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The Attic

Dust motes swirled in the small and thin streams of sunlight squeezing through the cracks of old, bent blinds. Dust coated everything like moss/fungus; something alive and growing.

The still, muggy air held the sweet scent of very old wood and the acrid smell of nesting mice and old decaying paper. Brother and stepbrother moved carefully across the attic floor lest it not be sturdy enough and they fall through. They winced and paused at each sound the weight of their feet caused; the wooden floor just as vocal as an old man grumbling about his aches and pains.

They were looking for me; I hoped the search would be fruitless.

Stepbrother sneezed noisily, throwing the dust into a frenzy and earning a glare from his older accomplice. The contents of the attic were lay together like the Tetris blocks of a losing game. Wooden chests of all sizes were piled on top of each other regardless of their ability to hold their companions weight. The numerous padlocks were soft and orange with rust. Stepbrother reached out to touch one and it flaked away to nothing on the healthy pink skin of his palm.

“Don’t touch, Kitsune.” brother hissed in a flat whisper. Kitsune was the name given to step-brother by his mother. His hair was the color of newly glinting copper and blood. Large eyes were tilted and slightly deep-set in his pale, narrow face. Kitsune pulled his hand back and continued walking.

“Sorry, Ash.” he whispered back as they slowly made their way across the attic floor. “What are we looking for anyway?”

“Quiet.”, brother mumbled as he ceased his tentative progress. “It’s around here somewhere. Kody is small, so it must be near floor level.”

“Is?”

Ash’s head turned to look at Kitsune. The expression he wore was like nothing I’d ever seen on his face; he looked as if he wanted to scare Kitsune’s soul from his body.

“My baby brother is not dead.” he said this as if he’d spent some time convincing himself of my well-being. Stepbrother said nothing and would not meet brother’s soul-stealing glare. Brother resumed his search. He was close, a bit too close for my comfort. All he had to do was look down and he would--

“Found it.”, he exclaimed softly as he kneeled on the dust carpet. In front of him were two plain wooden chests with tops that nearly touched the ceiling; more armoires than chests. In the shadowy space between them lay a box on its side. Ash grasped it in his hands as Kitsune knelt beside him for a closer look. The box was as wide as a hardcover book, with a depth of maybe four inches. The wood was black and glossy, though it looked as if it had been handcrafted.

There was no obvious opening on the box, the surface of it seemed to have no seams, and on the top was a picture. A beautiful woman was in the middle, but she could barely be made out. Her face and hands were stark pale like starlight, and the bow and sinewy dragons on her kimono stood out like silver. Bangs of black silk covered her forehead, drawing attention to the fear and sorrow in her eyes. And at her feet, were two large ruby glowing eyes.

“What is it?” brother whispered.

“It’s a Japanese puzzle box.” Kitsune’s voice was light with awe and intrigue. “A very old one.” I could only hope that Kitsune’s Japanese heritage would save them in the end.





The Box

“What does this mean?” Kitsune looked at the box as if reluctant to see it. “Why would you be looking for this, Ash?” Brother ran his palms and fingertips along the edges and sides, trying to find an opening. He should have known better. A puzzle box is a puzzle in itself; a puzzle that must be solved to be appreciated. Or feared.

“You know what happened as well as I.”, Ash said hoarsely. “Kody snuck up here a few times, even though we’re forbidden from coming up here. The last time he came up here…he didn’t come back.” He squeezed the ornate box in his hands. “And so my Father expects me to just sit in this house as if my baby brother hasn’t gone missing; in the attic no less. I’ve been looking for this because those first few times that Kody came back, he told me about this box in great detail. The last time we spoke, he’d told me that he thought he’d figured out how to open it.”

Kitsune touched the box with his fingers briefly, becoming more solemn than was expected of the average American teenager. Yet Kitsune wasn’t an American, he was Japanese, and the Japanese were a different sort.

“When someone disappears in circumstances like this, we don’t speak of it.”, he said while staring at the floor. “They cease to exist in this world, and we do our best to forget them. Those who choose not to forget are treated as if they are insane; we do not acknowledge the truth of what they say.”

“Well, I’m not going to act like Kody doesn’t exist and try to forget about him.”

The Japanese have it right. It’s better and easier to try and forget those who are lost in the way I’ve become lost. At least…it would be better for Ash if he could try it their way…but, I knew he wouldn’t.

“How do you open this thing anyway?”

Kitsune stood and brushed off his jeans with the palms of his hands, avoiding brother’s gaze.

“You don’t.”, he said. Ominous. Brother seemed to think so, and anything that wasn’t straightforward irritated Ash.

