Chapter 1 Troposphere

February 25th, 2022

Woah.

Woah.

Woah.

Yes, that was intentional. Let me add another: woah.

When you see it in real life, that long light brown wavy hair really stands out. The three-quarter-length bolero jacket she was wearing was the same I saw in the new signboards. Underneath the bolero, she wore a black dress. Hanging from her neck, on a strap with Paul Smith stripes, was a mobile phone and an ID card.

The real thing seemed mature despite her short height. Must be the dress accentuating her body. Wait no, it’s her small head! Couldn’t tell from the photos.

She was browsing books in the cookbook corner. That’s when-

“Um, you’re the Blessed One, right?”

-A lone hero appeared and called out to her. Well, what do ya know? It was me. No way. Good job me.

“Yes, that’s me”, she replied with a friendly smile. It happened so naturally that I couldn’t believe it. In my mind, her smile was supposed to be sort of detached like a wild animal just like in the flyer I saw. It never crossed my mind that she could smile so politely.

“U-Uh, I’m sorry if you’re not working now but—“, I continued; my nerves acting up as I adjusted my glasses.

“I am working whenever I’m in the shops. If it’s alright, could you give this to me as an offering?”, she said holding out the book she was just reading. It was a thin cookbook for beginners.

Oh right. If you call out to the Blessed One, of course she’ll think you want to give her an offering.

I took the cookbook and checked the price. Woah. But I have enough for it! I nodded before taking the book to the cashier.

“Here you go”, I said as I handed the book to her.

I could feel the stares of the people around us.

“Thank you. Would you happen to have something with your name written on it?”

I took out the card that had been attached to that flyer. Mana then took out a fude pen and a bundle of paper strips from the tote bag hanging from her shoulder.

“Ms. Tachibana Junko, you’d like your name written in cursive. Is that correct?”, she asked and I confirmed it.

All the Blessed Fudas I saw at the shrine were written in standard style. I imagined what her cursive might look like.

She wrote without much movement from her wrist. Rather than someone writing, she seemed more like someone playing a musical instrument. She wrote on a paper slip like that and soon-

“Here is your fuda”, she said courteously as she handed the slip to me.

Woah.

Woah.

Woah.

Woah.

Woah.

I could more or less read my name since it was just three kanji characters. And I knew the “now” character in the book title was the thing that looked like “to”. But I drew a blank for the rest. No different from looking at Arabic script to me.

I couldn’t read most of it. Yet, it was beautiful.

No waaaaaaaaaay. This. Is. Art. I felt so grateful then that it felt like the blood pumping through my veins would burst out my nose.

While I was busy feeling my emotions, she spoke again, “Will you be taking it home?”

“I can take it?”, I replied with a question.

She answered, “Yes. However, if you do, it will not be displayed at the shrine.”

When it comes to things like this, it’s probably better to have it be displayed at the shrine. It’s more appreciated and it’ll look pretty with all the other slips. Still, I really do want to keep it as a memento. Ahhh, but even if I take it, it’s basically a receipt and that’s kinda sad.

“Please display it at the shrine”, I said.

She said, “Understood. Then, I’ll be taking my lea-“

Before she could finish her farewell, I adjusted my glasses and blurted out rapidly, “Just now, I saw the Blessed Fudas at the shrine and it looks like you got a fridge. Does that mean you’re living by yourself? Where do you go to school at? What year are you?”

She gave a vague smile but kept her words direct, “Please refrain from asking personal questions.”

“Oh… I’m sorry”, I apologised weakly.

She replied, “Then, I’ll be taking my leave. Thank you” and left the bookstore.

For the price of three manga magazines worth of money, I worked up the courage, had my breath taken away, and understood something very important. The next day, the Blessed Fudas at the shrine with food items and other daily necessities increased. Among them was my own fuda which I saw and confirmed with my own eyes. I was certain now seeing that fuda; Blessed Ones are just that kind of existence and I should act in the proper way.

