This is a story I heard from Shisho. It was the summer of my second year in university.
For a while, my occult mentor, a woman named Kanako whom I called Shisho, often stared blankly up at the sky. She would ride on the back wheel of my bicycle, acting like a lordly aristocrat as she ordered me this way and that, only to suddenly fall silent. When I glanced back cautiously over my shoulder, I would find her lifting her chin and gazing intently at the heavens.
"Is there something interesting up there?" I would ask. "…Yeah," she would reply, but she was miles away.
I stopped my bicycle too and looked up, but it was just a nice day with a few ordinary clouds floating by. One of the clouds looked like a doughnut, which suddenly made me hungry. When I asked, "Shall we go to Mister Donut?", she gave me the same distant, "…Yeah."
When I took her there, she ate three doughnuts, but she still seemed somehow off.
This went on for a while. Though I thought it was strange, I didn't think too much of it until one day, Shisho announced, "I'll introduce you to someone interesting."
Shisho had acquaintances among all sorts of weird people, and I couldn't grasp the full scope of her social circle. A few of them were normal—like university professors, detectives, or wealthy people—but most of them fell into the category of eccentrics. Of course, since there were also eccentric university professors and weird wealthy people, they were simply a diverse lot.
The person she introduced me to that day was easily top-tier among them. After all, he wore the garb of a Shugendo ascetic in his private life—despite not actually being an ascetic. On top of that, he had let his beard grow wild on his cheeks and chin for what must have been decades, and his sunburned face was deeply etched with countless wrinkles. He was the type of person who definitely wouldn't be allowed into a restaurant.
Anyway, that day, Shisho led me up a mountain. It was a relatively nearby mountain of moderate height, from whose summit you could get a panoramic view of the city. Normally, it would make a great hiking course for citizens, but part of the way up the path was treacherous, which seemed to be why it wasn't very popular.
Just as we were nearing the summit, Shisho suddenly turned onto a branch path. Right beside it stood a weathered, rotting sign that read: "Private Property From This Point On."
Expecting to find some tree planting since it was private property, I found instead that cedars and cypresses barely grew there, leaving only thickets of bamboo and unknown shrubs. When a hut-like structure came into view at the end of the path, I thought, *No way,* but Shisho walked right up to it and called out, "Sensei, are you in?"
I was dumbfounded to think someone lived in a place like this. Did they have to climb up and down this mountain every time they wanted to buy daily necessities? Just imagining that life made it certain the person wasn't normal. Then again, maybe it was a vacation home. Though I couldn't fathom why anyone would want a dilapidated mountain cabin like this as a vacation home.
"I've come, Sensei!" Shisho called out loudly, but there was no reply. A drum-type lock was fastened to the front door.
Shisho walked around the cabin to check on the inside, but apparently deciding no one was home, she started back the way we came. I thought we were heading down, but when we returned to the branch path, she started climbing toward the summit again.
After walking a little further, we came to a clearing in the brush with a very good view. The summit was still a bit further ahead, but we could already see the city panorama below. On the edge of a sheer cliff sat a large, flat rock, and upon it sat a figure wearing dingy, whitish clothes.
"Sensei, I knew you'd be here." Shisho approached with a familiar tone.
I followed right behind her and saw up close that the figure was indeed the aforementioned ascetic-looking old man. *Ah, so it's not a vacation home—someone actually lives here,* I thought the moment I saw him.
"What, it's just Wata-gumo," the old man turned toward us sluggishly with sunken eyes.
He wore a top called a suzukake, hakama trousers, and kyahan gaiters on his lower legs. If he were holding a horagai conch shell, he would look completely like a Yamabushi ascetic, but unfortunately, the only thing in his hand was a glass of sake.
"You really are an unlovable disciple." With that, he mumbled with his mouth hidden deep behind his beard. "Did you bring anything?" "Yes." Shisho gave me a sharp nod with her chin.
Panicking, I unshouldered my backpack and pulled out the bottle of Iichiko shochu I had just bought—the large, economical paper carton version, no less.
He snatched it right out of my trembling hands as if he were grabbing it away, opened the cap, and started drinking straight from the carton.