“What do you mean ‘You don’t’? Yes, we do. We do because my brother did.” Kitsune turned his back to Ash. His arms were crossed, but he seemed more to be holding himself than anything else.

“You may, but I do not. I will not open anything with her face on it.” Brother stood up too and gestured with the box at Kitsune’s back.

“You know her?”

“Of her, as we all do. She is Death. Her true name is Izanami. It means ‘female who invites’. Anything to do with her is nothing but trouble.” Kitsune’s head turned slightly so he could see Ash from the corner of his eye. “Leave it here and let us get on with our lives.” The box was squeezed so tightly in the palm of brother’s hand; it could almost be heard to groan in protest.

“Tell me what you know, tell me about the woman.” Kitsune looked away again, a sigh falling from his lips. Stepbrother was caring, and no matter the distance between him and brother, he could not stand to see him suffer. He turned back around to face Ash and look him in the eyes.

“As I said, her name is Izanami. She was brother to Izanagi or ‘male who invites’. They mated and Izanami birthed six islands and many deities. When she gave birth to Kagututi, ‘incarnation of fire’, she died. She then went to Yomi, ‘the shadowy land of the dead’, where she would forever stay.”

Kitsune paused and seemed to almost have to physically pull his gaze from Ash’s. He sat back down on the floor, face hidden on his knees, and voice slightly muffled.

“Izanagi killed Kagututi, and then went after his wife to the realm of Yomi. He searched and searched, his heart in his throat and fear in his belly. Izanagi found her in darkness, barely able to see her. Despite this, he asked her to come back with him. Izanami was angry. She told him that he was too late and that she’d already eaten the food of Yomi. Izanami was now one with the shadow land and could no longer return to the world of the living. Izanagi refused to accept this and pleaded with her to leave with him, and after some persuasion Izanami agreed to go with him.

“Izanami warned him not to disturb her as she slept. Yet after a certain amount of time, Izanagi became worried and he went to check on his beloved. Lighting his comb and using it as a torch, Izanagi saw her as she truly was; a blackened corpse ridden with maggots and other creatures running over her rotting flesh. Izanagi screamed and ran, intending to leave his wife behind. Izanami woke and chased after him. Shikome or ‘wild women’ also chased after Izanagi at Izanami’s request.

“Izanagi threw down his headdress which became a bunch of black grapes that the Shikome fell on. They continued chasing him again, and then he threw down his comb which became a clump of bamboo shoots. Now, the creatures of Yomi gave chase, but Izanagi urinated against a tree which created a river that slowed the creatures down. Still they chased him, so he threw peaches at them; a silly delay yet one that might work.

“The boundary of Yomi was near and Izanagi did not have to delay them for too long. He ran through the entrance and then quickly pushed a boulder into the entrance behind him so none could follow. Izanami, his once beautiful and graceful wife, screamed at him that if he left her she would kill one thousand living people everyday. Izanagi then replied with great rage that he would then give life to one thousand and five hundred.

“And so Death came into existence, caused by Izanami, the once beautiful wife of Izanagi.” Kitsune sighed deeply, his entire body shuddering as the air in his chest hissed past his lips. “Izanami was spiteful because Izanagi abandoned her in fear and cowardice. Love should not be as fleeting as that.” He glanced up at Ash, who had barely moved a muscle during the history lesson. “I have told you why you do not open a box that shows her face on it; you must understand.”

Brother looked at the box with a new recognition in his eyes. He smoothed his thumb across Izanami’s face. He closed his eyes tightly then sighed.

“Have you stolen my brother?” he whispered to her. She did not answer, not being able. I was not able either, but I knew the answer. No, she hadn’t stolen me…but she did kill me.





Words Unspoken

The attic was the same, but not. Still the many chests lay against and on top of each other, still the dust thickly coated everything, and still the floor groaned easily and loudly. Yet all of it seemed a blur, a smear of faded color surrounding you. It was if the attic had stepped away at the discovery of the box, the real world wanting nothing to do with the one within the box. Three things stood out clearly though, almost unrealistically so; Kitsune’s face, Ash’s eyes, and the painting on the box.

“Open it.”, brother demanded. “You must know how.”

“Usually there would be a wooden block key involved, but that’s not so for a box with her on it.” Brother waited for more, but Kitsune said nothing as he stubbornly continued to stare at the tops of his knees. I hoped that Kitsune would not reveal how to do it if he knew. If brother persuaded him to tell, then they would both die like I did; if not Kitsune, then definitely brother. Brother knew nothing of the Japanese and had never cared to learn; he was American and all he cared about was America…and little brothers, I guess.

