This is a story about something I experienced at my grandmother's place in Hokkaido. I was very young at the time, so my memory isn't crystal clear, but we were visiting a famous port town in Hokkaido for a memorial service for one of my grandmother's siblings. My grandmother's sister-in-law had trouble walking, so after the service, my dad drove her home in the car.
This great-aunt's house was located across from a temple at the top of a hill. Next to this temple—unlike what you usually see in big cities on the mainland—there was a graveyard that spread out completely in the open, without any surrounding wall.
My mom walked my great-aunt from the car into the house to assist her. Four of us remained in the van: me, my dad, my grandmother, and my little sister. However, my mom, who was supposed to come right back, was taking a long time.
Suddenly, my grandmother turned to my little sister and said, "A-chan, it's going to take your mother a while to come back, so you can go ahead and sleep." As soon as she said that, my sister, who had been talking up a storm until a moment ago, suddenly went limp and fell fast asleep. My dad spoke up. "Thank you, Mother-in-law. You go to sleep too," my dad told me gruffly. Being spoken to like that only made it impossible for me to sleep. "Well, yes, but Dear, he might not be able to sleep at a time like this," my grandmother replied.
The two of them were having this strange conversation between the driver's seat and the passenger seat. I felt an eerie, uncomfortable vibe for some reason, so I kept my eyes fixed on my great-aunt's house where my mom had gone.
Then my grandmother said, "Oh, Mom is back. Honey, let's start the engine." My dad grimaced slightly. My grandmother wasn't pointing at the front door of my great-aunt's house; she was pointing up toward the hill where the graveyard was. Sure enough, walking down the hill from the cemetery, I could see a woman in a beautiful white kimono carrying a parasol. My dad mumbled something under his breath. Suddenly, my grandmother said, "Oh, my mistake! Wrong person," with a chuckle.
"I see," my dad replied with an expressionless face. Worried by how off my dad looked, I glanced back toward the hill, but the woman in the beautiful white kimono was already gone. Simply curious, I tried to ask my grandmother, "Hey, Grandma, what about..." Right as I got that far— "Shut up, you idiot!" My dad whacked my head from the front seat using a road atlas.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. Don't pay it any mind," my grandmother comforted me. As I shrank back into the rear seat crying and feeling a deep resentment toward my dad, I saw a person's face clearly reflected in the window next to my fast-asleep sister. It was a middle-aged woman wearing a white kimono. Her eyes were wide as saucers, her mouth was gaping open, and she was staring intently at something. She was gazing right at my sleeping sister. Sensing something evil, the moment I braced myself to shoo her away—
"Sweetie, stay completely quiet," my grandmother warned me sternly. "Don't make a scene," my dad hissed, glaring at me through the rearview mirror. With that, the middle-aged woman smoothly pulled her face away from the window and disappeared down the hill.
"Grandma, just now..." I started to say, but my dad quietly reprimanded me. "Be quiet. Just sit quietly and wait for your mother."
By the way, when my mom finally came back out of breath, my dad wouldn't unlock the car doors for a while, which ended up starting a small argument between them.
As it turns out, my dad hadn't actually seen the woman in the white kimono. He said he saw my grandmother pointing at empty space and claiming my mom was there, and then noticed her glaring at something behind them while keeping a gentle tone in her voice, so he figured it was best not to make a scene. (Which is why he hit me when I tried to say something.)
Who on earth was that woman?
