“Revd Shiraishi, could I ask a favour?â€

“What? Yes, of course.â€ Shiraishi sounded wary.

“Er, I just wanted to ask you to watch the protesters for a while. Is that OK?â€

“Oh, I see.â€ The priest seemed quite relieved. “Yes, that’s fine. What do you want to do?â€

“Talk to Tamao again.â€

“Can you?â€

“I don’t know. But I think I have to try.â€

The priest nodded slowly.

“It would certainly be very useful to know what he wants, and be able to talk to him more reliably. What will you do?â€

“I was thinking of going into the shrine woodland, and seeing whether I could contact him there. I should be out of sight of the protesters.â€

“Fine. I’ll make sure none of them go back there.â€

“Thank you. I’d better go and get ready.â€

The pounding of Akiko’s heart was already starting to fill her ears, and her mouth was dry as she walked to the bathroom. <em>I have to talk to him,</em> she told herself, <em>I have to try.</em> But things seemed much more difficult now. Nothing had happened since the Tamashi Shizume, but Akiko had been thinking about it. She had completely lost control of her body, words and actions. Tamao could have done anything with her. And Tamao did not exactly have a track record of being considerate of her feelings and goals.

She didn’t want to do it again, didn’t want to give him another chance. If he forced his way in, well, there was nothing she could do about it, but inviting him… No. And yet, she did need to talk to him. Whether she was protecting people from him, or working with him to protect the people from something else, or even just trying to guide him, like a strong flow of water being used to power a mill, she needed to know more about what he wanted. Visions of litter in the shrine weren’t enough any more.

She washed herself carefully, three times, soaking in the bath between each shower. When she got dressed, her underwear was new, laundered but unworn, and she had thoroughly cleaned her miko’s vestments earlier in the day. <em>Purity,</em> she thought. <em>I mustn’t offend him.</em>

The sky was heavy with clouds, the air dense with the promise of rain, and for a moment Akiko was ready to use that as an excuse to put off the experiment. Chiding herself for cowardice, she stepped into the sandals in the garden, and crossed the bridge to the exit to the shrine precincts.

Carefully rinsing her hands and mouth, she looked around. The wood for the new shrine was piled to one side, the site still a scar of bare earth. The stones of the iwakura were dark under the dark sky, and Akiko felt as though they were watching her. With a shiver, she looked away, to see Shiraishi shooing a protester out of the shrine grounds. She heard a protest, something about fascism that she couldn’t entirely catch, and then the precincts were quiet. Even the sound of cars was muffled, as if someone had wrapped a blanket around the shrine.

Akiko hurried into the woods, the crunch of earth under her sandals the loudest noise, the trees eerily still, as if they were waiting for something. Or as if the sky were holding its breath for an underwater dive. As she threaded her way between the trunks of the trees, stepping over undergrowth and ducking under branches, that image took hold in her mind. The air tasted damp, and her movements even seemed a little more difficult, as if the air were thicker than normal. Sounds were muffled, but she could feel vibrations in her gut. Making her way deeper into the woods, the smell of damp earth, damp wood became ever stronger, and she thought that the trees wavered as she glimpsed them from the corner of her eyes, as if she were seeing them through water.

She knew roughly where she was going, but the tree with the shimenawa seemed to be further into the woods than she remembered. When she came out into the clearing around it, the space was gloomy, the shards of sky she could see over her head black with cloud, the air as still and oppressive as it had been before. Slowly, she approached the tree, reaching out for its twisted bark.

The contact was the opposite of electric, as all tension drained from her, and the leaves of the tree rustled once, although she felt no breeze. Stepping forward, Akiko had embraced the tree before she realised what she was doing. Pressing her cheek against the rough surface, she breathed in its scent, wood and water, age and life, the bark warm against her skin, her vestments cutting her off from the wood, from the calm that it offered.

Akiko took a step back, and brushed at her vestments with her hands. They were still remarkably clean. She drew herself up straight, looking at the tree, and bowed. Something shifted as she came up, and for a moment she thought she could see other things out of the corner of her eye. She bowed again, her attention focused inwards, and had the same sense again. This time, though, she also caught the changes within her.

She clapped, and it was as if pieces of a jigsaw in her head were jolted a little more into place. She could almost see it.

One more clap, and the key was almost there, she was sure of it.

She bowed, looking at the ground, and finally she knew what she needed to do. It wasn’t that difficult, just a different way of seeing, of thinking. Of sensing.

She looked up at a world alive with spirits.

Figures like tiny dolls gathered on the branches of the trees around her, watching her without hostility. A pair of birds flew down, followed moments later by the spirit bird watching over them. She heard the rush of its wings, a clear, sharp sound in the air, and then she heard a grumble from overhead, tasted electricity, and looked up at the spirits writhing within the clouds, still asleep but only barely so.

Ahead of her, the tree was still a tree, but it seemed older now, and she sensed roots stretching down to the bottom of the earth, and branches that brushed the sky. It was larger, so large that the whorls in its bark were larger than her, and she had a vision of crawling into one, taking refuge within the tree, hiding from the threats.

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. She couldn’t run away. Carefully, watching for spirits, she walked to the far edge of the woodland, to the edge of a ridge overlooking the city.

Nausea overpowered her, driving her to her knees. The stench was unbearable, the tendrils of decay woven tightly between the houses, coiled along power lines, while twisted forms clambered and slithered among them. She saw one reach down and catch a child’s foot, sending her tumbling to the road. The girl’s cries pierced the air as she sat up, too far away for Akiko to see any details.

Tearing her gaze away, Akiko pushed herself to her feet and staggered back into the woods.

What could they do?