Chapter 38: Kyoto Is Very Interesting
In the fourth year of Emperor Genmei's reign during Japan's Nara period, the Hata clan, who claimed descent from Qin Shi Huang of China, introduced the laji (year-end ritual) custom that was popular during the Pre-Qin period of Chinese civilization.
They established the Fushimi Inari Taisha Shrine on Mount Inari in Kyoto.
Since Japan had no cats or tigers, they chose the fox, known for preying on mice in rice fields, as the god of agriculture, symbolizing protection of harvests.
This marked the beginning of the Inari faith in Japan.
The Hata clan, once foreigners, thus rose to become a prestigious family in Japanese society.
Because the Inari deity was tied to the people's daily life—unlike the deities of other shrines that were associated with aristocratic ancestors—the idea of worshiping an animal deity as an agricultural god quickly gained popularity among the Japanese.
The faith flourished and endured throughout the ages.
Today, the prayers offered to Inari go far beyond just "abundant harvests and prosperous businesses."
Even in modern times, Inari shrines can be found all over Japan—in places like Shima, Futami, Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, Osaka, and Tokyo—with Fushimi Inari Taisha in Kyoto being the most prominent and serving as the head shrine of all Inari shrines.
For Miura and her group visiting Kyoto, this shrine was naturally a must-see destination.
It's easily accessible—just take the JR Nara Line from Kyoto Station and get off at Fushimi Inari Station.
Hikigaya and the group rode the train for five minutes, then walked for another five minutes after exiting the station, and soon saw a massive torii gate.
It was truly enormous—taller than nearby buildings. Unlike typical Inari shrines, this one had torii with black bases and red columns. A stone tablet stood beside the right pillar of the gate, engraved with the characters "伏见稻荷大社" (Fushimi Inari Taisha). Behind it stood a fox statue clutching a stalk of rice in its mouth, poised as if running. There were many foreigners around the torii.
To the Japanese, torii are extremely sacred.
According to legend, the sun goddess Amaterasu once hid in a cave to escape her annoying brother, plunging the world into darkness.
People gathered all the chickens, built a high platform (torii), and placed the chickens on top. At dawn, the chickens crowed together, startling Amaterasu, who emerged from the cave to see what was happening.
At that moment, sumo wrestlers who were lying in wait removed the stone blocking the cave entrance, and light returned to the world.
The torii, in mythology, is that high platform, and in Japanese, the word "tori" refers not just to birds but also chickens.
Of course, Hikigaya personally felt it was simply because "torii" sounded better than calling it a "chicken perch."
Passing through the torii, the group walked uphill.
Cherry blossoms were in full bloom along the path, creating a stunning contrast with the red gates.
After passing through a second torii, they were greeted by a red gate tower—especially beautiful against the blue sky, white clouds, and pink cherry blossoms.
In front of the gate were two stone fox statues—one holding a key, the other a jewel.
This was the main hall gate, clearly bearing Chinese architectural influence, a fusion of traditional Chinese pavilions and temple styles, primarily in red.
The group went to purify their mouths and hands at a temizuya (purification fountain) before formally entering the shrine.
Hikigaya then saw the countless red torii behind the main hall, extending up a long mountain path, forming an endless corridor of gates—a sea of red that stretched out of sight.
Since the Edo period, generations have contributed to this corridor, which now spans several kilometers up Mount Inari.
The most famous part, which Hikigaya saw, was the Senbon Torii (Thousand Torii Gates)—renowned worldwide.
They first prayed at the main hall. Hikigaya just silently observed—no one asked him to participate.
After everyone finished, they exited the main hall and entered the torii corridor from a side path, beginning their climb.
The mountain trail covered by torii was incredibly peaceful.
Afternoon sunlight filtered through gaps in the gates, casting a mysterious red glow.
The full trail is about four kilometers long, taking roughly two hours to complete.
Tourists short on time usually just take photos and leave, but for Miura and her group, reaching the summit of Mount Inari through the torii path was a key goal of the day.
Hikigaya thought their energy was excessive, but overall, the hike wasn't bad.
In this corridor that felt like a walk through time, Yuigahama held Yukino's hand and walked up front with Miura and Ebina.