“Don’t sit there and act like you don’t know how to open this, Kitsune.” brother hissed at him while taking a threatening step forward. Brother was eighteen and much bigger than Kitsune’s sixteen; the Japanese being smaller in stature genetically. Brother had muscle and enjoyed sports, though he wasn’t on any particular team, and anyone smaller than him had a right to be scared. Kitsune didn’t seem to be moved at all.

“Beat me.”, Kitsune whispered. “Kill me. Do whatever you feel you have to, but I will not open that box or allow anyone else to open it in my presence.” He finally looked up at brother, and his eyes weren’t his own. Something old was in them. Ancient. “You wish to save your brother. It’s admirable, but I can tell you that your brother is dead and you can not save him from Death.”

Brother paused in his approach, seeing the stranger in Kitsune’s eyes. He watched Kitsune and watched his eyes. Yes, brother was muscular and more rash than not, but he was not in any way stupid. He knew that if he decided to tread on this unexpected turn, he’d have to tread carefully.

“Could you save my brother?” Kitsune hissed and turned his head.

“I can save no one.” Brother turned away, his eyes straying to the box in his hand.

“Fine, you don’t have to help me. If Kody could figure out how to open this by himself, I can too.” Kitsune looked at brother’s back with sorrow and resignation on his face.

“Your Father would be devastated. He’s already lost one son.”

“So what’s one more?”

For long moments, neither said anything. A quiet settled around them, between them, as thick as the dust that coated the attic. For all that stepbrother had seemed ready to leave the box and it’s consequences to brother, he didn’t move to leave the attic. For all that brother seemed ready to figure out how to open the box on his own, he didn’t call Kitsune on his lack of mobility nor did he actively try to open the box in his hand; only looked at it, waiting.

“You’re a fool.” said Kitsune. “Yet if you are going to open it anyway, I can not allow you to do it alone.” Then in a much quieter voice. “I must go.”

Brother said nothing. He just looked Kitsune in the eyes and pressed the box, what he thought was the tool of my salvation, into stepbrother’s hands. Brother may not have said anything, but that action said it all. Kitsune reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. He showed no hesitation or pain as he sliced his palm. As the blood welled up, he rubbed it into the wood on the sides of the box.

“Stars of silver, moon shining bright, behind the light looms darkness, the blackness of death.” Kitsune said this in a kind of monotone. As he said it, words rose up like a rash on the wood; ancient words. “We are all just candles burning in the wind.” The lid of the box popped, becoming loose, as if it had been air pressurized. Kitsune cut off a piece of his shirt and used it to bind the wound on his hand. “It is open. All that is left to do is to remove the lid.”

Brother did not hesitate in removing the lid. His fingertips grabbed the edges of the lid and pulled. Freezing darkness reached out and grabbed them; they were now in Yomi. Where I could not go. Not ever again.





Yomi

A quilt of darkness lay over them and the land. The cold air burned their eyes and nostrils, making it painful to blink and breathe; there was no wind.

“You are not of the dead, for you breathe and can not see past the darkness.” The voice was a man’s voice, one that spoke with authority. Ash startled, but took a blind step forward. Kitsune bowed elegantly.

“You are correct, Great Sir.”, he said. “We have no reason to receive you charming hospitality, yet we are searching for one who is lost.”

“All who are here are supposed to be. The only one who is lost is you.”

Kitsune straightened. He was through with playing the passive role.

“I am not as lost as you think me. Now you will let us pass, Senpoku-Kanpoku, or I will hurt you.”

“What’s Senpoku-Kanpoku?”, Ash whispered. The scent of blood was sharp.

“One thousand candles burning, flames eat up the dark like waves washing away sand. Men cry out with a thousand voices, Light be my guide! Dispel the darkness.” A lit paper lantern appeared in Ash’s hand, just as one appeared in Kitsune’s. And with this light, Ash could see Senpoku-Kanpoku.

He was a large frog, about the size of a mastiff, and at the moment he had a thoughtful look on his face.

“Give me your answer.”, Kitsune demanded quietly. Senpoku-Kanpoku did. He opened his mouth and stuck out his slimy, pink tongue. Rooted to the surface, almost at the tip, was a human head. The skin was pale, saggy, and soggy looking from being kept in Senpoku-Kanpoku’s saliva.

The eyes were pale white, most likely from rolling back into the head at the moment of death. The hair was long gone, and the lips were swollen and soft looking like over ripe fruit. Those lips moved as Senpoku-Kanpoku gave his answer.

“I shall let you pass Old One, you and your unworthy friend. Just do not disturb the Shadow Hills.”{/left}{/center}