Feeling Ginger in the Jinjya

So it has been a while... Sorry about that. Just those first 48 hours in this place... Well everything was so insane and relentless, the second I got the chance to catch my breath I kinda burnt out entirely. Still I haven't been sitting totally idle. So let me catch you up by picking up where we left off.

After escaping the metal head kids and being rescued by the cat at the shrine, I am so beat up there is zero chance I am going anywhere for a few hours at least. Thankful I have a few supplies and what little first aid skills I can remember from half a decade of the Boy Scouts that I can fall back on.

But first I let myself sleep before anything else. I'm not sure how long I am out, but I would guess at least 8 – 10 hours. Now as refreshing as it feels to sleep again, this is on the rough carpet floor or the shrine shop. And while the temperature isn't to bad, the hard ground sure does a number on my spine. So when I wake up from a heavy, dreamless sleep, I have to add a back ache to my list of injuries.

The scratches on my face, along with most of the other smaller cuts seem to have stopped bleeding at least. However, I can't ignore the deep graze on my leg from where I fell in the rice field. I has soaked through my jeans a left an ugly layer of crusted blood on the surface. It throbs with pain, and I can already tell that it isn't going to be the kind of injury that I can just ignore till it heals back to normal.

With a grimace, I shift my body around in the cramped space so that I can sit up. It hurts to move – not just on my cut an bruised skin. But deep in my bones and muscles too.

I grab hold of the counter in front of me and drag myself upright. A smorgasbord of additional aches and pains prickle up all over my body. But all of them are bearable. The only wound that has me genuinely worried is my leg. The blood loss looks severe and my trousers are covered in mud and other grit. If I ignore the deep graze then it is sure to get infected.

I unbuckle my belt and cautiously remove my jeans. The fabric clings to my body where it has dried with the blood, and forcing it free means opening the scab in several places. I grunt with agitation as my leg begins to burn with the now open injury. But I am getting surprisingly used to pain very fast.

With my trousers now free and in my hands I hobble out the door of the shrine shop. I had spotted something that could help me on my way in and I wanted to confirm if it was real or just some creation of a fever dream.

The bright summer sun of midday hits me. If it wasn't so humid I would even call it refreshing. But an intense, sticky wet heat has sweat patches emerging all over my body. It feels weird to be outside in the middle of the day with nothing on my legs apart from my boxers. But – as I assumed – it also isn't like anyone else is around to see it. Well... No one except the cat...

I spy my feline saviour almost instantly. He is lounging on some rocks near the dragon shaped fountain, staring at me.

'Morning,' I grunt as I shuffle over.

The cat says nothing. Just continues to fix me in its gaze.

I make my way over to the fountain and pause in front of it. The basin is a large metal bowl – I'd guess it could hold about 50 litres all up. However, whoever designed this clearly wanted a more "rustic" feel. Because the metal body of the fountain is surrounded by a large gathering of haphazardly shaped stones, stacked on top of each other in a way that creates an almost pyramid structure around it.

From the edge of the basin protrudes a slate coloured stone dragon. It's body is about the same length and thickness of my arm, and the whole creature is intricately carved. Scales line its body, and the head has knowing look of wisdom in its eyes. Finally there is of course a steady flow of water spurting out from between the dragon's front teeth. It arcs through the air only to finally land into the main basin of the fountain. The sound of it splattering into the water is calming – almost musical. The kind of sounds that makes you think of some elven kingdom you would find in a Tolkien novel.

For anyone who may be unfamiliar with Shinto style shrines, there is a fountain like this at almost all of the larger ones. I know there is a routine you are meant to preform when you enter, but I'll be honest and say I never learnt how to do it. Most of my time in Tokyo was during a certain pandemic that meant these communal water sources were as dry and lifeless as bone. I know part of the process is rinsing and spitting out the fountain water. But I can never remember how to do it.

Still, it doesn't feel right to just stick my hand in without any kind of ceremony or acknowledgement. It's a sacred space after all, or at least it looks like one... Are places still sacred if no one is left to worship them? I guess it would be like getting hammered on communion wine, it might get the job done. But just comes across as a little inappropriate.

With no one else I can really call a local – at least a local who is both alive and hasn't atively tried to kill me – I turn to the black and white cat with it's vividly blue eyes. I bow and ask permission in my best broken Japanese.

'Ah... Korewa... mizu... Ummm... Watashi wa sentaku... onegaishimasu?' I say as I vaguely wave my hand in the direction of the fountain.

The cat gives me no indication that it is cool with my washing my blood out in this fountain... but it also doesn't give me a sign that I can't... And I am just desperate enough to take it as full clearance.

I turn back to the fountain and stick my hand in the water. The surface is warm from the sun hanging overhead. But after I submerge my hands a little deeper I find that it cools off quickly.

