Shiki Volume 1 Chapter 3 part1

Chapter 3

1

Seishin received notice of the death on July eighth, early on a Saturday morning. Just finished with the morning services, he left the main temple to Ikebe and Tsurumi, going on ahead to the living quarters, just as Mitsuo was stepping out of the temple office.

"Ah, Junior Monk," his voice called out as he half-ran down the corridor, Mitsuo's demeanor indicating there must have been an emergency indeed. "There was a call just now. It seems the Gotouda household's Shuuji-san has passed away."

Seishin blinked. "Shuuji-san? That can't be."

Even if it was a small village, it wasn't as if he knew everybody who lived there but at the very least Seishin knew that Shuuji was a man in good health and not at an age where sudden death was to be expected.

"Was there an accident?"

"Complications from a summer cold, his mother was saying, but. The Koike household's Masaharu-san will come to meet with you as the funeral manager if you have the time."

"I understand. Thank you very much."

Mitsuo nodded and headed into the living quarters hallway towards the main building. Changing places with him, Seishin entered into the temple office. Looking at the blackboard, he could see Mitsuo's solemn writing, "Gotouda, Meeting, Koike."

The village had an institution called the Mourning Crew. The village had no undertaker. In its place they had the Mourning Crew. Anytime there was a misfortune in a community, the neighbors would get everyone together to help. The women were necessary for the mourner's meal and of course the men's help was indispensable for burying the deceased. The village still buried its dead. Graveyards for each household were established in the mountains that encircled the village, and digging the grave holes there, as well as hoisting the coffins up there and putting the dirt back over them would be impractically hard labor without male hands on board. The Mourning Crew's local representative would serve as a manager on the occasion of a funeral in place of an undertaker, assigning all the other roles. From arranging for a coffin and any related mediation, to everything roughly related to the funeral, he managed it. The elderly of the Koike family had been serving as the heads of the NakSotoba Mourning Crew for some time.

(A summer cold....)

Shuuji was surely only six, maybe seven years older than Seishin, wasn't he? He had come to Buddhist memorial services so he knew his face well, but they weren't what you would call particularly close, by any means. If he recalled, he lived together with his mother. Certainly, his mother Gotouda Fuki must have been despondent.

(It's just, too soon.)

While caught in his melancholy, he headed deeper into the living quarters. He peeked into the living room but didn't see his mother. And so he left the living quarters to the separate building--or as much as one could call it separate when only stepping out a little ways from the main wing of the house--to assist in feeding his father at his bedside. "Good morning," he said, seeing his father for the first time that morning.

This building called a separate one was the single western style building at the temple. His father Shinmei's gaunt body laid on the bed, which he could raise to a half-up position with the electric remote at his bedside. Last year he suffered a stroke and ever since his limbs had been paralyzed. With his age adding to matters, since becoming bedridden his condition was worsening steadily. He could just barely manage to hold a fork and spoon but he could neither stand nor walk.

"Father, it appears Gotouda household's Shuuji-san has passed away. What shall we do about his posthumous name? "

His father and mother both looked at Seishin in surprise.

"That's, but he was still young."

Beside Miwako who was at a loss for words, Shinmei put down the spoon as if trying to throw it down.

"Shuuji...... Fuki-san's, youngest son, was he?"

Ever since falling ill, Shinmei's words were spoken haltingly. That he could speak, even inarticulately, gave an idea of his strength of will, of the impression of his wisdom.

Miwako drew her brows together, nodding at Shinmei.

"Shuuji-kun, who sold woodworking joints, yes? Was it said how he passed?"

"Something about summer cold complications. The Koike's Masaharu-san will be coming shortly..."

"Mm. I'll think, on the, posthumous, name."

Seishin nodded his head slightly. Even now he consulted with Shinmei about everything relating to the temple. The head monk of the temple was ultimately still Shinmei, with Seishin as the assistant chief, merely Shinmei's proxy. Being the head monk of the head temple had nothing to do with ability. It was a position based on a relationship of trust with the parishioners.

"Call, Toshio-kun."

"Yes. I will ask him about the state of things."

"And, the cemetery, arrangements."

Shinmei spoke shortly, Seishin nodded. Burying a person would require a plot of land large enough to do so. For each who died, the cemetery would have to be organized so that a spot wide enough for one was assured. A fir tree would be planted over the former mound, and its roots would dig out space. It wouldn't cause problems as long as the cemetery was organized.

"I will make arrangements with the manager."

Just as Seishin was leaving, Mitsuo poked his face into the separate building.

"Koike-san has arrived."

The elder Koike was, in spite of being in advanced age, slim but fit, with a good complexion, looking young for his age. He was the spitting image of hale and hearty.

"It's a terrible shame."

"Thank you for your hard work."

Koike knew the gist of things, conveying them as he sat in the office chair. "I'm at a loss for words that can comfort someone going through what Fuki-san is. It's a crime against one's parents to have them outlive you to do your funeral, they say."

Fanning his face with a folding fan, he downed the cup of barley tea brought by Mitsuo.

As many times as his father---and as many times as Seishin himself had done it, arranging a funeral service procedure was a simple matter. The wake would be today, the private funeral tomorrow, and as they were doing a burial, funeral services were kept short in the summer.

"Anyway, I'd like to ask if you could to do the chanting of the Sutras soon. And as long as the posthumous name is appropriate, that'll be good," said Koike, fanning the back of his neck. "It was so sudden, it's all a mess."

"Father is concerned about the arrangements in the cemetery."

"Ah," Koike nodded. "It seems Fuki-san made arrangements for herself just a while back. Since it's summer, we shouldn't delay the funeral services. The contractors were spoke to and put a rush job on it. I'd like to say it's a relief, but when you think of Fuki-san's feelings, well. I mean, burying your son in the grave you made arrangements for for yourself, and all."

"Yes, indeed," Seishin murmured.

"By the way," Koike said, his voice indicating a change in topic. "Junior Monk, you've met with Hidemasa from Yamairi recently haven't you?"

"Yamairi's----Mursako Hidemassan, is it? No, the last I had seen him was during the equinoctial week?"

"I was wondering if, at a time like this of all times, he was on a trip, or if maybe he said anything about going off somewhere---Well, I guess even if he did, it wouldn't mean anything now. We're talking about back during equinoctial week."

"Is he not in?"

"Yeah. We can't reach him. I mean, Hidemassan is Fuki-san's older brother. We've been calling all morning but it seems no one is in. I can't imagine in my wildest dreams that he'd be out in the mountains," Koike said as he stood. "Anyway, we'll be counting on you."

"I will be as prompt as I am able."

"Sorry for the trouble. ---Ah, before I go, I'll pay the head monk a visit."

Chapter end