It was the spring of my first year in university. On a day off, I went into town on my bicycle.
Since I wasn't yet used to the new city and didn't know any clever places like vintage clothing shops, I just headed into a large department store in the center of town, wandering around and browsing the men's clothing. Inside one of the tenant spaces, there was a small pet shop. As I casually stopped by, I noticed someone familiar in the hamster corner.
They were crouched down, intently following the movements of the restless little animals with their eyes. For a second, I couldn't remember who it was, but I soon realized it was someone I had met at an online gathering just recently. I had only just started frequenting the local occult-themed internet message board.
She seemed to notice my gaze and looked up. "Ah, from the other day." "Ah, hello."
We exchanged standard greetings like that, but when she put her index finger to her brow and said, "Ugh, what was it again? Your handle," I gave her my real name. Her handle, if I remember correctly, was Kyosuke. She was a slightly older woman with a tall build.
When I answered "Just looking" to her question about whether I was shopping, she said, "Why don't you keep me company for a bit?" My heart skipped a beat. Even to a guy's eyes, she was cool, and just walking alongside her made me feel somewhat proud. I answered "Yes," but with a wave of her hand telling me to "Wait a minute," I ended up having to wait while she observed the hamsters to her heart's content. I thought she was a strange person.
***
Kyosuke-san said she was thirsty and took me to a cafe inside the department store. Sitting across from each other, we chatted for a while about the terrifying experience I had endured at the recent offline gathering. She wasn't the overly friendly type, but she was a good listener, and her casual prompts made it feel like whatever I wanted to say flowed out smoothly. However, I sensed a faint shadow in her expressions at odd moments, and that created a subtle sense of awkwardness in the conversation.
The conversation died down, and both of us reached for our drinks. Suddenly, the surrounding noise felt louder. As someone who was naturally shy and incapable of enduring that kind of tension, I racked my brain trying to find a topic of conversation. Without giving it much thought, I let slip: "I actually have strong spiritual awareness, and ever since I stepped into this building, the back of my neck has been tingling—it feels really strange."
It was a lie. My only intention was that someone who liked the occult would probably jump on a story like that. However, Kyosuke-san's eyes narrowed, and her expression suddenly tightened. "Is that so?" I became anxious, wondering if I had said something wrong. "Around here," she began, setting down her coffee. "Around here, there were fierce air raids during the war. B-29 formations filled the sky, and a large number of people fled from incendiary bombs into the basement of this building. But they were engulfed in smoke and fire, with nowhere to run, and they all died."
Her tone as she spoke matter-of-factly had no trace of reproach, curiosity, or anger. She was simply being sincere in telling the story. At that moment, I realized this woman was a native of the local area. "It was reportedly still before dawn," she said, reaching for her cup again.
***
I regretted it. I shouldn't have said something so irresponsible. I felt pathetic and depressed. Kyosuke-san let her gaze drift toward the ceiling for a moment, but noticing my state, she leaned forward and said, "Hey." Then, with a laugh of "Cheer up, kid, I'll show you something good," she started rummaging through the pockets of her jeans.
Right before my eyes, wondering what it could be, Kyosuke-san took out a black wallet, pulled a coin from inside, and placed it on the table. It was a 10-yen coin. It looked completely ordinary. When she nodded for me to pick it up, the front had nothing special on it, but when I flipped it over to the side marked '10,' there was an unfamiliar pattern. Just below the stamped year of Showa 5X, there was a scratch that looked like it had been made with some sharp tool. It was small and hard to make out, but it read 'K&C.'
"What is this?" I asked. "I carved it," she said. I thought it might be a crime, but I didn't push the subject. "Must have been my first year in high school. I was fifteen, so how many years ago was that... about six? I played *Kokkuri-san* with friends at school. Though we called it the 'Spirit-sama' instead. So, after we were done, you've probably heard that you aren't supposed to keep the 10-yen coin, right? Well, among us, it became a rule that we had to spend it immediately. I think I bought juice or something at a bakery."
I had experienced it too. In my case, even the paper used for Kokkuri-san was burned at a nearby Inari shrine. "Before using it, I thought of a little prank. There was a rumor going around at the time that a 10-yen coin used that way would keep coming back to your hands over and over. But I always wondered how you would know that the 10-yen coin was actually the one you used. So I signed it, just in case it came back."
***
The fact that it was right here means... "Right. Even though I'd completely forgotten that ever happened, it came back. Just now." Four days ago, when she received her change at a convenience store, she noticed a 10-yen coin with a strange scratch on it—and it turned out to be precisely the 10-yen coin she had used for Spirit-sama.
I thought it was a bit dubious. I don't know how many 10-yen coins are in circulation in society, but after all, this was an event within the same city. We exchange money every day. After six years, the exact same coin ending up in your hands once wouldn't be entirely out of the question. Perhaps it happens surprisingly often, and we just aren't conscious of it because we don't usually think of 10-yen coins as distinct individual objects. Still, the fact that it was *that* cursed 10-yen coin was undeniably strange.
"I wonder where it was used, how many people handled it, and how it made its way back to me," Kyosuke-san said, holding the 10-yen coin up to the light with a sentimental expression. For some reason, I felt a strange sense of relief.
When we left the cafe, I was feeling intimidated as Kyosuke-san said, "I'll treat you," but just as I prepared to graciously accept her offer, I witnessed a sight that made me doubt my eyes. She was trying to use that exact 10-yen coin at the register.
"Wait, wait," I tried to stop her, but cutting me off with a "Don't worry about it," Kyosuke-san finished paying the bill. To the clerk who said, "Thank you very much," we probably just looked like customers arguing over who was going to pay.
***
As we walked, I asked, "Why would you do that?" After all, as proof of such a miraculous event, it should have been a treasure to her worth far more than a mere 10 yen. However, Kyosuke-san casually declared, "Wouldn't it be interesting if it came back again?"
When I asked, she said she had decided this the very moment that 10-yen coin returned to her hands. It was just that she hadn't happened to have the opportunity to use a 10-yen coin for payment until now.
Her stride was longer than mine. I walked a little faster to catch up. I remember feeling an emotion close to both awe and respect, realizing that she lived a life without hesitation.
When I caught up and walked alongside her, Kyosuke-san spoke as if a thought had just struck her. "Did I really need to treat you?" It was too late to bring that up now, and I didn't know how to respond. "I'm older than you, but I'm a woman and you're a guy." She furrowed her brows slightly in thought. Then, with the serious tone of someone discussing philosophy, she said: "If it had just been that coffee, the 10-yen coin shouldn't have been spent. It was only by adding the orange juice that the amount reached the point where the 10-yen coin had to leave. This might be no fate."
Muttering those words, she offered a wry smile. I didn't understand the meaning, but I thought the words dancing from her lips were remarkably beautiful.
Looking back, the return of the 10-yen coin engraved with 'K&C' to Kyosuke-san's possession may well have been the prelude to the troublesome events that followed.
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