'Ah...' I sigh, letting myself just enjoy the coolness of the water for a moment. Then I glance at the cat. It still seems at ease. So I cup my hands in the water and draw out a good handful of the liquid.

As the fountain water dribbles through the cracks in my fingers I can see that is not just clean, but crystal clear and fresh. I have to assume it draws from wherever the farms irrigation system gets it water from, because a closed system like this would need to be filtered to stay this clean.

'Finally I catch a break,' I mutter, deciding that "where the ater comes from" is a mystery for another day. Then I slosh the water over my face, ears and neck. The coolness brings me an incredible sense of relief. Not just from the sun, sweat and dirt. But also as a simple reminder that, even in a place like this, not everything sucks.

I reach down again, and bring up another handful of water. I lather that over my body and just bask in the coldness. After a third round of "hand bathing" I shake off the droplets on my face and hands, and turn my attention to the more pressing part of my body – my leg.

The injury has completely scabbed over again, and the whole thing is covered in a gnarled black sheet of crusted blood. I grimace at it. Even if I wash it off here, without alcohol or other disinfectants I can't be sure it will heal properly. Still, if clean water is all I have, then that is just what I will have to use.

I liberally shovel out the fountain water and wipe it on my leg, attempting to remove all foreign objects like dirt or grass seeds. The scab cracks open again and the water mixes with my blood as it washes down my leg and into the grass. Still, I can see a lot of brown dirt getting picked up with the water flow. So it must be working to some extent.

Next I try and launder my jeans as best I can. With no soap and only cold water available it is hardly a deep clean. But it is certainly an improvement. In fact I am satisfied enough that I decide to strip down and repeat the process with the rest of my clothes.

Even in the desperate state that I am in, I don't feel right going as far as to jump into the fountain and soak myself like it's a bath. But I do wipe the rest of my body down, trying to get rid of as much of the ingrained dirt and clinging sweat as I can.

It feels weird to be naked in public. But I keep reminding myself that if any "people" do see me, then this would almost certainly catch their attention. I'm sure they would have seen the monsters too, and would therfore understand that clothes are probably the least of our issues in this place.

Besides, now that I am letting it all hang out, there is something kind of pleasant about letting the crisp fresh air roll all over me. The day may be hot and humid. But a slowly lilting breath that I normally wouldn't feel through my clothes makes me feel fresh as roses.

Still, I'm not aiming to sit around all day doing laundry. I have issues – a lot of issues – and I need to make some kind of genuine plan or I'll be staring to death in a couple of days tops.

My leg is still stinging with every step, and my arms are bunched around my soaking wet clothing. I must make a sorry sight as start to hobble over to one of the half dozen sakura trees that are scattered around the front of the shrines garden area. It strikes me as odd that the trees are blossoming. The delicate pink petals filling the branches and scattered all around the grass beneath my feet. After all, this heat and humidity means that it must be well out of season for this kind of plumage. Still, a bit like with my questions with the fountain, I'm not going to question anything positive in this place. No matter how abnormal it appears. And the trees that are hapazardly scattered around the grounds are definitely a positive. I'm not sure what spicies they are, so I don't know if they may provide some kid of fruit. But simply their beauty is enough to help calm me even in this waking nightmare of a place.

I notice that the sun is beginning to descend in the sky and I realise I can't spend all day staring at flowers. So I get to work trying to find branches on the tree where I can hang my soaking wet clothes without disturbing the blossoms too much. It takes longer than I expect due to how prone the petals are to scattering, but I soon get the job done. As though my stomach had been keeping track and realised my chores were done, I then feel a grumble from my stomach. When was the last time I ate? The train station? No, the kombini... I think?

I knew I had those energy bars in my backpack. They were hardly a substitute for real food, but they would keep me going at least. So with a tired sigh, I start to trudge back to the shrine shop.

The cat – who has been watching me the whole time – must have been curious as to what I was up to because he bounces off the rock he has been dozing on and stretches on the grass. He then strolls over too walk beside me in long slinky movements.

'Hey little guy,' I say. 'You hungry?'

'Moaw,' says the cat with a vague sense of sleepiness.

We enter the shrine shop and I open my back pack. I take out the energy bars, and see there are 10 in total. Thanks to being able to restock at the camping store I still have a fair few. I eat two of them as I think – occasionally snapping pieces off and tossing them to the cat, who chomps them down with a satisfied grin.

Then I shuffle over to the Toshiba laptop. This had truly bee a bizarre find. I had just assumed getting anything capable of rapid communication would be a total nightmare would be a nightmare. Still it was to soon to celebrate yet. I had to try it out first. I try turning it on. It flickers to life no problem. 'Oh shit...' I mutter in surprise. I inspect the body of the machine closer. I see there is a power cable that runs from a plug in the back, to a power socket under the table.