Hayama and Tobe followed in the middle, while Hikigaya and Hiratsuka Shizuka trailed behind.
Other tourists came and went but mostly remained quiet. Occasionally, the cawing of crows echoed in the forest.
Hikigaya observed the impressive torii corridor up close.
Each torii had the characters "奉纳" ("dedicated offering") on the top beam, and names and dates of donors carved into the pillars. The old, faded red wood mingled with freshly painted vermilion, showing how later donors had inserted new torii wherever there was space, with no particular order.
Over time, the corridor would surely become even more dense and lengthy.
As they ventured further, the group's initial enthusiasm began to fade into fatigue.
Likewise, the number of other climbers thinned. Though it still seemed crowded, when they stopped for a brief rest, no new tourists appeared for several minutes.
Only after some time did another group arrive.
The group continued the climb, but perhaps due to the changing atmosphere, they weren't as excited anymore, falling quiet.
Their formation changed too.
Hayama, the golden-haired athletic star of their school, naturally took the lead, showing off. Tobe, the other blonde, hesitated—should he follow Hayama and show off too, or fake exhaustion and move closer to Ebina, the "fujoshi"? Miura quickly helped him decide—with a deathly cold glare that pushed him to join Hayama up front.
Thus, the formation became: blond duo in front, girl group in the middle, and Hikigaya and Hiratsuka playing rear guards—after giving each other disdainful glances.
But after his glance, Hikigaya noticed something that shouldn't have been there.
They had reached a remote part of the mountain, with thick forests surrounding the torii corridor.
A small black figure flashed briefly through the shadows beyond the torii, and Hikigaya caught a clear glimpse of it.
He turned his eyes forward—and they landed on a young girl.
She had short hair, casual clothes, and looked even younger than Miura and the others. Seeing her back, Hikigaya's lips curled into a small smile.
He gently touched Tamamo-no-Mae, the fox spirit on his shoulder.
The two—boy and fox—locked eyes, and both had a playful glint in them.
Indeed, Kyoto is a very interesting place.
Chapter 39 – Strange Encounter in the Mountains
The group continued walking, and the black shadow Hikigaya had seen earlier never reappeared.
Of course, that was impossible.
There likely didn't exist a creature in this world that could completely escape the senses of a God Slayer.
Maybe gods could do that, but obviously, that prideful bunch—even if they could—they wouldn't.
On the contrary, upon seeing a God Slayer, they would be afraid of not showing off their glory enough.
"Master, it's a Yamako (mountain ogre)," came a faint voice in Hikigaya's mind. It was Tamamo-no-Mae speaking.
As one of the top monsters among yōkai, even though most of her power was currently sealed, it was unthinkable that she wouldn't be able to detect a simple Yamako.
Besides, this was Fushimi Inari Taisha—her home turf.
Though she hadn't returned for many years, Tamamo-no-Mae was still extremely familiar with this place.
A mere Yamako couldn't possibly escape her senses.
"Yeah, a Yamako and an Onmyōji… how interesting," Hikigaya replied in his mind. "I've never seen Onmyōdō in action before—let's observe."
"Master, you really are bad," Tamamo-no-Mae chuckled softly and then fell silent.
Yamako, as the name suggests, are mountain spirits or ogres.
Oni (demons or ogres) are a major category of supernatural beings in Japanese folklore.
The character "鬼" (oni) is derived from Chinese, but its meaning in Japan diverged significantly. One theory says it stems from the word "隠" (to hide), as oni often don't want humans to see their true forms.
The category of oni in Japan is vast: it includes ghosts, hell minions, evil gods, unknown creatures, deformed humans, outcasts, and even barbarians.
In ancient Japan, people believed that oni ate humans—whole, in one gulp.
Hikigaya found the latter part of that rather unfair to spirits.
After all, these beings are naturally born; while they might profit from human myths and folklore, their diets don't include humans.
Tamamo-no-Mae could vouch for that.
She might have killed people, but eating them? Totally unjustified accusation.
Even history could back this up.
In the Heian-era literary work The Tales of Ise, there was a story where a man secretly eloped with his beloved woman at night, hid her in a warehouse, and stood guard with a bow and arrow until dawn.