Straight? What is this guy doing in the middle of the day? As I watched in dumbfounded amazement, the old man gave me a heavy, damp stare. "Who's this?" "My disciple. Your grand-disciple, Sensei." "Hoh."
The old man downed some Iichiko, didn't even bother to wipe the liquid dripping into his beard, and glared at me. "In that case, I must show him." "I'd appreciate that."
*Grand-disciple?* I panicked inwardly, but the old man let out a breath smelling of alcohol, hoisted his heavy body up, set down the Iichiko carton, and turned to face me. "Your name?" "He doesn't have one yet. Please give him one, Sensei," Shisho said. Groaning with a "Hmm," the old man stroked his beard and bestowed upon me the name "Ribs." I had no idea what was going on.
"All right. Watch very carefully." Standing atop the flat rock, the old man pointed a finger at a single point in the sky. *A cloud?* At the tip of his finger was a tiny scrap of cloud. Then, right before our eyes, the old man thrust both hands out toward the sky. He began repeatedly thrusting and pulling back his hands, as if trying to unleash some invisible force. His palms were open, and his eyes glared menacingly at the cloud from below.
"Hmph! Hrr-mph!" A fierce battle cry echoed from beneath his beard.
*Ah, I see,* I thought. It was a sight I had seen somewhere before. The cloud toward which the old man was projecting his spirit or telekinesis began to shrink gradually. *A cloud-dissolving master?* I had seen people like that on TV. I never thought I'd get to see one in person. Even though I knew I shouldn't laugh, air naturally started puffing out from my throat and nose.
"Hrrrr-mph!" His hands trembled as if savoring the lingering aftereffects, and far off in the distance, the cloud vanished completely.
Unlike a TV show where you never know what kind of editing is involved, the cloud had genuinely vanished right before my eyes. My laughter didn't subside, but a genuine feeling of surprise was definitely there.
"As expected, Sensei," Shisho applauded. She climbed up onto the rock, lined up beside the old man, and rolled up her sleeves, saying, "Can I try too?" "Well, how about that one?" she said, pointing to a cloud similar to the previous one.
The old man looked alternately at the cloud and Shisho, and said, "You really are an unlovable disciple." But nodding with satisfaction, he pointed to a different cloud himself and thrust both hands forward with a "Hmph!"
Beside him, Shisho thrust her hands out toward her chosen target cloud. Watching them from the side, the two of them repeated movements that made you wonder what kind of ritual this was. Their expressions were dead serious, yet they somehow looked like they were having fun.
Hmph! Ha-yah! Hrr-mph! Take this! Hraaaargh! Moron! Take that! Idiot! What did you say, jerk? Barnacle brain! ... Their battle cries gradually grew more and more excited. In proportion to that excitement, the clouds grew thinner. And within five minutes, both of their targets had completely vanished from the sky.
"I am impressed," Shisho bowed her head. It was a close match, but the old man's cloud seemed to have vanished first.
"Not bad, Wata-gumo," the old man glanced at me, taking a swig of the Iichiko he had left at his feet. "Ribs, you do it too." "Like this."
Panting heavily, the old man targeted the next cloud and thrust both hands out into the sky again.
Shisho looked up at the sky with an amused expression and told me, "Go on, pick a cloud." Somehow feeling like I could do it too, I chose a cloud with sharp outlines that looked vaguely like a hamburger steak. "I'll try that one," I said, and poured my concentration into it.
Five minutes later, no matter how much concentration I sent, the cloud I chose didn't shrink at all—if anything, it had grown larger. Meanwhile, the old man's and Shisho's clouds had vanished without a trace once again.
"Totally useless," the old man said, and began correcting my posture. The placement of my feet, the shape of my hands, and my fierce glare... No matter how much I was taught, my cloud refused to budge. Shisho was snickering.
After a solid hour of such rigorous special training, I somehow succeeded in making a single cloud disappear. A strange sense of emotion washed over me, and my chest warmed. "Thank you very much." "Mm." After nodding repeatedly while stroking his hermit-like beard, the old man sat down and resumed drinking his Iichiko.
Then the three of us sat down together and gazed idly at the scenery visible from the mountaintop. Looking up, clouds of various shapes floated in the sky. Looking down, the chaotic landscape of the urban area spread far into the distance below. It was a strangely peaceful moment.
