Akiko stood at the bottom of the steps to the shrine, the night air slightly chill, and she hugged herself, partly to reassure herself that she really was wearing the thick coat. The area was quiet, with no lights showing in the surrounding houses, and the few streetlights only relieved the gloom to the extent that she could see that the steps were there. Peering up, she thought that she could just make out the torii. Sounds were even clearer than normal; the rustle of twigs in the trees, the sounds of small animals moving around, and, from a direction she couldn’t quite place, the drip of water into a pool.

She realised that she was still standing at the bottom of the steps, and forced herself to start climbing. Even in trainers, her footfalls sounded loud in the stillness, at least until a car went past a few streets over, drowning them out completely. At the top of the steps, she paused just outside the torii, looking for something.

The precincts were lit, with two lights under the eaves of the shrine, one over the water basin, and a handful of others scattered across the grass. The illumination was dim, but bright enough for Akiko to be able to see the area within the trees clearly. She looked over at the shrine house, but there were no lights there, and no signs of life.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she bowed her head as she stepped through the torii, half expecting the sun to come out. Nothing changed. Halfway between relief and disappointment, she went over to the water basin to purify herself. The source of the dripping sound was the dragon-shaped water pipe standing over the basin, dispensing a slow drip rather than the normal gentle stream. The ripples in the surface caught the light, and Akiko watched them for a moment before taking the ladle to rinse her hands and mouth.

As she moved around the shrine after praying, she could see nothing in the shadows under the trees, but the only sounds were of small animals. The smell of earth and plants, with a faint hint of fried noodles and sake (someone’s dinner?) was calming, but gave her no help with understanding her situation. Within the trees, she could see clearly, discarded wrappers and a couple of empty bottles standing out against the grass, but there was nothing strange.

Nevertheless, she felt a growing tension, a nervousness, as she walked around. She was supposed to be doing something. She kept glancing at the shrine building, but it remained dark and quiet. She walked round behind it, where there were fewer lights and, she thought, more pieces of litter. Her nerves increased as she spotted a strange dark shape, but as she cautiously approached she realised that it was just a collection of large stones, almost lost in the gloom her.

She walked back to the front of the building, her stomach now churning with tension. She tried to sit down, but she found she couldn’t stay still for more than a moment. The sense of urgency was almost overwhelming, but she had no idea what she was supposed to do.

Suddenly, she remembered the dream of the picnic, and the wounds that had been inflicted on the kami with every piece of litter. Hurrying over to the nearest wrapper she could see, she picked it up. The tension subsided for a moment, but then started to build until she hurried to pick up another one.

She gathered litter until her hands were full, and then left to find somewhere to dispose of it.