If her and my story paused there and started up again 20 years later when we’d have an unexpected reunion, this would have been an orthodox and easy story to understand. It’d be easy to categorise it, put a genre to it. A simple short story that would show just the right parts of our lives written vividly for the readers. All that in just 30 pages.

Nonetheless, similarly to how the question “Why is the sky blue?” is a dreadful foe, what she and I had, what happened between us is something that I find hard to talk about. Where could I even begin? Often it felt like we were in a comedy with all the events that happened, though she and I played our parts seriously. That is why I don’t want it all to simply be summed up as a comedy but still, as one of the actors in this comedy I must play my part. I will not be like novices who struggle to hold back their laughs and keep a straight face. Instead, as a proper actor would, I will act as the characters would, never laughing at all for they never find their own misfortune funny.

The next start was the day after. “In the third trimester of my third year of middle school, transfer students arrived in my class.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

In the third trimester of my third year of middle school, transfer students arrived in my class.

My school is a private school so I thought only third culture kids could transfer in. Was I lied to?

If the principal had introduced them at the opening ceremony, I could at least hear some sort of explanation. But in this case, there’s not even that.

Or so I thought. I was on the bus the morning of the opening ceremony when the bus made a stop and I saw Etou Mana, in the same uniform I wore, get on.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

I’m at a loss.

My head was filled with the events this morning. I felt something like anger, or heartburn. Like I had it out for someone. Or maybe I was just sulking. Ugh, I’m tired of it all! I know there’s no use.

Etou Mana wasn’t the only one who got on the bus. There was another transfer student following behind her. As Etou Mana stood at the fare box (this bus’ fare was equal for everyone and had to be paid in advance), the person behind her reached their hand around from the side and tapped their PASMO card onto the scanner.

“This is for her share of the fare”, said a husky voice. The person behind was a slim, tall girl with long legs.

“This is mine”, the tall woman said as she took out another PASMO card and tapped it onto the box too. The driver didn’t comment at all on the peculiarity of how they paid and the two made their way to the seats at the back.

I watched from my seat on the left side of the bus, third row from the front.

When she walked past me, it seemed that Etou Mana had noticed me and glanced at me. And if I wasn’t imagining it, she seemed to have smiled too. Just like an aloof wild animal. Actually when I look back on that, it really does feel like it was just me imagining things. Ugh, I don’t know anymore. It’s already passed anyway.

Mana’s necktie was the same colour as mine: crimson red with pink stripes. That means she must be a third year like me too. My school divides the neckties for the different years by colour and patterns so I’m sure of it. The tall girl was wearing the same necktie as well.

Since my school usually only accepts third culture kids, does that mean those two just came back from abroad? And since the two of them were waiting at the same bus stop, they’re probably sisters or something. But that doesn’t sound right. They’re both in the same school year and they hardly look related. Etou Mana has mono eyelids and a round face a bit like a cat. She’s pretty but definitely more on the plain side. The tall girl had these strong facial features and double eyelids. All her features were closer to the public’s beauty standard.

That tall girl was holding onto Etou Mana’s PASMO card. Is it because Blessed Ones can’t touch money? PASMO cards can be used for shopping as well so they’re basically money. Dad said it was impossible. He said “Nobody could live comfortably like that.” Yet somehow Etou Mana’s accomplishing the impossible. All thanks to that tall girl helping her out.

Ugh, I hate this. There’s no use complaining, I know.

My heart was disturbed. The last two days, I had come to the understanding of what Blessed Ones were, but now I felt like that understanding had been shattered. Does Etou Mana really never touch money? All day and night, every day of the week? What for? Dad said she was “just playing pretend”. That would make sense. Nobody would blame her and yet—I just don’t get it. Not the way I don’t get how televisions work. It was completely different. It was this feeling that churned at the depths of my stomach as if there were a hot pot inside. That’s how it felt.

What’s that tall girl’s deal anyway? She’s transferring in so is she a third culture kid? I was curious about the answer to both. The answer will probably become clear soon enough though. In fact, it did. But what brought turmoil into my heart more than anything else was not questions like those that had clear answers. Instead, it was that glance Mana gave me as she walked past.

