Jiro and the Bathhouse of Desire

Chapter 47: 47. Confession in the Stacks


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Jiro groaned and slumped to the floorboards. “You must be joking! We have to go through every single book? How many are there in this library? Ten thousand?”

“Considerably more than that,” said Sumire.

“Considerably?”

“Try adding a zero.”

Jiro sighed and rubbed his temples. Well, it couldn’t be helped. This was for Aya … and for Ken … and for Sheena and Tae. Now that he thought about it … a lot was at stake.

Yui came over and tugged on his shirt. “Get up. No time.”

There really wasn’t any time to waste. They decided to divide the library into four quarters. The goal was to find books that might possibly be relevant for their search. They would bring those books into the tea room. And then later, once they had finished combing the library, they could go through those books to make a list of potential spirits that might be the one they were looking for.

Some hours later, Jiro stopped, sniffled and rubbed his eyes. He had combed the stacks for what felt like days. But after checking at least three thousand volumes, his stack of ‘maybe’ books was only a few volumes high. He was a slow reader (after all, he’d grown up reading English, not Japanese) and many of the books were handwritten in illegible or archaic characters. The weak underground lighting and the dust weren’t exactly helping either.

He sighed. The whole thing seemed hopeless. There were so many books. And even once they managed to assemble a stack of candidates, there was still the question of whether any information inside was relevant. Identifying the spirit wasn’t enough. They also had to track it down and defeat it. It was layer upon flimsy layer of supposition and overly optimistic hope. But what else could they do? Jiro couldn’t think of any other plan. He took a breath through the fabric of his shirt. Then he pulled another book from the shelf and flipped it open.

Suddenly, Jiro felt something brush his shoulder. He sneezed, knocking a row of books from the shelf in front of him.

“Oops sorry. Kaori told me about your allergies, but I forgot.”

“Oh, it’s you Sumire,” said Jiro, wiping his nose. “You scared me.”

“Here, sip on this. I brought it from the kitchen upstairs.” She handed him a cup of tea. Then she sat down on a nearby stool and watched him gulp down the liquid. The tea was cool, refreshing. It soothed his tired eyes.

When he finished the tea, he noticed Sumire looking at the half-open book still in his hand.

“Enjoying your search?”

Jiro followed her gaze … and nearly dropped the centuries-old tome onto the floorboards. Inside the book in his hands, drawn in graphic detail, were ink paintings of men and women engaged in … what could only be described as extreme sexual acts.

“I know men your age can only think about such things … but at a time like this, Jiro?”

Jiro began to babble. “N-no you see I just happened to select this …”

“Were you thinking about trying those out on my daughter?”

“N-no I … you … uh …”

“Or on Yui maybe? Hmm?” She glanced back at the book. “Or could it be you want both at once? Yui and Kaori?”

Jiro’s face turned to the color of prune juice.

“No?” Sumire winked at him. “Two ladies isn’t enough? You want all three? You want the mother to join in on the fun?”

“N-no! Of course not!”

Sumire laughed. A high tinkling laugh, more high-pitched than her daughter’s. “Kaori was right. You’re so much fun to tease. Here …” Sumire slid another stool over. “Sit down. You look exhausted. Have another cup of tea.”

“But the books …”

“It’ll be easier to continue after a short break. Besides, there’s something I want to talk about.”

“Alright …” Jiro sat down wearily and let out a sigh. Sumire poured him another cup of tea and this time he sipped it more slowly, enjoying the slight bitterness and the sensation of energy flowing into his body. “What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Jiro, I want to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For keeping Kaori company.”

“Kaori?” Jiro cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

Sumire crossed her legs on the stool. “She’s relaxed around you.”

Jiro laughed. “You’re joking right? Kaori’s relaxed around everyone. And it’s no surprise, considering how beautiful she is …” He blushed. “Considering how beautiful both of you are.”

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“I’m flattered. But I’m not joking, Jiro. A lot of how Kaori behaves is an act.”

“An act? Nothing about her feels fake to me. She seems comfortable with the bathhouse staff. With you … with Yui. With the Kaiju.”

“Well that’s the thing, Jiro. Kaori is fine with women. But she doesn’t like men.”

“What? Kaori doesn’t like men? Surely, we must be talking about two different people.”

“Have you seen Kaori in friendly relations with a man other than yourself?”

Jiro paused. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen her talking to anyone but Ken … That’s my friend’s father. And that was an emergency situation.” Jiro frowned. “But surely she meets guys when she has the time?”

Sumire shook her head. “I doubt it. Kaori has … a fear of men. Especially men with strong sexual appetites. It’s something she’s had since she was a teenager.”

“You’re not teasing me?”

“No.”

Jiro frowned. If that was true, then Kaori did a wonderful job of hiding it. He hadn’t noticed anything like that at all. But then again, he simply hadn’t seen Kaori interacting with very many men.

“Kaori had a traumatic experience growing up. A man tried to rape her.”

“That’s terrible … as a teenager? Who could do such a thing? Some madman? A criminal?”

“If only it were so simple. The man wasn’t a stranger.”

“A friend? A fellow student?”

Sumire shook her head. “It was her father.”

Jiro blinked. He looked at Sumire. This was no joking matter, and Kaori’s mother certainly didn’t look like she was playing around.

“It was an arranged marriage. That’s my excuse, I guess. For allowing such a terrible thing to happen. It’s common, you know, in our profession. To enter into an arranged marriage in order to preserve the spiritual bloodlines. Without a strict practice like this, there’s no way a line of shrine maidens can continue for centuries like ours has.”

“And the person you married. Kaori’s father …”

“Was a monster of a man. Of course, I didn’t know he would stoop that low. He had violent tendencies and often flew into fits of rage. But … his own daughter …” Sumire shook her head. “If I had known earlier, I would have torn him to pieces myself.”

They were silent for a time.

“So,” said Jiro finally. “Because of that … trauma. She can’t trust men anymore?”

“That’s what I thought. But when I saw you and Kaori today, something felt different. I can tell she’s opened herself up to you. Not completely … but she’s willing to tease and flirt with you. And that’s a sign that something has changed …”

“But why me …”

“Your condition.”

“My condition? Oh …” It suddenly made sense. “She knows that I can’t do anything to her. That I can’t force myself onto her.  Because of my allergies. No matter how much she teases or flirts with me. She’s in control. She’s safe. Because I’m useless ...”

“You shouldn’t see it like that, Jiro. Thanks to your condition, Kaori is opening herself up for the first time in many years. You should be proud of that. This is her chance to change. To recover. Or is my daughter not good enough for you?”

“No, I don’t mean that—”

There was a knock on the ceiling. A head popped out from the trapdoor opening. It was Yui.

“Yui?” said Jiro. “What is it?”

“Come.”

“But we’re not done going through the books yet … did you find something?”

Yui nodded. She extended one hand down the opening and beckoned them toward her. “Come. Kaori found a clue.”

 

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