'Huh... Well will you look at that...' I comment to no one. I knew this place had to get power in some way. After all the lights in the shine shop were working. But having this PC didn't seem real. I mean, this is a direct connection to the outside world. Something I was certain would be "kept" from me by whatever is keeping me here. I check the laptops systems. The charger cable is working. The sound is on. And... my heart drops in excitement. It has an active connection to some kind of wifi network! I can get a message out!

There is no mouse, so I use the laptop's tracking pad to open chrome and immediately try to access my gmail.

The webpage flickers and turns to white. The little blue load bar at the top of the screen fills half way, my heat is thumping with excitement. Just a few more moments... I continue to wait, but nothing happens.

'Come on...' I mutter, my fingers jittering with anticipation. Still nothing changes. 'Come on!' I call. But I have already realised this is hopeless. Whatever weirdness is controlling, or at least manipulating, this place seems to extend to cyberspace as well. I could wait for hours, but gmail will never load.

As if to test my theory I try opening Netflix. The page opens in a matter of seconds. Then I try to load facebook and the same thing as gmail occurs. I have the internet, but no social media or other networking... Crap...

It is a little disheartening. But I a small part of me already knew that there was no way things would be that easy. So I manage to pull myself together quickly and start clicking through the rest of the PC. It has all the expected programs. Microsoft word, solitaire, etc. However, nothing that can obviously help me right now. 'God damn it...' I groan and lean back against the wall behind me.

'Meow,' purrs the cat from where it has made a perch on the shrine shop counter.

I look over it. It's brow is creased in a way that I would describe as indicating "concern" if I was seeing it on a human face. I follow its gaze and see that it is staring at my leg. The wound may be cleaner, but it is not "clean" by any stretch of the imagination. And I am reminded that infection is still a real probability.

'Yeah, you and me both,' I grunt at the cat.

With little else to do while I wait for my clothes to dry, I end up killing time by opening word and writing an account of the last two days. As the internet seems to be blocked by some weird firewall here, there isn't much I can do with my account. But there is a certain catharsis to getting all my thoughts in order. The cat seems quite satisfied to sit with me while I work, purring softly in the background. I reach over on occasion to give absent minded scratches between thoughts.

By the time I finish I realise it is starting to fall to dusk outside. I get to my feet, my bones popping as I stand after hours of stillness. I glance down and see that the cat seems to have fallen asleep on the counter and I decide it is best to leave it be.

I leave the shrine shop and check on my clothes. They are a little damp. But more or less ready so I put them on. Then – in the gloomy light of a rapidly aproaching evening – I stare at the outskirts of the shrine.

I can see outskirts of the town just over the road. Then beyond that I can see what I assumed earlier is the main business street. I remember seeing it on the map. Apparently there is a supermarket somewhere down that road. It is probably fully stocked too, like the kombini. If that is true then they would have food there. Maybe a first aid kit, or at least a bottle of vodka I could use to disinfect my leg. I could be there and back in an hour or two if I ran.

The idea dances at the edges of my mind. But I also get the impression that this feeling of safety I have right now. The security that lets me walk around naked and gossiping with a cat. It ends with the shines fence line. I'm not sure what gives me this feeling of safety. If it is just the cat – or whatever the cat really is – since it could frighten the metal head kids away. But I doubt anything is going to come for me in this place. Not easily anyway.

I also have a decent supply of water thanks to the fountain. Then there is a roof over my head if I keep sleeping in the shrine shop. For as long as I am stuck in this place, I think I can consider the shrine here home.

But water and shelter only account for two out of three basic survival needs. I need to eat.

I decide to go back to the shrine shop and try and make a battle plan. I haven't resigned myself to this place. I have a few ideas on how I can get out of here. But I can also tell that it won't be easy. Something in my bones makes me feel that something is out to get me here. There is the threat of the metal bucket heads, and whatever those finger creatures are – sure. But there is clearly something more too. Some presence here that wants to keep me trapped. It's whatever made the train all but dump me here, it's whatever is killing my ability to communicate with the outside world through the internet. It's something cruel, and – as strange as it is for me to accept – it seems to have magic at its disposal.

Something tells me it is smart enough to stop me having an out as simple as finding some keys and driving the hell out of here... If I'm getting out of here I have to outsmart it. And to do that I have to make a real plan. A plan that is going to take time.

For a brief moment a vision of the scraggly hands in the shed that the metal head kids seem to worship flashes into my mind and a shudder runs through my whole body.

What was that creature? What does it look like behind those walls, and what does it want? It's clearly intelligent enough to distinguish between its own people and the plastic head kids. But how smart is it? What powers could it hold? In short, maybe I should stop calling it "godlike", and accept that that is exactly what it is...