Things like circumstances of your birth, your home environment and upbringing are concrete and observable by the naked eye. However, the effect they have on people’s fates are very much limited. Tiny coincidences: unpredictable, uncontrollable, and even unobservable. These are what really determine people’s fates. Or at least that’s what I heard. Mana’s glance that morning was perhaps that sort of tiny coincidence. If Mana had never noticed me there and just walked past, maybe everything would have turned out differently. Compared to that glance, maybe Mana and Yukari ending up in the same class as me was not all that significant.

Yes, Etou Mana and that tall girl became my classmates. The only two transfer students transferring into the same class was certainly suspicious. I couldn’t help but think there must be something more behind it all.

The homeroom teacher introduced Etou Mana simply saying, “She’s currently working as the Blessed One so she can’t touch money”. Nothing about why she transferred. The tall girl, Hasegawa Yukari did not have the circumstances for her transfer revealed either.

At this school, classes go on like usual after the opening ceremony. I was restless wanting to know more about the two but that just made it harder for me to approach them casually. And so, I didn’t bother joining the swarms of people around the two at lunchtime. I instead made use of hearsay from my friends and messages to find out more about them.

First it was “Hey Rucchi (my nickname), COMS Hakusan is in your neighbourhood, right?” Then it was, “They say the reasons for their transfer are a secret.” Finally, it was,

“No matter what you ask, they always say it’s a secret. So, Iida (a fellow third year) got a bit annoyed and said, ‘Kinda weird if you ask me”. Then, do you know what Etou said? She said, ‘Who are you saying that to?’

She wasn’t joking either; she had this serious look in her eyes. But Hasegawa just had this face like it was obvious she’d react like that and didn’t say a word. So of course, it just ended in an awkward silence.”

Now you’re talking! I was overjoyed. If you play with a wild animal, you can’t complain when you get bitten. Isn’t that a great line: “Who are you saying that to?”. I think it is. Although I will avoid becoming the one on the receiving end of that line.

Even when school was over, I couldn’t bring myself to approach them and ended up going home on a different bus. When I got home, I felt like seeing the picture of Mana on that flyer, so I took out one that had been put away.

At school, her long wavy light brown hair stood out even more. Brown hair is supposed to be against the rules but I’m guessing she got permission due to her job as the Blessed One. After all, you’ve got to leave an impression with your looks or else your customers might not remember you.

Etou Mana’s make-up less face, her raw smile that felt detached. It was all too much. I didn’t know what to do. What do I do?

The glance this morning was occupying my mind. So much so I couldn’t calm down. Restlessly, I adjusted my glasses every ten seconds, stood up, sat down, rolled around. All the while, looking at the flyer.

“I’m back”, my dad had come back.

I went to greet him at the living room and said, “Welcome back.”

My dad’s face turned serious and he said,

“Junko, God is dead.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

When I was in elementary school, they gave us homework to write about our parents’ jobs. Just as they taught me at school, I interviewed my dad,

“Dad, what’s your job?”

“I’m an artist”, he answered.

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I asked, “What do you do?”

“I create anew the sun by burning the massive flame that is the truth”, he answered.

I had written down my father’s answers as faithfully as I could on a piece of paper and as a result, I was given the worst grades for that homework.

My father is active in many diverse fields. He mainly does modern poetry and oil paintings but he also dabbles in haikus, sculpting, and photography. From the day 15 years ago when he left his fine arts university until today, dad’s always had boundless surging passion for his artistic endeavours, and until present time, none of it has ever made him any money. My father and I are living off of the inheritance money my grandfather left for us.

Right then, let’s resume from “Junko, God is dead”.

“That so? God’s dead, huh. What about you, dad?”, I asked.

“I’m alive. Probably. However, that’s not the problem. COMS Hakusan’s Blessed One, the one on the flyer I showed last time, her shrine’s opened for business. And she looks like she’s the real thing. Ergo, God is dead”, he said to me.

“The real thing?”, I questioned.

He explained, “A fake Blessed One gives life to God. God being alive and the Blessed One being a fake are the same thing. The fact that the Blessed One is a real one means that God is dead.”

