Hashiba realized that the numbers were shifting according to a rule — on a compass dial, they would be swinging from north to west, to south — counterclockwise. Furthermore, it seemed to be gaining speed.
“It’s certainly never done this before …”
Of course not. A compass pointed north no matter where you were; it never spun counterclockwise like that.
As the phasing continued to accelerate, Hashiba cried, “There’s something up with the geomagnetic field?”
There seemed no question that the area was experiencing an intense magnetic disturbance. Hashiba wondered if it was something left over from whatever event that spirited away the missing people. Or was it a sign of something else, something yet to occur, another shift towards the abnormal? He looked over to where Saeko stood — trying to catch her eye, perhaps hoping that she would have the answer. At the very least they now knew that there was some sort of connection between the disappearances and a concurrent flux in magnetic fields. Saeko didn’t notice Hashiba’s stare; her eyes were distant, focused out towards the horizon.
“Anyway, let’s get out of here,” Hosokawa nudged, clearly wanting to get away from the shrine as soon as possible.
Hashiba felt exactly the same. “Agreed. Back to the hotel.”
Hashiba was ready to carry Shigeko on his back if he had to, but after she’d stood back up, she seemed able to walk. He stayed at her side and helped her down the stone steps.
As they reached the base they were greeted by Sodeyama, who was out of breath, having just run up the path. He looked terrified.
“What happened?” Hashiba asked.
Sodeyama stooped forwards still gasping for breath, hands on his knees. Eventually, he straightened up, returning Hashiba’s question with one of his own.
“I saw some sort of cloud appear above the shrine. What the hell was that?”
“Gulls. A load of gulls flying away — all at once.”
Sodeyama shook his head in disbelief. “Gulls? Up here?”
“Have you had that here before?”
Sodeyama paused. “It looks like the whole system’s gone mad.”
“The system?” Hashiba wasn’t sure what Sodeyama meant.
“The whole eco-system. Not just plants, but insects, birds. It’s gone haywire …”
It’s not just the eco-system, Hashiba thought. Something’s affecting the local magnetic field too … But he didn’t give utterance to the thought. If he didn’t understand the mechanism of what was happening, there was no point in confusing the situation any further.
Saeko continued to stare eastwards where the huge flock of gulls had flown. She felt chilled to the core, and shivers ran down her spine and stimulated her bladder. She’d been wanting to urinate, and she didn’t think she could hold it anymore. Turning away from the sky, she scanned the area under the Soga Shrine for a toilet. It was then that Saeko noticed.
Night fell quickly at this time of year, and its shadow darkly stretched in the dense growth surrounding the hollow of the garden path. Beyond, Hatsushima Island floated in the sea, but the color of the water was reddish.
Slightly above the pale green hue of the inverted curvature of the valley, an orangey-red sheaf of light hovered lazily. She was looking eastwards; it couldn’t be from the sunset. A light that seemed more ethereal, more beautiful than any sunset she had seen before described a meandering arc as it rose upwards into the sky, there depositing subtly varying layers of red.
During her childhood here in Atami, Saeko had often stood looking out to sea from the hills. But she had never seen anything even remotely like this. It looked almost divine, a heavenly light, bewitching. At the same time, it seemed that every cell in Saeko’s body was ringing out in alarm, as though she wouldn’t be able to get away if she gave in to the spell.
Hashiba came to her side, followed her gaze, and noticed the odd scenery.
“It looks like the aurora,” Saeko said quietly.
Hashiba himself had never seen an aurora. “I didn’t know you could see one in Atami,” he remarked casually.
“You can’t. At the very least, I’ve never heard of such a thing. You’re only supposed to be able to see them close to the poles, from places with high latitude.”
Perhaps because of the beauty of the spectacle, Saeko didn’t feel the terror that such an anomaly should have brought about. Something about the world, at its center, was changing.
Saeko recalled what her father had once said: The world has to be described more beautifully.
She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t afraid thanks to his words, but the relentless pressure on her bladder kept bringing her back to the present.
Shigeko alone seemed to grasp the true consequences of what they saw. With a resigned look, she muttered, “It’s too much. This is beyond me.”
Saeko felt that she understood. If what was at work here transcended human artifice, then no matter what an individual may attempt, it was already too late.
Saeko and the rest of the crew checked into the hotel as soon as they left the herb gardens.
You could see the waves right below you. The hotel directly overlooked the sea into which its foundations stretched and stood as high as the sheer cliffs of Nishikigaura; only the front lobby was adjacent to land, and the guest rooms practically hovered above water. The place was well known for the stunning view of the cliffs looming across the window. The grandeur and scale of the rocky face did more to shatter any sense of the everyday than the white, crashing waves below.
Though it was no longer the case, the area used to have the unfortunate reputation of being one of Japan’s worst suicide spots. Looking across at them at night, Saeko could see why that might have been. The jagged outline of the cliffs seemed to be built for that purpose, as though they invited death.
She stood next to the opened window in her room, letting in the cool night air. After checking in she had gone to soak in the hotel’s hot spring baths but had turned the heating too high in her room. Finally, the temperature was becoming comfortable again. Saeko stood for a while, allowing the air to cool her skin.
She had the room to herself. The male crew were all sharing rooms to save on expenses but had booked separate twin western-style rooms for herself and Shigeko. The digital clock on the bedside desk indicated that it was almost eleven o’clock. Saeko usually kept a late routine — it was still too early for bed. However, the events of the last couple of days had left her exhausted and she felt ready to fall asleep the moment she lay down. She saw the other, empty bed, and lamented the fact that she would be sleeping alone tonight. Thinking how great it would be if Hashiba was with her now, she let out a deep sigh.
After the post-dinner meeting Hashiba had suddenly announced that he had to go back to Tokyo. Until that moment Saeko had been certain that they would be spending the night together. The revelation had disappointed her immensely. As Hashiba had mumbled something about urgent work coming up, he had averted his eyes. She’d wanted to question him but refrained because of the rest of the crew. She’d ended up standing there helplessly watching him get a cab from the hotel for some spurious reason.
If he’d stayed in the hotel it would have been easy for him to sneak across to her room at night. Hashiba would be on the Tokaido bullet train now, probably already coming up to Yokohama. That was if he’d been able to make the last kodama train bound for Tokyo. It was unlikely that the ever-competent Hashiba would have missed it, but the taxi had been summoned to the hotel with very little time to spare so it wasn’t impossible. Saeko found herself hoping that he had missed the train; then he might come back to the hotel after all.