Chapter 20: Works Like a Charm
The mountain trees had turned red and yellow, completely
changing into their autumn clothes, while the Kusunoki estate's garden remained
stuck in spring as usual. A pleasant breeze that completely ignored the seasons
swayed the green leaves of the camphor tree.
After working overtime for job after job, the exhausted wind
chime was finally taken down from under the eaves. Minato thought the red
goldfish painted on the glass looked tired too, so he carefully polished it and
put it away in its box.
Now it was sleeping deep in the walk-in closet. It would
probably have to work hard again next year. Time for a well-deserved rest.
Instead, the quiet garden was filled with the sound of
something hard being ground scritch, scritch. It was the sound of Minato
working hard to grind ink.
The mountain god, lying on his custom-made giant cushion,
yawned big at the relaxing sound.
"Takes quite a while, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, but it seems really effective."
Most importantly, he wasn't using ordinary tap water he was
using sacred water.
Minato had been experimenting over and over, trying to make
his protective charms even more powerful. After trying several different pens,
he'd found that brush pens were the easiest to channel purification power
through.
Just when he thought he'd settled on that, Harima gave him a
high-end calligraphy set. Ten brushes that even an amateur could tell were
classy. Plus a seriously intimidating ink stone that felt heavy and pressuring
just to look at.
It was all way too fancy for a beginner.
It seemed like a waste not to use it, but it would be an
even bigger waste to leave it unused. He looked up how to do it online, and
even though his technique was shaky at first, he was already getting the hang
of it. He was pretty good with his hands.
"The ink smells really nice."
He added a bit of sacred water from a small ceramic dropper
to the thick ink, then kept grinding.
"This is actually pretty relaxing. Maybe I should try
copying sutras too."
"That might be good. Especially if you use that
paper."
The mountain god looked toward a stack of traditional paper
at the edge of the low table. From large sheets to business card size all
different thicknesses of handmade paper, also from Harima, of course.
When Harima had visited a few days ago and pulled the paper
from his bag, the mountain god had snorted. Apparently it was made from
mulberry bark taken from the mountain god's own mountain.
Being able to tell at a glance that it came from his
mountain wasn't his nose a little too good? Minato was impressed but also a bit
freaked out.
Harima had seemed pretty nervous, but the mountain god
didn't get angry. He just handed over the paper and quickly left. As usual, he
never stayed long.
Anyway, if Harima wanted something even more effective, then
Minato would put even more effort into it.
Thinking it was about ready, he dipped the fresh brush into
the black ink and touched the tip to the brilliant white paper.
"Oh, it doesn't bleed. Totally different from cheap
brush pens."
The sharp, clear black ink stood out beautifully against the
white paper. He wasn't used to handling the soft brush yet it was different
from the stiff pens but as he flowed through writing the characters, it was
easier to channel purification power and his expression brightened.
After finishing several pieces, he held up the first and
last ones toward the mountain god.
"How are they?"
"Good. The right one is much better. You managed to put
power into it evenly from start to finish."
"I see, thanks."
The mountain god didn't give detailed advice, but he could
see how well the charms turned out something Minato couldn't check himself.
Even though Minato was getting better at channeling purification power, he
couldn't confirm the final quality of his protective charms.
His spiritual sight was hopeless. The mountain god had
declared that even training wouldn't help much, so he'd given up on that.
Minato wasn't trying to become an onmyoji anyway. He just
wanted to improve the precision of his abilities.
They say even a master calligrapher doesn't choose his
brush, but good brushes really do write differently. He decided to try another
brush this one had white animal fur.
The martens had made complicated faces when they realized it
was made from weasel fur.
"This is nice. Easy to write with."
The mountain god glanced at the satisfied Minato with
amusement. It was probably lucky that the martens weren't here today to hear
that.
"Are those guys doing well?"
"More energetic than ever."
The familiars were currently training. Apparently they'd
been really frustrated by how they could only cower in fear when they
encountered that mass of corruption before, so they'd volunteered to train to
build up their resistance to impurity.
The mountain god wouldn't tell him what their training
involved, but every time they came to visit, they seemed more reliable. He
could feel their growth.
The mountain god was connected to them. Even though he spent
his days lounging around the Kusunoki estate, he'd started suddenly roaring
encouragement:
"Too slow!"
"You're getting better!"
"But still not enough!" and so on.
He'd always talked to himself, but lately it was especially
frequent. But it didn't disturb Minato—it actually helped his concentration.
The beautiful cone-shaped brush tip flowed smoothly and
lightly, spinning out characters filled with special power.
"Look at this."
The characters written on postcard-sized traditional paper
read "Mountain God" and "Turtle." Seeing the protective
charm glowing with flickering jade-green light, the mountain god nodded
gravely.
"Good, very good."
"Better than the earlier ones?"
"Yes, this one will last much longer than those. But I
should mention his name is Sacred Turtle."
"Oh really? I didn't know he had such an impressive
name."