“I’m fine with anything as long as you’re alive, dad”, I said.

“You don’t get it, Junko. I have to grapple with this problem head-on”, he said.

When my father gets into “grappling with problems”, it’s a sign he’ll be creating a new art piece.

Once my father finally finished his speech, he started putting away the groceries into the fridge. I was heading back to my room when he spoke again,

“Junko, I saw a Blessed Fuda with your name on it at the shrine. That Blessed One is dangerous. Don’t talk to her.”

In all honesty, I felt that I didn’t need to be told that, because I already knew that ages ago. That’s the feeling I got.

I kept quiet about the fact that I made an offering to Etou Mana two days ago. There were a bunch of reasons why. For example, it felt like it would be like bragging about doing something good. But now that my dad’s warning me like this, I remember that there was probably also a reason like “not wanting to worry my dad”. I could feel that I was approaching something dangerous. It’s not that Etou Mana was dangerous, no. There was danger in what I was drawing out from her, or perhaps she from me. That’s what my instinct was telling me. Something that would lead to consequences that couldn’t be reversed by just putting distance in between us.

“Yeah, sure”, I said and returned to my room to look at the flyer.

 What do I do? I don’t know what this is—No, I know what this feeling is. Now I know. It’s fear. I was terrified of the danger she brought.

Etou Mana. I can no longer chalk it up to me being drawn to her name.

It took a long while to admit it because it felt like I’d be admitting defeat so I’ve just been stuck like this, but there’s no use now. I have to admit it.

I am…drawn to her.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

There’s no way.

There’s no way someone can live 24/7 without using money. The Blessed One in “The Wandering Knife” secretly used money. I’m sure the truth is that Blessed Ones have always done that even in the olden days. Among the students at my school, many of them live at Sama New Town and shop at COMS Hakusan so she definitely can’t use money out in the open. But, at places nobody she knew was watching, she’d definitely be using money. There’s no doubt about it.

When I gave an offering to Etou Mana, I had felt like I understood. The fact that Blessed Ones were like that and that I should act the way I did then. But now that confidence has disappeared. When you don’t understand the other party, you feel a sense of danger, a sense of fear.

If she is secretly using money, then I can be at ease again. Then I’ll know she’s not dangerous, that there’s nothing to be scared of, that she’s a human just like me. That was what I wanted to make sure of.

And so, I (though at the time I was unaware of it) started keeping a close eye on Mana’s actions.

Logically speaking, and considering the fact that the only two places to use money in school were the vending machines and the co-op, it’d hardly be possible for her to use money secretly. But I wasn’t calm so all that came to mind were a mountain of baseless self-serving fantasies. In my mind, by the power of my nonsensical logic, I could already see Mana buying a can of coffee at a vending machine.

What am I, a stalker? Yeah, I’m definitely a stalker, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Getting close to danger does also mean becoming a dangerous person yourself.

The crowd of people that had surrounded the pair of odd transfer students soon dwindled to zero on the third day. Even as info from my friends stopped coming, I continued my observation from afar. “To shoot the general, first shoot his horse.” I’m keeping an eye on that tall girl, Hasegawa Yukari too. From what I’ve seen from that incident with the PASMO cards, as long as Hasegawa Yukari is by her side, Etou Mana does not use money. But my observations have shown that though they seem to always be together, they actually do go places individually every once in a while.

The lunch break of the fourth day, Etou Mana left the classroom alone without Hasegawa Yukari. I followed behind.

She went down the stairs to the first floor and walked to the corner where the vending machines were. I kept a distance of 5-10 metres as I went after her. It doesn’t seem like I’m in any danger of being noticed. She’s approaching the vending machines. My heart is beating loud.

I must’ve been quite a sight to Yukari who was watching from behind.

“Hello, Tachibana”, she greeted me.

My body went stiff.

Turning around like my body was a rusty machine, I saw Hasegawa Yukari there.

“Umm…What’s up?”, I said.

