Shinigami – Ritsuko's Tale by J Morose (2009)

Shinigami – Japanese, Death Gods. These are the spirits that separate the souls from life and escort them on their onward journey.

The Shinigami was stood there in the spirit world, dressed in traditional black Wafuku, wooden clogs on the feet. The androgynous face of the Shinigami was in deep contemplation, or in other word, bored.

“Shinigami, your next assignment...” The disembodied voice from branch office sounded bored. “Do you accept?”

The Shinigami's head snapped to attention, something to do, excellent. It had been a while since there had been an assignment, due to the pressing need to interfere with the natural course of things.

“I accept.”

Simultaneously, an envelope appeared in the Shinigami's hand. It was a plain white envelope with 'ten', the Chinese symbol for heaven printed on the back. The Shinigami opened the envelope, contained within were the client's name, spatial location and time of death and the circumstances surrounding it.

The Shinigami was intrigued by this case. Every so often, something different came out of the blue and this case merited a little research. The disembodied presence disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

***

Meanwhile, in a small 6 tatami room in Kabukicho, Tokyo, things were not going well for Yukio Watanabe. How was he going to live with the shame he had brought upon himself, how was he going to live?

Yukio was not the happiest bunny in town. First, he had been 'restructured', the term generically used to indicate redundancy without giving any specific reasons. He always thought he was a good and conscientious salaryman, always prepared to work overtime and to go drinking with the customers after work. His work was always on time and of acceptable quality. He even co-wrote some of the customer specific software.

He also kept his private life private. What was not known by his former employers however, was at weekends when he had no work commitments, he was Ritsuko, a middle aged housewife type that was not flamboyant like some of the others like him. Ritsuko enjoyed the simple pleasures in life, such as eating in girly cake shops, somewhere the average guy would not be seen dead in, for fear of being labelled 'gay'.

He decided that he was going to take Ritsuko out for one final blast, one last day as the person he should be, to make some last memories.

Little did he know that there was another presence in the room with him, watching, waiting.

Yukio pulled out the suitcase that was in his closet, the one that contained Ritsuko. He stripped and started unpacking the case. He removed a wig, cut in the classic Japanese style, straight, black with a well defined fringe. Also removed was a floral print dress, some tights and a pair of red, round toed shoes with a low heel.

He was naturally without body hair, having had it removed a few years ago when money seemed to not be an issue for him. He pulled out a padded girdle he had bought from a Hong Kong website last year. Oriental women, trying to achieve the same voluptuousness as their western counterparts, but wanted to wear the same fashions, hence the availability of girdles with padded bits. He slipped them on, tucking his bits as he went. He then put on the tights and an a-cup bra that he fished out. Japanese women tended to be flat chested but wore a bra for modesty reasons, something which Yukio was glad of.

Next, the dress was donned. He always loved this dress, it had a pastel blue floral pattern and was light. Given that the weather was hot and humid th the moment, less is always better.

He pulled out a case and did his make-up sat on the floor using a shaving mirror. His budget had never been able to stretch to an apartment with a bathroom, just a toilet and sink, so as such he always had to do this sat on the floor of his apartment. He applied the make-up with a practised ease that comes from several years doing this, ever since his family disowned him after finding him wearing his sister's underwear.

Finally done, he looked at Ritsuko in the mirror. She was made up conservatively, with just gentle colours and accents. He donned the wig and Ritsuko was there in person, ready to face the world.

Ritsuko stood up and walked to the genkan, the only bit of floor not covered in tatami matting and donned the shoes. Grabbing a handbag from the hook on the back of the door, she opened his apartment door and was off out.

She clacked down the hallway and eventually made it outside. It was hot and humid out. This being early afternoon, the streets were busy with hustle and bustle of enterprise. Women and men, both in business attire marched up and down the streets purposefully, on their way to meetings and the like.

Ritsuko made her way to the shopping district. She took a short cut through the 'entertainment' district, the deserted streets clad with host bars and clubs so different in the light of day. She did not pass by this area at night, what with the streets filled with drunken salarymen, club workers and gangster wannabes. Not that they caused her much trouble of course, but refusing the endless 'Big sister, wanna go karaoke' got tiring after a while.

