Shen Akihito’s staff clinked as he walked up the gravel road, a saggy backpack slung over his shoulder. Each time he planted its end into the road, the bells hung on its circular top would chime, the only resounding sound in the dark, rural coastline of Washington.
Crickets, ocean waves, bells. So far, yet so similar to the sound of home.
Akihito breathed in the humid air. He had feared America would be too different, and it was, but after traveling on the roads for two days, he already felt connected to the earth.
He made his way to the nearby porch light, which illuminated a small, wooden apartment building stationed at the top of a cliffside hill. It seemed to be ancient, as the leftmost part of the building was built of dark, worn wood and cloudy stained windows, while the rightmost was newly remodeled, with new, clear windows and bright, dry wood.
It hadn’t been obvious what Akihito’s new patient would be angry about when he had first been contacted by the apartment’s owners, as the picture of the building seemed to have been before the haphazard remodeling, but this made it all too obvious.
“[I’ll probably just need to give them a stern talking to,]” he said in Japanese with a sigh, as if he was almost disappointed. “[Hopefully, things don’t get ugly.]”
He stood in front of the door, prodded the bottom of it with his staff for a moment, then opened it and walked in.
The reception area was quaint and kept the left wing’s vintage look and color scheme, but to Akihito’s perceptive eye, it was clearly a ruse. The wood looked dark but not dank and was more uniform than wood sixty years old reasonably should have been.
He walked to the reception counter and tapped a silver bell’s button.
As someone who adored rustic architecture, the hasty imitation of the rough yet immersive wood that made him feel connected to the past was...a bit insulting. It certainly didn’t give him a good impression of the old complex’s caretakers.
Still, when a youngish woman in her late twenties rushed out of the backroom, sporting a red tank top and two pigtails, he did his best to smile and be nice.
“Hello,” Akihito said, jingling his staff in good fun.
She leaned over the counter and looked him down, a bit confused. “Hello. Did you...want a room or are you...” she motioned toward his staff. “The exorcist?”
He briefly bowed and held out his business card. “Shen Akihito, Priest-class exorcist at your service.”
She looked at him like he was crazy but briefly flipped the business card over, finding it curious or possibly funny, considering it made her smile wryly. “Huh. You’re only nineteen years old. Kinda young for an...” she glanced at him weirdly again. “international exorcist.”
“International student,” he corrected her. “And you can call me Akihito. What’s your name?”
“You can call me July.” She walked around the table, then motioned for him to follow her into the dark, right hallway. She quickly flicked a switch, illuminating it with the sickly, bright, white light that Akihito hated. Why would someone intentionally install fixtures that radiated pure, unadulterated pain?
He jingled behind her, making sure his staff clinked with each step.
She motioned to the doors on their left. “Uhh, you’re gonna wake people up with all that racket.”
“I...” he began. “If you say so. I’m just trying to shepherd spirits. They tend to solicit in halls more often than you think.”
“Uhh, riigh-” the woman began to say sarcastically before all the lights flickered rapidly, the sound of sparks following their malfunction. Akihito shielded his eyes from the epileptic flashes, though the girl only winced a little. She lost her sarcastic tone. “Let's just get this weird shit over with.”
She led him up a flight of stairs, then to a room labeled ‘25’, and rested the back of her hand on the frame. “This is the room.”
Akihito walked directly in front, two meters from it. “So, what’s the problem?”
“Didn’t I already explain this to you in the-” she rolled her eyes, too lazy to finish complaining about the exorcist’s carefulness. “Anyone who tries to walk in gets thrown out, then the door shuts and locks. Apparently, people sometimes hear a voice, too.”
He nodded.
“To be honest, I figured ghosts didn’t exist, but it’s a little difficult to explain away sentient wind and doors.”
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“I would guess,” he said, preoccupied with thought as he observed the door.
“Now, I’m just wondering why it’s not common knowledge that they’re real...I mean, assuming this really is a ghost.”
Akihito looked back at her. “So, who do you think it is?”
She shrugged. “Who, the ghost? I dunno.”
“You must have an idea. Was there murder? Did someone drown in the sea? Maybe there was a trinket you found in the walls when you remodeled the place?”
“I really wouldn’t know,” she said with an exhausted sigh. “Both my parents died a few years ago, and they’d be the ones to know.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, bowing.
She waved it aside. “It’s not a problem. Actually, hey, do you think it could be-”
He shook his head. “The ghost probably isn’t your parents. You would know if they were.”
“Ah, ok,” she said disappointedly. “Actually, if you’re an exorcist, can you also talk to the dead or something?”
“That’s a star-rank ex...clusive ability,” he said, stumbling over the complicated word for a moment. “And they only do it when absolutely necessary. Though, I guess if your parents were ghosts, that would change things.”
“Oh. I don’t get it, but uh...should I leave you to your things or...”
“You can watch if you want,” he said. He scratched his head. “Though, to be honest, it would be less embarrassing if you left me alone.”
She nodded. “Ok, just tell me when you’re done.” Then she began to walk away.
“The key,” Akihito said sharply.
She tossed him a card. “Whoops, almost forgot.”
Now that she was gone, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and shuffled through it. He took out an auburn candle and lighter as well as a ziplock bag filled to the brim with pink salt. He lit the candle with a silver lighter and set it on the ground. Then, he quickly used a nut scoop buried in the salt, to shake a small, rough circle around the candle.
“That should do for protection.”
He then inserted the key card into the door’s socket.
1, 2, click!
He slid it open.
What greeted him was an eerie, dark room, equipped with some bare essentials like a bed, dresser, bathroom, and closet, each pristine and new.
“Hello?” he said, poking his head in.
...
He nodded his head. “My name is Shen Akihito. I’m an exorcist, but I don’t want to hurt you...” he combed his hand through his black, short hair nervously. “So if we could talk this out, my job would be a whole lot easier. A win-win for both of us.”
...Without prompting, the leftmost bell on his staff chimed.
He nodded again, a bit annoyed. So the ghost was giving him the silent treatment. “Hiding won’t do you any...favors.”
...
Well, if they wanted to play hide and seek, he could do that. Akihito held his staff out as if making a declaration, then spun it in a sharp circle, the front stopping left of its original position. Creeping behind him, the flame rose like a will-o-wisp and moved from over his shoulder to the left side of the room.
Akihito could have turned on the overhead light, but most ghosts couldn’t be seen by the naked eye. Instead, he used a different source of light to see them.
For just a moment, he saw movement, the faintest flicker of someone dashing out of the sacred flame’s revealing light.
“Oh, come on, you aren’t going to fool me.” He flipped the staff again, this time pointing right, where the phantom was probably hiding. The flight followed its movement.
Another flicker towards the left
Rolling his eyes, he flipped the staff once more, moving the light back.
And another...
“Really?”
He flipped it again.
A flicker.
“Come on, man!”
And again!
Another damned flicker.
Again!
Flicker!
Again!
Flicker!
His eye twitched, and eventually, he massaged his eyes. “If you want to play hide and seek, I would be happy with...con-sen-su-ally doing a gam-”
While he shielded his eyes, he had missed the long-haired girl about his age making a wild dash straight towards him with her fist reeled back, and before he could do a thing, her fist slammed straight into his gut, delivered with such deliberate, ruthless force that it sent him tumbling out of the room and slamming into the wall outside.
She stood imposingly in the doorframe for a moment, looking down on his crumpled body with a determined expression, then slammed the door with a “Hmmph!”
Akihito struggled not to vomit after the savage hit, his vision blurry. After a few seconds of recuperation, he struggled to lean against the wall for support.
This was going to be a long night.