"He is a spiritually powerful, mystical beast."
"I can tell."
The incredible luck with alcohol had continued since then he
couldn't help but notice.
Whenever he went shopping, he'd get free sake from various
stores, and every time he went to a liquor shop, he could buy rare,
hard-to-find alcohol. It had become normal.
The Sacred Turtle's shameless attraction of alcohol was
bottomless and kind of scary.
The mountain god lifted his massive body from where he'd
been lying and settled at one corner of the low table.
"Come, bring me that paper with my name on it."
Minato moved it over along with the felt mat. The mountain
god asked for the ink stone too, so he brought that forward. Without
hesitation, the mountain god pressed his paw pad down and stamped it on the
lower left of the paper. A vivid paw print appeared in black ink.
The mountain god looked smug. The paper was fine, but the
ink on his white fur would be hard to get off. But when Minato looked at the
dirty paw pad, the black color disappeared instantly.
"Well, you are a god after all. So what does this
mean?"
The mountain god turned his back and lay down on the
cushion, saying, "I put in a prayer for safe travels." He rested his
chin on the supremely comfortable, densely stuffed cushion and narrowed both
eyes contentedly.
"So you won't get lost anywhere."
Not knowing the hidden meaning behind those words, Minato
innocently pressed his hands together toward the paper, saying "How
grateful." While the mountain god purred with amusement and chuckled low,
the Sacred Turtle crawled up onto the veranda.
Hearing the sound, Minato turned his head.
"Turtle, or should I call you Sacred Turtle?"
From the way he shook his head left and right, it seemed the
usual name was fine. When Minato asked what he wanted, the mountain god
prompted, "Same as me."
When Minato placed the paper with "turtle" written
on it and the ink stone on the floor, the Sacred Turtle also stamped it. He
pressed down powerfully, slightly wrinkling the paper.
Minato couldn't sense anything special about it, but he
could tell it was filled with tremendous power.
"Does this improve luck with alcohol?"
"Financial luck."
"Oh, amazing."
Ignoring the mysteriously chuckling gods, Minato just felt
happy and added small notes next to their stamps: "Lost prevention. Take
me on trips too" and "Money luck up up ↑↑"
It was undeniably a bit silly.
A few days later, when he gave them to Harima, the man was
struck speechless and nearly lost his soul.
"Harima... hello, Harima..."
He kept calling the name of the man who wouldn't take the
bundle of protective charms he was offering. Harima was frozen with his eyes
wide open.
After a while, he snapped back to his senses and reverently
accepted them with trembling hands. But he looked terrified of what he was
holding, and his complexion wasn't good.
Seeing this extraordinary reaction, Minato finally realized
he'd created some seriously powerful protective charms.
Though he figured it was just because the mountain god's and
turtle's power was amazing he didn't count his own abilities.
Speaking of that great god, he had his tail spinning and his
face fixed directly above the package of sweets on the table. He wouldn't move.
He was radiating divine energy with the firm will that he absolutely would not
budge from this spot.
"Tell him to do whatever he wants."
Because the mountain god couldn't eat until Harima left.
"Um, please do whatever you like with them, Harima. Use
them, sell them, display them at home, whatever."
"I'll gratefully do so."
The onmyoji spoke as if squeezing out the words and bowed
deeply with beautiful form.
Ching.
A familiar sound came from inside his trench coat. Harima
pushed up his glasses and pulled his phone from his jacket's breast pocket,
just glancing at the display. Minato asked curiously.
"Isn't that out of season now?"
"Well, yes. But I've grown fond of this tone."
For a moment, his face showed an unfathomable smile softer
than before. While Minato accepted this innocently, the mountain god snorted
with amusement.
Minato stopped while crossing the arched bridge over the
sacred pond. He was staring at something in the sacred water.
He'd noticed something strange. On the right side of the
arched bridge, there were lots of water plants swaying beyond the sunlight
reflecting on the surface, but on the left side, there wasn't a single water
plant.
Under the bridge, the Sacred Turtle was swimming busily back
and forth with water plants trailing from his mouth.
"Moving? Or redecorating?"
Compared to the lonely left side with just pebbles, the
right side was quite lively. Not only were various water plants growing densely
without gaps, but there was also a particularly eye-catching small gate in the
back.
It was a dragon palace-style gate in vivid red and white
with a seven-colored sparkling jewel on top.
Maybe beyond it was connected to some palace. Maybe if you
went through there, you'd be greeted by tai and flounder, the dancing
specialists.
It was incredibly intriguing, but he deliberately didn't ask
about it.
Curiosity killed the cat.
He didn't want to ruin himself with unnecessary curiosity.
There are many things in the world that you're happier not knowing. The sacred
pond was essentially the Sacred Turtle's domain, and if he wanted to arrange it
to be more comfortable, that was his business.
"Probably just a change of mood. Everyone feels like
that sometimes, right."
Still carrying his unanswered questions, he headed back to
the house.
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