She eventually made it to the shopping district and stood outside the shop, looking at all the desserts in the window. She could see that the place was not busy at this time and made her way in.

“Irasshaimase!”, the high pitched welcome rang out throughout the shop. A waitress, dressed in the classic pink and white uniform greeted Ritsuko and escorted her to a table. Ritsuko always felt better when seated, butterflies went through her stomach even though she has been doing this for a number of years, fears of being outed in public.

Ritsuko ordered the strawberry sundae she was eyeing up in the window and a glass of iced tea. The waitress repeated the order and scurried off. Ritsuko looked around, not a man in sight! This was one of the bastions of femininity in Japan, men were as likely to be seen here as they were to be in the ladies underwear section of a department store. She noticed several women, all in groups, sat at various tables and chatting while nibbling away at their deserts.

The waitress returned. “Your strawberry sundae, maam.”

“Thank you.” Ritsuko kept her voice quiet and soft as she had done many times before.

“may I ask you a question, maam.” The waitress had a look of intrigue on her face.

“Please do.”

“You come here a lot, but are always on your own...”

“Yes...” Ritsuko was curious about the sudden line of questioning.

“...Well, you do not look happy, as there something you want to talk about?”

“I am fine. Just had a bad week that is all.”

“Sure. Enjoy your meal, maam.” With that the waitress headed off.

Ritsuko was flummoxed by this, but soon returned to her deep brooding state, taking small spoonfuls of her dessert. As usual, it was delicious and light, just perfect.

She looked around the room, everybody was absorbed in their own groups as usual. This was reassuring, the norm in Japanese society, where 'naijin' or insiders in a group never took much notice of 'gaijin', outsiders, unless they made a show of themselves. Ritsuko was painfully aware of her gaijin status, belonging to neither a work, family or social group any more. She was 'hitori de', alone.

She ate on slowly, savouring every mouthful. Tears started forming in her eyes. Finishing her desert, she grabbed the receipt and made her way to the cashiers desk by the exit.

“460 yen please.” It was the waitress that served her before. “Are you sure you are all right?”

Ritsuko handed her a 500 yen coin and said “I'll be OK.”

Taking the money, the waitress fumbled in her pocket for a bit before removing a card. This she presented to Ritsuko with her change. “Thank you. My name is Sayaka and that is my number. I finish at 6pm, if you want to talk, give me a call.”

Ritsuko automatically took the card. “Thank you.” She then fled the shop, leaving the stunned waitress mid bow.

***

About half an hour later, she was wondering aimlessly down the road. She had left most of the shops behind and was entering a residential district. She stopped and looked around her, taking stock of exactly where she was. Her eyes were all puffy from the tears of earlier.

“Why did she have to be so nice?” She spoke softly, under her breath almost. She had never been much good at making friends in person. She spent a lot of time on the internet talking with others like herself, but the one time she went to a bar for people like her, she found out that there were many people not like her, people that wanted to dress flamboyantly and act outrageously, somewhat like mannequins of the woman she so desperately wanted to be. She had fled the bar that night, never to return.

Ritsuko recognised the place now where she was, it was close to Yoyogi park. She resolved to visit the shrine there and pay her respects. It was the right thing to do, she thought, as she will be joining them shortly.

So, off she went, meandering slowly through the streets until she made it to the park. A sign board had a map of the park on it and she found where she wanted to go.

She looked around and there was not many people about. This was different of course on a Sunday, when the Gothic Lolitas, Punks and various other youth fashion groups packed the park out, due to its close proximity to Harajuku, the Mecca of Japanese alternative fashion.

She passed through a Torii gate, that wooden arch that represented the boundary between the world of men and that of the temple. She was a little more devout than most of her fellow countrymen these days and often came to pay her respects.

Marching through the gates of this temple compound, she found the main altar and removing her shoes, ascended the steps to it. She clapped her hands, rang the bell, threw in a handful of small change into the collection box and began to prey.

'Kami-sama (God), I thank you for all that I have been provided for in this life.

I know it is an imposition and you are probably sick to death of hearing this stuff from me. I know I was supposed to be a girl and all I feel like at the moment is a freak. Well, don't worry about it any more. I will be joining you soon.'

