The strong outdoor light shines on the side of the face, feeling warm.
Fujiwara Reya looks out from the window of the side hall. The sea breeze hits the waves against the cliffs, splashing white foam. The funeral procession advances along the breakwater, heading toward the crematorium at the end of the cape.
"How many people died last night?" he asks.
"Two," Kasahara Fumi replies, "both monks from the temple, no ordinary citizens."
Fujiwara Reya turns his head to look at her.
The fierce sumr light falls between them through the window. On Kasahara Fumi’s indifferent face shines a bright gloss, her long eyelashes blazing with golden light, and the hot air exhaled from her nostrils spreads out.
After thinking for a bit, he decides not to say anything.
Kasahara Fumi also says nothing, expressing a hint of apology with her eyes.
The refurbished ancient temple in the lush mountain forest is enveloped in the sound of cicadas, and in the main hall, the chants of monks reciting disaster-elimination mantras echo intermittently. Clouds of a solemn posture float above the ridges, seemingly gazing down at this ancient and dilapidated temple, as though the spirits of the deceased reflect in the corner of the chanting monks’ eyes.
As he retracts his gaze, Fujiwara Reya notices a group of girls from the Capital City are staring at him.
So are curious, so carry hostility, while a few have slightly admiring looks... Each dressed in casual clothes, exuding youthful and lively energy, their appearance fresh and vibrant.
As expected of the world’s greatest Great Shrine, able to support so many beautiful shrine maidens. My Asakusa Shrine should have that many in the future too... Fujiwara Reya’s gaze sweeps over the girls with diverse expressions, finally nodding politely to the leader.
Compared to the other girls’ innocence, the leading girl stands out distinctly. She has a cold high nose, a playful lip, wearing a short skirt and shirt, both her attire and appearance strikingly refined, with a tiny chin and tightly shut lips emphasizing her girlish charm.
"Hello, Master Fujisawa."
Upon hearing his voice, a few shrine maidens who were secretly glancing at him quickly blush and avert their gaze.
"Kanto people, stop trying to be close!" Fujishima Kanami scolds with a stern face, also looking away towards the entrance.
The waiting ti is hard to endure. Perhaps due to sweating from the heat, she feels a bit itchy on her leg, so she slightly raises her foot to rest on the chair leg, pinches the edge of her white thigh-high sock, and pulls it down a bit, scratching a few tis.
At the spot where the sock’s elastic squeezed, a few tender red marks appear on her fair skin.
Fujishima Kanami gently scratches the marks on her thigh, thinking: I hope this ti there’s no trouble and we can conclude quickly to return to the Capital City soon...
Beside her, Fujiwara Reya is also contemplating.
White stockings pressing into flesh, goji berries can’t help.
Later, I definitely have to make Asuka wear tighter over-the-knee white stockings, let as her senior properly check her body.
A few minutes before twelve noon, two n in Onmyo-ryo uniforms walk into the hall. One is in his forties, the other is a young man. The older one is quite tall, with a scar on his nose. The younger one is shorter, with slightly longer hair, narrow eyes, a sharp gaze, like a scholar from the past.
"From the Minami-Izu Ma Onmyoryo Branch," the older one says, taking out identification from his pocket and showing it to everyone in turn.
"We apologize for interrupting your work," Fujiwara Reya politely says.
The older man puts the identification back into his pocket, eying Fujiwara Reya up and down, as if confirming his identity.
Then, he bends down, bowing respectfully: "Hello, Director Fujiwara."
The young man also bends down in turn.
"Are you here for an investigation?" Fujiwara Reya asks.
"We want to gather so information from these girls from the Capital City," the elder says, "Sorry, we didn’t know you were here, Director. We’ll leave now and co back later."
"No problem, just continue with your work," Fujiwara Reya turns to the entrance, "I won’t disturb you, just report the situation to later."
After he leaves, the two approach the girls from the Capital City, beginning to inquire about the details of the case.
Exiting the side hall, Fujiwara Reya looks up; the sumr sky is bright and clear, extending like a vast blue sea beyond the mountains. In the small courtyard at the entrance stands an old Bodhi Tree, its solemn branches and lush leaves gleaming bronze in the sunlight. All around, the ancient buildings join together without pattern, mostly outdated wooden structures, corridors of worn wooden floors connecting the small buildings.
Fujiwara Reya crosses the corridor, stepping into the courtyard.
Besides the Bodhi Tree, there’s a small wooden frad greenhouse in the yard. The paint on the fra has peeled off, bristling like curled bellflowers. Nearby is a two or three-tier bonsai stand, planted with hyacinths, the ground overgrown with clover, the little path in the lawn tastefully dotted with so stones.
The soft leaves of the clover absorb the sunlight, scattering tiny shadows all over, carrying a pleasant fragrance. Fujiwara Reya arrives under the Bodhi Tree, finding a flat spot to lie down and nap.
On the Bodhi Tree, cicadas densely gather. As the young man lays down, naturally, the Mountain God’s aura spreads.
The sumr cicadas, which were initially chirping, imdiately fall silent, bringing a calmness to the entire courtyard.
After a while, Kasahara Fumi also cos out.
In the courtyard before the railing, the sumr grass is lush, the boy in a white shirt lies across the lawn. She hesitates about whether to approach. She doesn’t know when, but his articulate speech, his lively talk, started to make her uneasy.
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