For about an hour, two grown adults had exhausted themselves trying desperately to make clouds disappear. It didn't cost any money, it hurt no one, and nobody gained anything from it.
Before long, the old man dozed off while sitting cross-legged. Glancing sideways at this figure who was the very epitome of eccentricity, I once again felt a deep sense of awe at the incomprehensible nature of Shisho's social circle.
Then Shisho stood up with a yawn. A moment later, the old man, who had been nodding off, raised his head. "Sensei, we're heading back." "Is that so?" the old man said, looking slightly disappointed. He ordered her to make sure she taught Ribs properly, and Shisho nodded that she understood. "Oh, and one more thing," Shisho said, straightening her posture and staring into the old man's face. She remained silent for a moment. "What is it?" the old man asked, losing his patience.
Shisho finally opened her mouth. "Sensei, you look at the sky more than anyone else in this city, don't you?" To that question, the old man nodded silently and broadly, as if to say it went without saying. "In that case—" Shisho continued in a light tone. No, she tried to adopt a light tone, but couldn't quite pull it off. For some reason, I sensed this, and my skin prickled with a sudden, unprovoked chill. "In that case, don't you think something's been wrong with the sky lately?"
The old man's expression changed. A frown furrowed his brow, and it was as if a fire had been lit deep within his eyes. "Don't say it, Wata-gumo." "For instance, that—" "Don't say it." The old man snapped in a sharp tone.
Shisho quietly lowered the hand she had been about to point toward the other side of the sky. The old man's body was trembling slightly. It wasn't because of the alcohol. I could distinctly feel the color of fear leaking from his body. "We'll come again," Shisho said slowly, giving me a signal to head back. However, my body was pierced by an unidentifiable dread.
Shisho's recently lowered fingertip flashed through my mind like an afterimage. Beyond it, a large cloud floated lazily in the sky. It looked shaped like a doughnut.
On the way back, Shisho explained the trick behind it. The secret to cloud-dissolving. "The only ones you can make disappear are cumulus clouds," she said. You have to choose ones that haven't fully developed and are on the verge of dying out. According to her explanation, cumulus clouds are the most common kind and form at relatively low altitudes. The altitude where water vapor in the atmosphere condenses and turns into clouds is called the condensation level. Driven by updrafts, water droplets that exceed that altitude sequentially become visible clouds. That's why it looks like clouds suddenly appear in an empty sky.
If the updrafts continue, the cumulus clouds grow upward as water vapor continuously crosses the condensation level, like tokoroten noodles being pushed out from below. If the growth continues, they turn into towering cumulus or cumulonimbus clouds, but most of the time, the growth stops when the supply of rising, high-humidity air is cut off, and eventually, the moisture dissolves into the surrounding dry air, causing the cumulus cloud to vanish.
This process from formation to disappearance is extremely short, and cumulus clouds can sometimes vanish in just a few minutes. "Once you find one that's about to vanish like that, it doesn't matter what pose you strike, it'll disappear on its own," Shisho laughed as she said this.
*What, so it really is a fake?* I recalled the old man's strict, direct instruction regarding posture and felt unsatisfied. "Well, he's just that kind of person. Cut him some slack." "Just what kind of person is he, anyway?"
Was he the kind of person who gathered people susceptible to new religions by claiming such cloud-dissolving was qigong training, imparting "secret techniques" while pocketing initiation fees? He was a thoroughly shady individual, but when a cloud actually vanished right before your eyes, it had a strange sense of persuasiveness. I thought such a scam wasn't entirely out of the question.
However, Shisho laughed and waved her hand in front of her face. "That old guy is a former motorcycle shop owner. He ran a pretty big business, and after retiring and handing the shop over to his son and daughter-in-law, he's been living an easy retirement, doing whatever he pleases."
Taking advantage of the ancestral land on that mountain which used to be forestry property, he had built a cabin there and lived a half-resident life, spending his days completely detached from the secular world. "Cloud-dissolving is just a hobby. A few years ago, a local TV station came to do a piece on him, and since they broadcasted him making clouds disappear, quite a few people who wanted to try it themselves came asking to become his apprentices. Since he taught them casually without taking any money, he seemed to enjoy being fawned over for a while, but now people have lost interest completely, and I'm about the only apprentice who visits him."
