5: Fuzai Shomei: Alibi

***Watanagashi 1982***

For the past four centuries, the people of Hinamizawa have been celebrating Watanagashi, or the Cotton Drifting Festival, on the third Sunday of June. I went with Satoko, one of her friends, and of course the peculiar Rena Ryuguu. Watanagashi was the largest celebration in the village. The stone road that descended from the Furude Shrine and crossed through the Town Center had been lit up and covered with vending stalls on each side. Here, the villagers played games, advertised family businesses, and sold food, drinks, treats, festival clothes, masks, paper lamps, and more. The torii, on each of the three stone terraces leading to the Shrine, were decorated with lights and ribbons. Everyone from all corners of the village came to socialize and forget their cares for a while.

When darkness fell, the people surrounded the platform of the Shrine's haiden to watch a certain Shrine Dance. The ceremony could only be performed by a female of the Furude family. Incidentally, Satoko's friend—the bold little girl who had defended Satoko from me—was Rika Furude. The nine year-old happened to be the daughter of the deceased Priest, and the rightful Miko of the Shrine. Her relatives decided that she should wait one or two more years before taking on the solemn duty of Shrine Maiden. Even so, Rika was so independent and wise for her age that villagers respected her deeply. They whispered that she was a partial reincarnation of Oyashiro; she alone was the holy interface between Hinamizawa and their jealous God. People gossiped that Rika would give the Shrine Dance next year.

At that point, I didn't care much about the history or meaning behind Watanagashi. I just took Satoko and Rika around to various vending stalls and encouraged them when they tried some crafts. Then we watched the Shrine Dance. I wanted to know why the dancer had torn up a mattress. I grew more curious when people started taking handfuls of cotton down to the streambank. Rika explained.

"About a month before the festival," she began, "every family donates a coat or a robe or a little bit of plain cotton to the Furude Shrine, so-it-is. Only heretics refuse to donate, so-it-is. Anyway, all that cotton gets sewn into a huge futon. On Watanagashi, the Miko uses her hoe to disassemble the futon in a certain, precise way. Then the villagers can each claim a piece of cotton to put in the stream, so-it-is. The cotton is set adrift on the stream to soak up and carry away all the sorrows and sins of the villagers. Mion-san, so-it-is, did you know? Cotton absorbs the oil and sweat of your body. It soaks up the impurities. That's why we use cotton, so-it-is."

I tried not to chuckle at the little priestess' habit of saying "so it is." Despite the wisdom evident in her violent eyes, I thought, this girl was less than ten years old. She was still experimenting with language and trying to figure out how a holy Shrine Maiden should talk. Indeed, Rika was cute. She kept Satoko company much more than I did that night. That was a relief for me.

***Detective Oishi***

I woke up the next morning to the obnoxious ringing of my bedside phone. It was Mion. That much I expected, but I wasn't expecting the news she gave me. She told me that Satoko's aunt was dead. In fact, she had been murdered—bludgeoned to death—and found during the night. When I asked if the police had a suspect, Mion said she didn't think so, because Detective Oishi of the Police was questioning everyone around town. This Oishi guy suspected that one of the villagers was the murderer, which apparently deeply offended Mion. She was going on about it angrily.

"Onee," I interrupted, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Does Satoshi have an alibi for last night?"

"Huh? I don't know." Mion didn't even understand the implication of my question.

I knew I had to find Satoshi right away and get the truth out of him. Had he murdered his own aunt? He certainly had motive to do so. Perhaps he had helped arrange for the murder? Perhaps he was hiding somewhere, terrified, not knowing what to do. Or perhaps this feeling within me was entirely wrong, and Satoshi was innocent. Either way, I would help him. So I set out to find the boy I loved.

I biked around the Town Center and the surrounding dirt streets for a few hours before I found him. Actually, even in a village as small as Hinamizawa, it was a miracle that I happened upon him. Satoshi stood in front of a game-and-toy store. It was a popular place for small children, who admired the plushies and stuffed animals, as well as for preteens and some teenagers, who enjoyed the games and the collectable figurines. Satoshi was staring at a large stuffed bear in the display window. I caught onto his thinking right away, and greeted him cheerfully.

"So you want to give that bear to Satoko for her birthday?" I inquired.

He nodded with a slightly embarrassed smile. "There's one problem," he said, gazing at the high-quality stuffed animal. "It might get sold before my next paycheck comes. That's why I stop by once a day to check on it."

"Oh please," I said in mock-annoyance, taking his hand and heading into the shop. "I'll reserve it."

Perhaps Satoshi's lack of common sense, which Mion found displeasing, actually made him seem more attractive to me. Maybe it's because I enjoy helping to set people straight. Honestly, had this boy's head been in the clouds? Satoshi was saving up his only money to buy a special gift for his poor, pitiful sister, and yet he hadn't bothered to reserve the damn toy. Oh Satoshi, I thought, this is why you have me. I did the talking for him and reserved the stuffed animal for Satoshi to pick up as soon as his check arrived. Satoshi, I thought, you won't have to lift a finger when you're with me.