Come morning, the woman was gone. He assumed she had been swallowed whole by an oni and broke down in despair.
But the author clearly wasn't sympathetic—he added a footnote saying that, in reality, the girl's older brother had found her and quietly carried her back home.
The idiot outside didn't notice a thing.
Regardless of the author's twisted humor, it proved one thing: the idea that oni eat humans was a baseless rumor.
You lose a girl and blame the demon? Really?
Not all oni in Japan are evil either—some bring blessings.
As for the Yamako beyond the line of torii gates, Hikigaya had no idea what kind it was.
What intrigued him more was the interaction between the Yamako and the young Onmyōji girl ahead of him.
It was obvious—they were a "pair"!
That Onmyōji girl was clearly a rookie. Otherwise, she would have sensed Tamamo-no-Mae on Hikigaya's shoulder.
But perhaps the setting—Fushimi Inari—had lowered her guard.
After all, in Japanese mythology, the Inari clan consists of fox spirits, and in reality, the leader is none other than Tamamo-no-Mae herself.
Within Inari shrines, fox spirits are not seen as monsters—they are revered as gods.
Possibly driven by curiosity, Hikigaya unintentionally walked a bit faster, moving closer to the girl.
This didn't go unnoticed.
"Hachiman?" Miura looked at him, surprised, as he passed her with a sly grin.
Her voice caught the attention of the others too.
But by that point, Hikigaya had already composed himself—his mischievous grin gone.
"Huh? Tired already?" He slowed his pace with a completely serious expression, as if he had only walked ahead to catch up with Miura and the rest.
"No… Are you okay?" Miura glanced ahead, then at Hikigaya.
Something felt off.
That expression just now—so sleazy…
But now, seeing his serious face, she began to doubt herself.
"I'm fine. Feeling great. The air here is so fresh," Hikigaya laughed it off, pretending not to notice Miura's suspicious gaze.
He had a good reason to stop—because that clueless Onmyōji girl up front had sensed something and turned back, glancing in their direction with a confused expression.
Hmm, cute little girl.
Given her role as an Onmyōji, she was likely from Kyoto.
She had delicate features, a slender nose, soft pink lips pressed together, and calm eyes. She wore a white jacket and jeans.
She scanned the group, and when her gaze passed over Tamamo-no-Mae, there was a slight flicker in her previously calm eyes—a look of admiration.
Yep, rookie for sure…
Rookie meets Yamako—classic setup for an exciting encounter.
Thinking this, Hikigaya glanced at Miura beside him.
She was the perfect example.
Though not a magician, she was certainly a different kind of rookie…
Just then, his expression shifted slightly, and he subtly moved to one side.
He almost forgot! There was no place up here to change clothes!
Please, girl—dear sister—just don't cry while hugging me!
Unfortunately, Miura wasn't Tamamo-no-Mae. Hikigaya's internal plea couldn't reach her mind.
So when she saw Hikigaya's slightly panicked gaze, she returned it with a beaming smile as if to say, "Are you smiling at me?"
That made Hikigaya even more uneasy.
Then, his eyes shifted to Shizuka Hiratsuka in the back—the teacher, wearing an expression that screamed, "Are all the men in the world dead or something?"
Right. She's a teacher.
Perfect. He'd count on her in a pinch.
But then his smile froze, because—
"Hachiman, doesn't it feel a little chilly?" came a voice, and he felt an arm wrapping around his.
Hikigaya looked down—and of course, it was Miura clinging to him.
His heart sank. This move felt dangerous…
I mean, come on, it's bright daylight and hot out.
Why would it feel cold? The Yamako doesn't have air conditioning.
He tried to look at her again, but she lowered her head to block his view.
His eye twitched. Forcing a gentle smile, he lightly patted Miura's hand.
"Ha-ha, you really like to joke. How could it be cold?"
Damn it, why is she holding on even tighter?
Give me a break, girl. It's hard enough just keeping these clothes clean—can you not?
As the saying goes, when fate is against you, even cold water gets stuck in your teeth. Just as Hikigaya was debating whether to use godspeed to switch places with Shizuka behind him—
A strange sound came to his ears:
"Hei ha… hee hee hee…"