"Don't lump me in as a grand-disciple without my permission." When I asked, "Ribs" apparently referred to a type of cloud—ribbon-like clouds called rib-clouds that looked somewhat like fish bones. Honestly, I would have preferred a better name. "Wata-gumo is a cute name, isn't it?" Shisho nodded. "I've been a disciple since before it was broadcast on TV. I barged in when I was in high school. So I'm special, I suppose. The later folks all get stuck with weird names like 'Entangled' or 'Flat'."
"The masterpiece was when he named a balding middle-aged uncle 'Hairless.' Actually, Hairless Cloud is a legitimate type of cumulonimbus, but... apparently the guy got mad and went home," she said with amusement.
There was a brief silence after that. I tentatively opened my mouth. "That last thing..." "Hm? What?" "What you were saying at the end—about the sky being wrong?"
Shisho stopped walking down the mountain path and looked back at me. She didn't have the joking expression she'd worn until just a moment ago. Once again, an unnamable anxiety welled up from the pit of my stomach.
*The sky—what's wrong with this sky?* I involuntarily looked up at the heavens. A crisp, brilliant summer blue stretched high overhead. There was nothing strange about it at all. Shisho looked up at the sky as well. The branches and leaves of tall trees growing along both sides of the mountain path blocked the sunlight, casting mosaic-like shadows over our eyes.
Squinting, Shisho pointed up at the sky and said, "Take a look at that single detached cloud over there. The edges are frayed, right? That's the kind of cumulus cloud that's about to disappear. Remember it." "Right..."
It was the kind of knowledge that would probably be of zero use in actual life. I spent my days having my head stuffed with such trivia by Shisho.
A few days later... Around that time, I was being persistently dragged along to practice lip-reading, which Shisho had recently gotten into. "Hey, don't try making me say lewd words today." "I know, I know."
*Flap, flap, flap.* Moving only her lips, she pretended to speak without making a sound. Just from that, Shisho had gotten somewhat good at guessing the words.
It was past midnight. For over two hours, we sat facing each other in Shisho's sweltering room. Moving only our mouths like a pantomime for that long gets boring, so I mixed in a few minor pranks, but Shisho was pretty bad at catching those jokes.
*Flap, flap, flap.* *Flap, flap, flap.* "…You, that's…" Shisho glared at me with a difficult expression.
It seemed to have started raining outside. The sound of rain beating against the cheap apartment's roof sounded annoyingly loud. Refusing to lose, I opened my mouth wide.
*Flap, flap, flap.* *Flap, flap, flap.* *“Tatsuya Uesugi loves Minami Asakura. More than anyone else in the world.”*
I was mimicking a famous line from the manga *Touch*, but I had changed the names slightly to two people close at hand. Just as Shisho remained silent and I was about to repeat it, the surroundings suddenly darkened.
At first, I thought a shadow had passed over the sun. That feeling you get on a hot summer afternoon when a large cloud passes across the sky. Exactly that. ... Time stopped as if frozen. The time belonging just to the two of us, me and Shisho. A shadow was slowly moving across the room. I could tell where the boundary was. A dark patch was running across the tatami mats.
Before long, brightness suddenly returned to the room. The place where the dark shadow had fallen passed over us, reached the corner of the room, and drifted away beyond the wall at the same leisurely pace. As if nothing had happened, the room returned to normal.
*Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump...* The sound of my heart beating was deafening. My body refused to move, as if frozen in place. As I tried to swallow my saliva, my throat felt like it was going to cramp. A sound escaped me: "Guh."
Shisho, sitting across from me, also stared wide-eyed, her body stiffened. *What was that just now?* My rationality searched for an answer, but found absolutely none.
Overhead, a thick cloud had passed by. That should have been all. For an instant, the sun was blocked, the cloud passed, and brightness returned to the surroundings. Just that. An entirely ordinary occurrence. If only it hadn't been midnight.
"You've got to be kidding," Shisho muttered, her face tense. We were inside a room. And it was past midnight. Naturally, the room's lights were—
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