"You know," I teased as we left the shop, "if it's something they like, most people will try to reserve it right away. It's rare for that to not even cross your mind."

Satoshi rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Yeah. But regardless… thank you for doing that, Mion."

The golden-haired boy extended one arm and gently set his hand on my head. He gave my hair an affection ruffle, and then he froze. I looked up at his face. … Satoshi's eyes can be like those of a wildcat when he becomes aggressive. When he becomes frozen with terror, I learned, his dark eyes look those of a rabbit about to be eaten. This was the expression on Satoshi's face when I looked up. But he wasn't gazing at me with such fear—his eyes were fixed on something behind me.

"Well, hello there. There's something I want to ask you about, Mr. Hojo."

The man I saw when I turned around was Detective Kuraudo Oishi. He was not particularly tall, but certainly big, wearing a khaki trousers, a dark grey dress-shirt, and a brick-red tie and suspenders. Judging from his postures, cracked voice, and silver-grey hair, he had to be at least in his mid-fifties. I didn't think he could be much older than sixty, though, keeping that "young" expression of lively interest and good-spirited humor. When he spoke in his cracked-but-accommodating voice, the two businessmen on either side of him surrounded me and Satoshi. They were probably undercover cops. Their gazes, as well as Oishi's sharp eyes, were all fixed on Satoshi.

"What is this?" I demanded rudely, trying to catch the Detective's eye. "You expect him to come with you voluntarily? Satoshi, let's go. He doesn't actually have the right to detain you."

I tried to pull Satoshi away with me, but I paused in surprise when I saw that he had not yet recovered his composure. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and he was visibly trembling. The unfortunate boy looked like he had been caught red-handed. Oishi must have reached that conclusion too. He stepped forward to put his hand on Satoshi's shoulder, saying something like "Now, son," but I refused to allow it. Nobody was going to take my Satoshi away. I dived between the young man and the old one, taking a solid, aggressively protective stance.

"You just want to know if he has an alibi, right?" I questioned, trying to sound strong. "Then I'll explain! Satoshi-kun and I were talking in a restaurant in Okinomiya for most of last night. The place is a café called Angel Mort."

To his credit, Oishi laughed instead of calling me a liar. "But, young lady," he said, "we have already confirmed you were at the festival until the very end. So, I find your story a little hard to believe, Miss Mion Sonozaki."

At that moment, I decided to throw caution to the wind. I was a young woman in love, and there wasn't anything I wouldn't do to protect that love. It was the most fulfilling thing in my entire life, to be in love, and to hope that the boy might love me in return. If I had to blow my cover to protect Satoshi, I would do it. If that meant causing problems for my relatives, I would still do it. If it meant incurring the wrath of Oryo Sonozaki, then still, I would do it. And I did.

"Too bad for you," I told the Detective smugly. "I am not Mion. Consequently, I was not present at Watanagashi. I am Shion Sonozaki. I am the twin sister of Mion. I believe this is the first time we have met, Detective. Well then, Konnichiwa." I bowed politely.

Oishi looked like he was getting tired of engaging me. "It's not wise to tease grown-ups," he stated.

"Then check my family registry," I replied without missing a beat. "Or are you really going to make me stand next to my sister to convince you?"

This remark succeeded in making Oishi pause. He must be starting to consider the possibility that I was telling the truth. He took a few steps back and started whispering with his two colleagues. While they debated what to do, I turned to the still-frozen Satoshi and quickly instructed him.

"Just tell everyone you were at Angel Mort with me, whatever they may say. Oh, Satoshi, are you even listening?" I grabbed his shoulders and gave him a little shake to snap him out of his daze. "Hey! If you don't get back to your senses, the cops will take you away!"

It worked, and Satoshi nodded, "Y-yeah, ok."

The fact that I had revealed my identity began to sink in. I looked down, worried. My voice was weak.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Huh?" Satoshi grunted. "No. Why would I be mad?"

"Well… because I lied to you."

To my undying surprise, Satoshi actually laughed. "I knew something didn't add up," he confessed, "since you didn't always follow our conversations with Rika and Rena. Now it all makes sense."

"So you're really not mad that I pretended to be Mion?" I asked, realizing at the same moment that something in my voice was "off." Of course—that was it—I had stopped imitating Mion's confident, friendly, tomboyish mannerisms. My voice had betrayed its higher pitch and feminine intonation.

Satoshi looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he said, "This isn't the first time we've met, right? I think there were five or six days you seemed not-quite-Mion. Well, alright then. Shion, huh? It's a nice name."