I fidgeted with my glasses, a habit of mine when I’m nervous. A sliver of armpit sweat trickled down dropping to the floor.

Hasegawa Yukari smiled like she knew very well what was going on, and then tilted her head to the side meaningfully,

“Nothing much”, she said with amusement clear in her husky voice.

“That so”, I said.

I haven’t lost sight of Etou Mana yet. Still, it’s probably better to give up on tailing her for now. I returned to the classroom.

Even if the fact I tailed Mana was exposed, Yukari shouldn’t know why I was tailing her. My imagination ran wild with all sorts of similarly convenient explanations that’d keep me in the clear. Before I knew it, it was the fifth day’s lunchbreak. It’s the same as yesterday. Etou Mana is leaving the classroom alone without Hasegawa Yukari. Of course, I followed right after.

She went down the stairs to the first floor again today, heading to the vending machi—”Hello there, Tachibana.”

My body stiffened up.

As I was turning my creaky body around, Hasegawa Yukari continued,

“Tachibana, I have a favour to ask you.”

Her voice sounded very much like she was having fun with this, though it didn’t sound like she was joking.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

I don’t miss Mana. My memories of her are still painfully vivid even now. Right, just like her smile was. Mana is still there. Her colour never fading, never letting herself be defined, and always giving me more mysteries to ponder. I have never to this day known another person I’ve thought resembles her even slightly. The human named Etou Mana is still beyond my comprehension.

I do miss Yukari.

She played the perfect prince for the girls around her. At least, that’s how it is in my memories. Slender and tall with long limbs and a long neck. Her face was pronounced, somewhat like a young boy, and from her lips came out a husky voice. She always seemed like she was having fun. As if she had just thought of a joke or something. I never saw her angry even once.

Every part of her fit the role of a stereotypical ‘princely girl’. Even though I knew she was the type to do things like that, the curse of cliches was too strong and even then, I thought of her as a prince.  

It’s likely that I didn’t know her well enough. Mana’s tagalong: that’s what Yukari was to me. Perhaps that was what she herself wished for as well.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

Etou Mana’s tagalong.

If you asked my friends, they’d say Etou Mana was Hasegawa Yukari’s tagalong. Hasegawa Yukari is the mysterious prince, and Etou Mana is the shorty who for some reason gets to monopolise her attention. For that reason, information about Etou Mana didn’t come up much which annoyed me.

“Tachibana, I have a favour to ask you”, she said.

“What is it?”, I asked as I moved my creaky limbs to adjust my glasses.

She asked, “Could you try becoming Mana’s friend?”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　＊

Etou Mana remembered me.

“Thank you for yesterday”, Mana said.

“Not at all”, I said.

After that, Etou Mana remained silent, simply looking at my face. I adjusted my glasses as I started talking,

“…Etou, why did you become a Blessed One?”

Etou Mana stayed silent and looked to the side. In her place, her tagalong (Hasegawa Yukari) said,

“Sorry, Mana doesn’t like those sorts of questions.”

Woah.

What’s so woah, you say? The fact that she’s just staying silent and looking to the side. I get it. I have questions that I don’t want people to ask me too. Like “What’s your father’s job?”. Isn’t that attitude a bit too much? I can’t say I hate it but it is very woah.

“Then what sort of questions should I ask?”, I asked.

“Let’s see… Maybe you could ask if the cookbook has been helpful?”, she replied.

She knows that I gave a cookbook as an offering. In that case, Etou Mana must have talked about me to this tagalong of hers. I wonder what she said about me. I really wanna know. I can’t ask that though.

“Has that cookbook been helpful?”, I asked.

“Yeah”, she said.

And here’s the silence again. I’m not giving up!

“Do you cook?”, I asked.

“Yeah”, she replied.

“Do you make breakfast, lunch and dinner by yourself?”, I asked remembering that Mana brought lunchboxes every day to school.

“Yeah”, she replied.

“Do you live by yourself?”, I asked.

“Yeah”, she replied.

Is she just gonna reply with “yeah” every time? Alright then,

“Do you hate me?”

Etou Mana smiled and replied, “I like you.”

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