isn’t ordinary hypnotism,” he remarked.
“What is it, then?”
“Everyone thinks he remembers what happened yesterday, but most people won’t be able to remember what they did every minute. They just have a vague sense of what they’ve done, right?”
She mulled it over. You could forget something instantly. She certainly had, many times. Especially when it came to math. “I guess you’re right,” she said.
“The brain’s memory center has two functions: remembering and forgetting. By tapping into the forgetfulness area, I can erase your memory. It just takes practice.”
“But it seems so… so specific. How can you tap into that part?”
“I learned this trick from my grandfather, Jinzaemon. It helps a warrior subdue guards to break through to enemy territory.”
This was the second time he’d used that word—warrior. Her mother had said he was a soba farmer, living off the land in the mountains. He himself had said he was a hunter. Jet definitely had her doubts.
“Did you say warrior? Are you a warrior?” she asked.
He looked down. “No, but there are always battles to fight.”
“You mean the people from the dump?” she asked.
A sharp wind blew against the walls of the house. “Yes, that’s right. You see, they used to come here a lot, trying to dump waste from Tokyo on our mountain, but we refused. So they hired some yakuza—mafia gangs—to harass us. Sorry for them, we fought back. Those people are very persistent. But so are we!” He laughed heartily.
Jet didn’t see the humor. The thought of the mountain being used as a dump made her angry. “This mountain is too beautiful to ruin like that.”
“It most certainly is,” he agreed as he set food on the table. “But the truth is, there are always threats to mountain people like us. That’s precisely why I taught Hiro taijutsu, and why your mother taught it to you—to protect yourself.”
Jet nodded, but her head was spinning. Did the yakuza have something to do with her mother’s warning? Was the mountain really in peril? The problems that had plagued her in high school no longer seemed so serious. She had to know more.
“Did the yakuza come to Kanabe too? Did they come to your house?” Jet leaned toward her grandfather.
“No,” he said and his eyes shone with a fierceness that she hadn’t seen before. “The yakuza are not the problem. The problem is the Wa.”
Jet frowned. “Mom used to talk about the Wa, but I thought they lived a long time ago. Are they still around?”
“The Wa haven’t been around for a while, but now that you’re here, I’m afraid they’ll be back again,” he conceded.
“Really? Are they the people after me?” she asked, fear prickling her skin again.
“It’s complicated,” Ojiisan said gravely. “We were hoping you’d know. That’s why I taught Hiro English. And why I learned a bit, too.”
Jet sighed. “But I don’t know a thing.” She was about to ask if the Wa had anything to do with the treasure when Hiro burst into the room, Aska at his side.
“Hey, Rika. What’s the plan for today?” he asked.
Ojiisan turned to Jet. “There’s something we need to do, isn’t there?”
“There is one thing…” Jet said softly. “Mom wanted me to go to Osore-zan.”
Hiro’s excitement grew. “We’re in luck! It’s a special time on the mountain, with the fall spirit festival going on.”
“What’s the fall spirit festival?” Jet asked.
“After death, everyone goes to the mountain. In old times, the Ainu communed with the spirits of the dead there. We carry on the tradition,” Hiro replied.
“In summer and fall, the itako—blind female shamans—gather there. We talk to our ancestors through these kuchiyose… spirit mediums,” Ojiisan explained.
“Can I talk to my mother?” Jet asked.
“Her spirit needs forty-nine days to cross over to the other side. I’m afraid it’s too early,” Ojiisan said.
Jet just nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.
Wait!” Hiro said brightly, “we can tell my mom and the others that Aunt Satoko is coming.”
“Your mom? How… I mean, when?” Jet swallowed, ashamed. She’d been so focused on herself that she hadn’t asked Hiro anything. How long had he lived with Ojiisan? How had his mother passed away? And where was his father?
“If we leave now, we can get there by noon. My mom’s waiting!” Hiro exclaimed.
“It’s settled then,” Ojiisan told them. “Today we’ll go to the mountain!”
Jet’s mouth hung open. She couldn’t believe how quickly they’d decided to go—too quickly. Suspicion rose in her gut. She wondered if they’d already planned it.
Hiro was smiling, but Ojiisan’s expression was serious.
“It will be cold,” he said, “So we’d better wear layers. And we’ll have to take a few trains and buses. We might even have to sleep outdoors for a night or two. Let’s prepare for any eventuality.”
“Right,” Hiro said, springing into action.
An ominous feeling fell over the home as they prepared for the trip. Jet wondered what Ojiisan knew. Then she wondered how much longer she’d have to wait before she knew it, too.
She hoped she’d learn more on the mountain.
She had the feeling there wasn’t much time left.
CHAPTER 8
運命 Un-Mei
Destiny
The train sped alongside the ocean, passing old fishing villages, their harbors scattered with abandoned boats turned red with rust. Jet looked out the window. Batches of seaweed hung to dry from nets, withering in the sun. Aside from a few ramshackle dive shops sprinkled along the coast, it was desolate all the way to Tanabu, where Jet, Hiro, and Ojiisan got off with a crowd of pilgrims to catch a bus to Osore-zan, packs slung over their shoulders.
The rickety bus creaked as it wound its way up the steep slope into the forest. A cool breeze wafted through the open window. The fragrance of the forest was much stronger than on the mountain path to Kanabe. Jet sniffed the air from the bus window.
“The smell is Hiba.” Ojiisan pointed to big trees shooting up to the sky.
“The wood our dinner trays were made from,” Hiro added. “Remember?”
Jet