My cheeks flushed pink and I felt so honored, from that one compliment, that I closed my eyes to savor the feeling. I would remember Satoshi as the only Hinamizawa villager that smiled at me after learning my real identity. When the news got out, I would receive looks of disgust and disapproval from villagers young and old, male and female. But Satoshi… he actually laughed when I asked if he was angry. And he said that some days, he had been able to sense a difference between me and my sister. Did that mean he knew me, in a way? Did that mean this wasn't our first meeting after all? Of course. Until now I had feared that I would never catch up to Mion's level of closeness with Satoshi. However, this boy treated me as if my sister and I were equal. On top of that, he complimented my name. I was overjoyed.

***The Underground Torture Chamber***

In the end, Detective Oishi decided to recognize me as Shion, which meant interviewing me at the police station. They brought Satoshi, too, but to my irritation, they questioned us separately. My interview-interrogation went fine, which sort of surprised me—apparently I was a pretty good liar. I worried about how Satoshi's interview went, but when I got out of mine, he had already left. Perhaps, I figured, he was in a hurry to get back to Satoko. Well, Satoko could have him now, I decided. I was satisfied with the little bit of individual attention he had given me that day.

I left the police station feeling empowered, until I realized I was miles away from where I parked my bike. Just as I was considering calling Kasai, I noticed a black car with dark tinted windows parked nearby. Standing between me and the car were three men. I could tell from their black sunglasses and the way they stared coldly at me that they were agents of the Sonozaki clan. I tried not to feel afraid. There was no reason to feel afraid. They were taking me to see Oryo. I would go, get it over with, and return safely home. Nothing could make me bend my will to that Monster.

"Where is Kasai?" I asked my escort.

None of them answered. So, they were going to make me worry about Kasai by not telling me anything about him. Fine. I wasn't going to let that get to me. I sighed in annoyance and got into the car. I figured that the police must have called the main Sonozaki house to verify my identity. As such, I could no longer get away with pretending to be Mion. I knew I was in deep shit, but I was not prepared for what would end up happening.

When we reached the estate, the car pulled up near the entrance to the underground shrine I had never seen. Mion was waiting for me in the springy grass by the side of the drive. She looked neither happy to see me nor worried about me. She maintained a calm and neutral expression, wearing the traditional clothing of the young (male) heir: a cream-colored men's kimono with the deep-blue obi tied in front.

Mion didn't hug me or approach or even give a greeting. Despite the obvious fear on my face, my twin said tersely, "The Family Head is furious," and started walking toward the mysterious shrine's entrance. Before long, we saw a stone building through the trees, taking on a rosy light in the sunset. On one side of the building were steel double doors. So this was the entrance.

We walked through a passage and reached a wall of dark wood and another door. Beyond the door should be the honden, the holy chamber, of this supposed shrine. I hesitated, so Mion opened the door and walked in ahead of me. I followed slowly, and found I was in an underground room made of stone. The place had a heavy, stuffy, and dusty atmosphere. As soon as I entered, I looked to right.

There, on a low stone dais, sat the lead memmembers of the Sonozaki and Kimiyoshi families. They sat on their knees on black floor cushions. In the back, three people sat in a row: Toji Kimiyoshi, Akane Sonozaki, and her husband Hajime Ando. In front were Kiichirou Kimiyoshi and Oryo Sonozaki. The Furude house had no representative because the only living heir to the family shrine was nine year old Rika. Even without the Furudes, though, these people were powerful enough to rule the town.

My father, Hajime, commanded a small yakuza force that had already started to bribe and infiltrate the police forces. My mother, Akane, and grandmother, Oryo, were on excellent, friendly terms with the Chiji, governor-in-prefecture. Along with would-be politician Toji and old man Kimiyoshi, they also controlled the town council. That council, in turn, triple-functioned as Hinamizawa's School Board, Election Committee, and Public Safety Committee. Old Kiichirou, the head of the Kimiyoshi family, was seen as the Village Leader, and had immense influence inside and outside Hinamizawa. Here were the five most powerful people in the village, staring up at me with cold, revolted glares.

Stifling a gasp, I quickly looked away, so as to avoid catching eye contact with one of these austere authorities. When I looked to the left, however, the sight I saw was even more frightening than my relatives. It was a torture chamber. I quickly took everything in, the horrors that lined the honden. A device just like an Iron Maiden but shaped like a demon. Blades hanging on parts of the wall. Chains hanging from the ceiling. A chair with straps—some kind of torture seat—positioned in a corner next to a dense wooden cane and a couple of thick whips. In another corner was a horizontal slab, for a live prisoner, with metal restraints for arms, legs, and throat. Above, on some kind of tool rack, strange weapons hung, similar to sickles, cleavers, and hoes.

So, the stories I heard as a kid were true. There really was a Sonozaki Underground Torture chamber. I turned to Oryo, desperately wanting to ask her if this torture chamber was a just an antique collection, or something being actively used. She spoke before I could find words, though. She looked at me with pure, unrelenting hatred, and her voice sounded so malicious that she had to be part Demon.

"You snake!" she shouted. "First you shamelessly return to Hinamizawa. Now, I find you with the son of a cursed traitor!"