Tears welled up in her eyes as she silently voiced her prayer, unaware that she was being observed still and that her thoughts were heard plain as day by the Shinigami who had come to judge her. She continued:

'I think I will be joining you soon. Please when the time comes, let me be reborn a woman. Also, I would like you to continue to watch over my countrymen. Thank you for listening.'

With that, she bowed and clapped her hands once more, satisfied that she had observed her religious obligations.

***

The Shinigami mused on the words of its client. He was not one to get personally involved, but there was something that was supposed to have been lost coursing through his mind, emotions. Anger, sympathy and love were there aplenty, this was one soul that it would be regrettable to take. With that thought in mind, he resolved to go and get his rulebook out and see what he should do under these circumstances.

***

Meanwhile, Ritsuko had bought a bottle of tea from a nearby vending machine and was sat on a bench, thinking. She was still depressed, this was not the way she wanted Ritsuko's last day to go, she wanted it to be a happy day.

Taking a gulp of her drink, she decided to go home and make her final preparations. She made a list in her mind, she had two letters to write, one to leave in her apartment and one to send off to her parents. She had to make sure that the insurance documents were easy to find so that nobody would be inconvenienced by the expense of her funeral. Also, she had to get rid of any food in her apartment so that it would not smell, not the last image she wanted people to remember her by.

***

Meanwhile, the Shinigami rummaged and scanned through a scroll.

“Jisatsu – suicide, where is it......ahh, found it.”

Suicide did not have the stigma in Japan as it did in Western culture, it was considered a valid way of expunging shame and disgrace even today in some quarters, notably the merchant classes and the Yakuza, who were still operating under quasi-feudal standards.

The Shinigami read up, the rules were the rules, laws that had not changed for a millennia or more. The rules stated that a suicide shall be judged the same as any other death, upon the past actions and deeds of the deceased, the only mitigating factor is any disturbance to another persons life caused directly by the suicide.

The Shinigami looked again at what was written. “No get out clause there. Well, must continue looking..”

***

Ritsuko had finally left the park and was wandering through the residential area of Yoyogi once more. She decided that there was no need for haste, her death had been planned for later on, when it would not inconvenience people as much. She had considered various methods, like sealing up her flat and setting a charcoal burner going causing carbon monoxide poisoning. A gentle way to go but there was no way to know that the gas would not leak out and hurt others in her building. There was jumping in front of a train, but her family would be invoiced for the trouble by Japan Rail and the last thing she wanted was her estranged parents cursing her for the expense. She finally decided to jump off a bridge into Tokyo bay, less inconvenience and few would see her in her body.

That settled and reinforced into her mind once more, Ritsuko decided to change direction and catch the subway to the port.

She arrived there an hour later and saw her prize, the bridge that went across Tokyo Bay. She had forgotten its name, but it would do. She made her way over to the bridge and walked the length of it a few times, choosing her spot carefully.

Having decided, she set off in the direction of her home one last time. There were letters to write and affairs to finalise after all.

***

“Dekita! I have found it!” exclaimed the Shinigami, looking excitedly at the scroll. Just a little nudge here and there and it will be done.

***

At the same time, Satsuki, a 17 year old schoolgirl at the Municipal High School in Yoyogi, was running away from a gang of her fellow attendees. She used to be a bully and a gang leader, but an abrupt culture change occurred when that damned girl started there. She set up an anti-bully club and now even those close to her hated her. She was being chased because she had tried to extort money out of one of the younger girls. She had even goaded one girl into jumping off the school roof last year.

She finally lost them and decided that things were not right. The weak should not pick on the strong, that was her motto. The strong take and the weak give. She was an archetypical Sukeban (schoolgirl delinquent) and although the term fell out of use a number of years before, she was proud of the title.

Satsuki had learned to hide well in the past few weeks, she had been taunted, hit and generally abused. She stayed still, hoping that those looking to extract the lunch money she had taken would give up and go away.

No such luck. One found her and shouted out to her friends who should be nearby. Satsuki punched the girl in the stomach and fled once more, glancing behind her to see another six girls in hot pursuit. The one she hit, at least, was not part of them.

