REIIN
The Pretender
short story
In a small village not far from Kyoto stood a small family-run temple. The temple honoured Inari and kitsune that served her. It was an old traditional building with paper doors and many hidden places.
A special room held the family-kept kitsune relics, among them were masks. They were of different times and conditions, with a variety of different markings, yet the viewer would see a common thread.
One day the priest of the temple noticed that one of the masks had moved slightly. Thinking that a cat had played with it, he moved it back and continued with his usual routine.
The next day, he found the mask on the floor. Cursing the temple’s cat, the priest cleaned the mask and put it back in it’s rightful place.
The day after, he found the mask had moved again. He looked everywhere but it was nowhere to be found. Still blaming the cat, he went back to his duties.
That night, the priest’s daughter came running into her father’s room whispering so quietly that he barely could make out the words “kitsune”, “floating, “mask”.
They crept into the girl’s room saw the kitsune mask floating in the thick black air. Convinced it was a spirit if Inari or one of her messengers, the priest and his daughter decided to honour this room in the spirit’s name.
The following weeks were peaceful and the days passed with ease.; both the priest and his daughter found their tasks easy. They’d bring food and gifts such as seasonal fruits and flowers to the the sacred room, honoured to the spirit.
Yet strangely, they could never properly clean the space where the mask once lay. Besides this, they lead fruitful lives.
That was until they noticed strange things. Freshly cooked rice was cold, plants were dry after the rain, things misplaced.
To appease the spirit, the priest and his daughter brought more offerings. Yet to no avail.
One day the priest decided to peep into the room with the kistune. He slid the door just enough to peak through.
It was something no priest could be prepared for.
It was daytime but the room was dark and misty and no light came through the open windows. In the halo of ghostly hair the mask was floating in the middle of the room.
The moment the priest saw this sight, he quickly shut the door, and rushed downstairs to get his ink and brush to write a containing ofuda (ofuda - talisman, charm).
He now understood what lurked behind the door. It wasn’t a messenger of Inari, bringer of luck to the temple.
It was something else.
Darker.
Something that drew power from the sacred.
From the mask.
A special room held the family-kept kitsune relics, among them were masks. They were of different times and conditions, with a variety of different markings, yet the viewer would see a common thread.
One day the priest of the temple noticed that one of the masks had moved slightly. Thinking that a cat had played with it, he moved it back and continued with his usual routine.
The next day, he found the mask on the floor. Cursing the temple’s cat, the priest cleaned the mask and put it back in it’s rightful place.
The day after, he found the mask had moved again. He looked everywhere but it was nowhere to be found. Still blaming the cat, he went back to his duties.
That night, the priest’s daughter came running into her father’s room whispering so quietly that he barely could make out the words “kitsune”, “floating, “mask”.
They crept into the girl’s room saw the kitsune mask floating in the thick black air. Convinced it was a spirit if Inari or one of her messengers, the priest and his daughter decided to honour this room in the spirit’s name.
The following weeks were peaceful and the days passed with ease.; both the priest and his daughter found their tasks easy. They’d bring food and gifts such as seasonal fruits and flowers to the the sacred room, honoured to the spirit.
Yet strangely, they could never properly clean the space where the mask once lay. Besides this, they lead fruitful lives.
That was until they noticed strange things. Freshly cooked rice was cold, plants were dry after the rain, things misplaced.
To appease the spirit, the priest and his daughter brought more offerings. Yet to no avail.
One day the priest decided to peep into the room with the kistune. He slid the door just enough to peak through.
It was something no priest could be prepared for.
It was daytime but the room was dark and misty and no light came through the open windows. In the halo of ghostly hair the mask was floating in the middle of the room.
The moment the priest saw this sight, he quickly shut the door, and rushed downstairs to get his ink and brush to write a containing ofuda (ofuda - talisman, charm).
He now understood what lurked behind the door. It wasn’t a messenger of Inari, bringer of luck to the temple.
It was something else.
Darker.
Something that drew power from the sacred.
From the mask.
Illustration and story by Reiin