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Incense filled the air, rising from chips of agarwood ember. The room was lit with warm lotus-shaped lights and the twinkle of gemstone carvings. Jade, quartz, lapis lazuli. In the eyes of a raven, they were all treasures.
– Now, let’s chant.
“Nam mô A Di Đà Phật, Nam mô A Di Đà Phật…”
If you didn’t know the language, you might have mistaken it for a witch communion. Our chants got more and more aggressive, faster and louder, not unlike a summoning spell.
– The more earnest your belief, the more They will respond!
A jet-black hair with a strange, bulbous root spun, and spun, and spun. Slowly, but it can’t be natural, right? It’s like magnetization, or rather, adversity – as it pointed towards her, then away. Like a sentient dowsing rod.
“How much did you pay for this? And how much did we pay you?”
Those questions hadn’t crossed Kyoko’s mind yet. She was just trying to GET an achievement: Proof that her piety is no joke.
But she couldn’t shake off the feeling. That sharp bend, that thickness… it looked embarrassingly like a pube.
– Now, say thank you to Them.
As usual, every Thursday afternoon, Kyoko kneeled in front of the underlit statues, and bowed, her head touching the floor piously.
– Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
It had to be said thrice. Three is an odd number, which symbolizes growth, unlike even numbers that represent completion and stagnation.
But in this case, the first prayer is for Buddha, the second for Dharma, and the third for Sangha.
The woman was kind but stern with her rituals. She’s younger than Kyoko’s mother, but as a shaman, she got to order us around. Not like Mama-chan followed her every word, but whenever she was around, Mama tried her best to appease her and her gods.
“Gods? How do you see them?”
By looking at their statues, of course.
Gods and Buddha alike all display their grandiosity through the finest of arts. Despite their differences in lore, somehow, people worship them all under the same belief. Apparently, no one should be left behind.
“Then, how do you hear them?”
Through a shaman, of course!
We had to pay a visit to the shaman’s house every week, ever since we pleaded for her help.
“S a v e m e”
Yes, we wrote her an email which sounded something like that.
We were in disarray.
No coin toss was in our favor, how unusual. And when we spun the blessed moissanite ring round and round… nothing changed for the better. We cried ourselves to sleep.
But that was the mostly-normal days. Before we moved.
We went crazy one week after we had moved to a new room designated for emergencies only.
There was talking.
Something, something, Clarissa.
Clarissa, something, something.
And “I” conversed.
– Welcome to my humble abode. My mind!
It was fun. But little did we know, it was self-torture.
This is why I love Kyon so bad.
She tried her best to hide us all from the “mind readers”. She persevered for hours. She didn’t need to.
Why, huh? Maybe anxiety. The “stage fright” of being heard.
We are the skeletons in our own closet.
(But then again, we wanted to be heard. Just in a different way.)
Not in the demeaning, lunaticized way.
All the lights were gone. We heard not just backtalk, but mad screaming from the common kitchen.
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, CLARISSA!”
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, CLARISSA!”
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, CLARISSA!”
It was such a familiar voice, but one that has never been heard. One calm voice, exaggerated and blended with another’s roar.
“Calm down, ******!”
And Clarissa felt the need to respond. Unheard, in our room, of course.
– Yeah. It’s 2am already. Give us a break.
We couldn’t sleep, not a wink. We had exhausted ourselves. ‘Twas the vicious cycle of delusions.
Now for Kyon’s favorite part: the head massage.
– Ah, I see… she is feeling more at ease.
Why the hell not? It’s the best head massage ever.
– Those personalities are subsiding. She’s calm and composed.
Surely not. That was Lav enjoying the massage!
– Brrrrr… *ニコニコ*
Kyon harmonized.
– Brrrr… right?~
That’s something no one was supposed to know.
After all, wasn’t the main lesson after the psychosis to “not believe in mind readers”?
To be fair, the shaman wasn’t “mind reading”, she was “sensing the yin and yang energies”. Totally different.
But the world collapsed into a puddle when They told the shaman something:
– The Medic Buddha told [Clarissa] to visit the beach before she heads back, since that’s her favorite place.
“Mhm, true.”
– She would write the names of all of her friends on square pieces of paper, fold them into cranes, and send them out to the sea.
Crack.
– No… please… Isn’t there another way???
– No. You can’t choose in-between. Either you let go of them, or you discontinue your studies.
– But— PLEASE! I love her!! I love my kids, too! SO much! I beg you!
Tears formed a waterfall on Kyoko’s cheeks, lips, and down her clothes, too.
– Hey, listen. Listen.
The shaman closed in, held Kyoko’s hands, and gently said:
– They’re not gonna die! They’ll just— go on a new journey, and they will live happily.
– But… will they come back?
Silence befalls them.
…
…
Her mom and the shaman lady still believe in Them to this day.
– In a way… is that called “believing in yourselves”?
She persevered, even the next morning. She was the boss. The king of her land, her beloved flower-studded 花美郷.
The duty to protect me and the kids weighed heavy on her chest.
But in her waking nightmare, she lost all control. She cried, her insides spewing out. Powerless she was against the psychic/mind reader, with her crystal ball that even the omnipotent Kyoko could not break. All because she couldn’t find out where that goddamn “Sara” was. They were so close, and yet…
If only it was a dream. Then she would have woken up. But no, the nightmare insisted on being real.
She hurt us all, in her imagination. She was a walking calamity to herself. Things began to get weird. Adult, immoral, unleashed.
Everything was there before, it’s just…
– I’ve never managed to resolve it.
And now I must face my own cultivated darkness.
– Is it my fears? Or is it my desires?
She couldn’t tell us apart from the hallucination.
She said the same thing to herself as to her own “enemies”.
They say you wouldn’t wish the worst thing on your enemies. But she did, the most imaginable.
I was there, too. But she shielded me from her lunacy.
– This thorn is mine, and mine alone. Please take the kids far away.
She whimpered in those sleepless nights. Yes, even after that tearful beginning.
But on the other hand, she told her parents about us. Honestly, it wasn’t met with due seriousness. And I doubt they’ll ever believe in us.
*sigh*
Those days, sometimes she would sit next to the window, looking out like a classic princess. (Not my wide-eyed bird.)
But she was actually an antenna catching the frequencies of self-discussion from another country.
Yeah. We were THAT crazy. Until…
The truth is,
no way it was just one day.
Kyoko sits at the dining table. Across her plate, same as the past few days, is a half-eaten zelten. But this one is different… It doesn’t crumble in your hands. It’s cheaper than last year, but reliable, and still studded with slices of almond.
– Cake and candles, not found. Will you make a wish to the gods today? Or the moon?
Kyon turns to me, blankly:
– Hell naw!
She’s telling the truth, despite my teasing. Never change…