It's raining again today. It's rainy season, so the downpour has been relentless for days now.
According to today's news, our area is about to be hit with warning-level heavy rainfall. My senior colleague called out to me. "We've got an emergency warning active from this evening through tomorrow afternoon. Sorry to dump this on you, but I need you to go set up the evacuation center." "Got it."
I gathered my gear and drove out into a quiet, heavily depopulated district. The familiar road, usually bordered by nothing but farmland, was unrecognizable after days of continuous rain. After parking in a lot a short distance away, I walked toward the community center where the evacuation shelter was to be established. On the way, a concrete-paved river caught my eye. What was usually a gentle stream had turned into a churning, muddy torrent the color of coffee. (This storm looks way worse than usual.)
As the rain began to fall harder, I hurried into the community center.
I set up a makeshift reception desk and sat down in a chair. Even though it's called an evacuation center, all we really do is provide space. We don't roll out the red carpet for evacuees, so there wasn't much prep needed. All I had to do was arrange some desks and chairs in the community center's sprawling main room.
In the end, the only person who showed up was the elderly woman who lives alone and evacuates every single time. She's over eighty with a hunched back, and since we run into each other every time the shelter opens, we've become familiar faces. She lives by herself with no one to rely on if something goes wrong, so even at the mildest warning, she comes straight here. We made a little small talk, but given her age, she laid out an emergency mat and fell asleep shortly after 8:00 p.m.
The rain grew even heavier. The clock read just past 2:00 a.m. To shake off my drowsiness, I stretched and glanced around the room. That's when I saw it.
Something was off at the edge of my vision.
When I turned to look, a silhouette was cast on the frosted glass opposite the main entrance. My shoulders twitched in a sudden jump of fear. A human shape. Calming my racing heart, I walked over toward the window. Even though it was the middle of the night, if an evacuee had arrived, I had a job to do. I spoke out. "Hello? Is someone there?" I didn't have the nerve to swing the window wide open right away. A brief silence followed. Just as I was about to speak again— "I beg your pardon. I beg your pardon." A voice came from behind the frosted glass. It was a muffled, low male voice. "Would you mind opening up?" the voice continued.
Why wasn't he coming through the unlocked main entrance instead of doing this? It felt deeply creepy. Still, I couldn't just turn someone away. I decided to have him walk around to the front door. "If you could please..." Walk around to the main entrance? Just as I started to say it, a hand grabbed my shoulder with a firm grip. My heart leaped into my throat again. I turned around to find the elderly woman, who was supposed to be asleep, holding onto my shoulder. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm just helping a visitor—" Before I could finish, she pressed her hand over my mouth, silently pleading with me not to speak.
Right then— "I beg your pardon. I beg your pardon." The voice came again. But this time, it was a young woman's voice. I looked at the window. Next to the first silhouette, another, slightly smaller shadow had appeared. ""Would you mind opening up?"" The emotionless voices overlapped. At that exact moment, a realization struck me. The back of the community center faces the river. For safety reasons, there is no physical way to walk around to the rear of the building.
"""Would you mind opening up?""" More voices joined in. The old woman was clutching my clothes, trembling violently.
A story I had read somewhere suddenly flashed through my mind. "Evil things cannot enter unless they are invited."
I bolted toward the main entrance. Fumbling with the old-fashioned mechanical latch, I locked it. Right after I did— "Would you mind opening up?" A voice spoke from right outside the front door.
I froze in the middle of the room alongside the old woman.
""""Would you mind opening up?""""
I couldn't even tell how many voices there were anymore. When I looked around, silhouettes were standing outside every single window, not just at the back. Even through the clear glass, the shapes looked like nothing more than swirling black mists.
Beside me, the trembling old woman began to whisper in a faint voice. "Namu Amida Butsu... Namu Amida Butsu..." Clinging to those words like a lifeline, I joined in.
"Namu Amida Butsu... Namu Amida Butsu..." I repeated the chant frantically, trying to drown out the voices outside.
How much time had passed? Between the chants, the voices I had been hearing were gone.
The sky was beginning to turn white. My eyes met the old woman's. "What... was that...?"
I asked, my face still pale. The old woman answered. "I don't know. But on days with terrible rain, things like that come around sometimes. I was taught that if you answer them, something terrible will happen." Around noon, the rain finally stopped.
Days later, a Jizo statue was found on the riverbank downstream from the community center. It appeared to have been washed down from far upstream. The inscription carved into the stone was severely worn, and the only barely legible characters read: Taisho Era ×××× Spirits of the Drowned ××××