She fled blindly, down the road, past the houses and out of the housing district onto the main road, a six lane affair.

***

Ritsuko had made it to Yasukuni-dori, the main road that bordered Yoyogi and Shinjuku, where she lived. It was a busy road, even at night. Shinjuku is nicknamed the city that never sleeps. Many Japanese multinationals have their headquarters there and the Kabukicho district hosts entertainment for all tastes, no matter how diverse. It is packed during the day but at night the streets cannot be seen for a sea of people and businesses do not close until the small hours of the morning, satisfying the desires of the business elite.

***

The Shinigami took stock of the scene, mumbling a few words and making hand gestures. The proper forms had been met.

“Hope this works.” He mumbled to nobody in particular.

***

Satsuki ran blindly, they had almost caught up to her and she was panicing. The baying mob that vilified her was composed mostly of her ex-lackeys, girls that previously did her evil biddings, no matter what the task might be.

Spying her chance, she saw a gap in the traffic and went for it, barging past a woman, running out into the road.

***

Ritsuko looked up and saw a girl push past her and out into the road. Ritsuko knew how dangerous this road could be, having witnessed a few accidents, where she was too far away to do any good. This time however, she acted.

“Abunai, watch out! The traffic here..”

Ritsuko ran out and grabbed the girl by the waist, turning her back to the traffic.

A delivery van driver chose this moment to risk the lights. He was behind schedule and was on his last warning at work. He did not see the two women in the road until it was too late.

Ritsuko glanced over her shoulder and saw the van, but it was too late. She heard a sickening thud and all went dark.

***

The Shinigami acted, the situation was now within his jurisdiction. He called forth the two souls who now stood bare before him, etheric bodies of light giving no hint of age or gender.

“You,” The Shinigami pointed at Satsuki, “have to learn some lessons from this life, so you are being sent to the next in a position to learn them.” He gestured and the soul was gone, leaving that or Yukio / Ritsuko stood there.

“You have acted selflessly in saving the life of another, even though your own life was slated to end tonight. In so doing this deed, you have also saved the lives of six innocent others who were slated to die. While I do not interfere lightly with the affairs of mankind, except in death, I offer you a choice.”

Ritsuko / Yukio was intrigued. She always thought she would die tonight, but she had not put her affairs in order, but it was too late for that anyway. She listened intently.

“First, you may pass on as you were originally slated to do and carry on to the next life.

“Secondly, you may take the body of the young girl you saved, saving her parents heartache and living the rest of your life as the girl you always wanted to be.”

Ritsuko / Yukio was stunned.

“Choose!” The voice was commanding, powerful.

“I choose the second option.” This was a no-brainer for Ritsuko, the chance to hit a reset button on her life, that rare chance to start again.

“So it is done!” The Shinigami mumbled and gestured again in an arcane fashion and the second soul was gone.

The Shinigami stood alone, a wry smile appearing on the androgynous face.

“Well, I'll face the consequences of this one soon, but it was the correct thing to do.” This was mumbled.

Another gesture and the Shinigami was gone.

***

Bleep bleep went the sound, the first thing she was aware of. She slowly opened her eyes and was met with a dazzling brightness that gently faded to looking at a ceiling.

“She's awake!” A woman's voice spoke. “Quick, get the doctor.”

She became more aware, she felt numb but her whole body ached. The woman spoke again.

“Satsuki, please, can you hear me?” The woman pleaded, gentle concern showing on her now visible face.

The girl made to speak, but her throat was dry.

A nurse came rushing over and taking one look, went rushing off.

The girl finally managed to croak out a few words.

“Who are you? Who am I?”.

***

The Shinigami, who relaxes between jobs in the human world, caught sight of a newspaper headline: “Man in dress dies saving life of Schoolgirl.”

The Shinigami bought a copy at the local convenience store and read the story, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done.

***

Does this require a follow up? I had an idea after finishing The Floral Tales 5 earlier today and decided to knock this one out. I am not sure about doing a sequel or where it should go if I do write one.

I am still looking for a proofreader for my stuff though.

Let me know, please. Comments as always are very much appreciated, both critics and fans.

Thank you for taking the time to read - J