- Viktor?!"

"We got found out, is what happened," Mari told Yuuri, for it was Yuuri who was channelling Lohengrin now. "This is mainly your thing, so I'll leave you to explain it to him. I'm going back to the party."


Yuuri

"Nee-chan!" I complained as Mari-neechan walked away from Viktor and I, leaving us next to the fallen tree whose fall had diverted my path. If Viktor had... had... I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened.

"Yuuri?" Viktor had managed to put his hands on my shoulders, leaning down to put our faces on an equal level. "What's wrong?"

No.

In Detroit, only Phichit ever got it when I tried to explain Shinto, in passing. He came from a religion that supported ancestor spirits himself, and was... more accepting... when he spotted me as I pushed a car out of a blocked car-park.

To know that the supernatural was really out there, though... it's frightening.

Even with Japan and its hanshin-hangi,6 most people don't want anything to do with the supernatural. Nobody wants it to be real in the sense of monsters eating people. They work really hard to convince themselves that it is not real.

Yuuko-chan and Nishigori had seen one. The funny thing was that the Nishigori family had known, and had not thought too much about it – until the kappa, and then Nishigori had needed to think about it – before he'd promptly locked it out of his mind. They saw a suiko. In the hierarchy of water demons, the suiko ranks above the kappa; it could thus be called the Oyabun of kappa. They kill humans to improve their standing amongst themselves and whatever Dragon King they reported to. One had tried to sneak into Ice Castle after dark, and found me. I had thrown it down the mountain atop which Ice Castle stood, but Nishigori and Yuuko had walked in.

We never spoke about it; I left for Detroit the day after. Yuuko-chan had contacted me after with a Skype call, and a quiet 'thanks'. Nishigori... well, he's much friendlier. He also makes it a point to stand behind me or far away from me.

As the hot springs business reached a standstill, and people got older, my parents' social circles had gotten progressively smaller. Our family was regarded with awe and fear, amongst those who knew about Grandpa's and the yōkai. The only real family friend around was Minako-sensei, and she's technically half-blooded.

"There were... creatures," Viktor said at last. "Things that... weren't human. You danced Lohengrin for them. And... is Yurio in danger? What did he do?! He just came here!"

"Eh? Ah, apparently... Yurio called Unihime-sama – that's one of the two gods of the Atariûni Shrine – ugly and creepy."

Viktor wilted. "His mouth definitely got him into trouble this time..."

"Ah, I managed to get it commuted. Yurio just needs to undergo ritual purification within-" I pondered, "-the next thirteen days. Preferably at a Zen temple. With Zen sticks. And a waterfall."

"Does he need to knowingly go there?"

"I doubt that. He doesn't know that yōkai exist, does he?" I stopped, trying to translate the word, and giving up. "Viktor... this is, erm- I- it's a family-"

"It's fine. It's all fine," I blushed as his face got way too close to put my head between his head and a tree trunk. "Yuuri, I'm not dumb, so you only get one chance to explain."

"Eh...?"

"I'm your coach, aren't I?" Viktor, please, don't say any more- "What does the word... 'Yo-kai' mean? What kind of relationship did you have with the local nezhiti?"

I spent so much effort to hide it from Viktor... I kept hoping that nobody would find out... wasn't that why I moved to Detroit for? And he still found out. Maybe if I body-checked him out of the way?

Viktor must have realised it, for then he stepped back, pulling on my hand. "Ah, it's a family thing, right? So let's ask your parents! After all, we're still staying with them till the Grand Prix final."

Oh... right. Viktor was staying for a long time. Short of asking Grandma to defer her yearly visit, Viktor was still going to meet the person who connected our family to the supernatural anyway.

So much for hoping that he doesn't have to meet Grandma...


Critiquez, s'il vous plaît !

1 The Japanese term Kirishitan, from Portuguese cristão, referred to Roman Catholic Christians in Japanese and is used in Japanese texts as a historiographic term for Roman Catholics in Japan in the 16th and 17th centuries.

2 This is a reference to Journey to the West, which is popular in Japan. Genjō Sanzō refers to the monk Tang Xuanzang, who is constantly terrorised by monsters and demons because of a legend which says that one can attain immortality by consuming his flesh, because he is a reincarnation of a holy being.

3 This is a Japanese folktale: When the Dragon King hears that eating a live monkey's liver is the only medicine that will save his queen from dying, he sends his trusted servant fish to cross the ocean, go to monkey-land, and convince a live monkey to return to the Palace. While they are travelling across the ocean, the monkey learns that the king will cut out his liver, and tells the fish that he left his liver hanging on a tree in monkey-land, where they return to find the tree empty. When the fish swims back to the Palace and reports what happened, the king realizes the monkey's deception, and orders his officers to break every bone in the fish's body and beat him to a jelly, which is why jellyfish do not have bones.

4 Another reference to Journey to the West: The Buddha trapped the Monkey King under his hand, which turned into the Five Fingers Mountain and held him there for 500 years.

5 魅力: generally refers to 'charm' of the demonic persuasion. Other equivalents include glamour, hypnosis, possession etc.

6 半信半疑: a Japanese concept that means 'half-believe, half-doubt'. My professor once said that in Japan, you don't quite practice a religion – it's just custom to pray at every Shinto shrine and Buddhist temple that comes your way.