Asleep in Nara, Part 12 (Return to the Crossroads)

This entry, set in Nara, Japan, continues the story of Sebastian’s Faustian deal with the demon Persephone.

A quick synopsis for new readers (spoilers for previous chapters, obviously):

Sebastian, an embittered American studying abroad, has stumbled into a ten-year deal with Persephone, a crossroads demon. The terms are simple: she saved his life, and he owes her ten years of service killing other demons. Sebastian’s role is to assume the mantle of Charon, Hell’s hitman. Persephone hasn’t told Sebastian how she selects her targets or why.

Persephone’s weapon of choice, a katar, is cursed and demonic in origin. Death by the blade immediately sends a soul, including demons’ souls, to Hell. But there are rules, of course. A demon cannot kill with the katar, so a human wielder is necessary. That’s where Charon comes in.

While Sebastian is new to this role, Persephone has been at work for centuries. She was in Nara, Japan, on a vacation of sorts (whatever those look like for demons), and instead she recklessly got the previous Charon killed. His name was Ken, and he was more than just a partner to her.

Persephone, enraged, unbalanced, has been on an ill-advised killing spree. She bears no attachment to Sebastian and in fact resents him. He was a convenient means to an end: vengeance against the demon who killed Ken.

But Persephone’s bloodlust wasn’t sated. She learned that Ken’s ashes were interred by Inoue, a rich man living outside of Nara, and what’s more, the man was also a demon. In the process of the hunt, Sebastian, overcome by the call of the katar, tried to seize the weapon from Persephone. His palm was cut open, his knuckles broken, and his body set on fire.

Sebastian survived and found Persephone by the murdered Inoue as she mourned at Ken’s grave. Sebastian had the opportunity to kill Persephone, but in her time of mourning, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He turned and walked away, leaving the katar behind.

I’ve known the story was heading here for a while now. I don’t know yet if this is the penultimate chapter or possibly the one before, but the tale is drawing to a close.

Again, I have a particular song in mind to accompany this chapter, but this time it spans the whole chapter. I’ll include a link close to the beginning of the chapter.

As always, you can find the previous chapters here:
Part 1 (Meet Sebastian Pilgrim)
Part 2 (A Flirting Fail)
Part 3 (The Nameless Dead)
Part 4 (The Hunt)
Part 5 (A Fine Night for Murder)
Part 6 (Death and Rebirth)
Part 7 (Devil’s in the Details)
Part 8 (Habits, Old and New)
Part 9 (Adrift)
Part 10 (Went Down to the Crossroads)
Part 11 (Crossing and Dwelling)

Sebastian trudged back to his dorm. He paused but briefly in the crossroads Persephone had led him through on the way to Inoue’s home. Despite the absolute stillness of the night, somehow the wind still whispered through the bamboo thicket surrounding him. He made a mental note and moved on.

["Waste"]

Bitterness and regret were already seeping in.

Back at the konbini, Sebastian purchased bandages for his injured hand and another twelve packs of smokes. He spent the night lost in the rabbit hole of research again, comforted only by the harsh glow of the computer screen.

Persephone didn’t come around for a day, for days, for a week. Good riddance, Sebastian thought. The next time he saw her, it would be on his terms. He regretted not killing her when he had the chance. He wondered if that would have been enough to break his deal, or if there were some demonic loophole that would suck him right back in, or maybe into an even worse arrangement.

Sebastian made appearances at class, but he wasn’t completing his work. Several professors reached out to figure out what was wrong with him. Most assumed it was just homesickness or maybe some delayed sort of culture shock. Sebastian gave them little information to work with. There was nothing they could do for him; he had to solve this one on his own.

He had been scouring articles on the Internet for a week, and finally, he thought he had found something crucial. He was most of the way through reading the passage, mere moments away from that final piece of knowledge that would solve his plight.

A Skype call from his mother interrupted his reading. Sebastian hadn’t spoken with her in two weeks. Irritated, Sebastian answered.

The first five minutes of the call were occupied by Sebastian pretending his webcam wasn’t working. He didn’t want his mother to see his disheveled hair, the dark circles stretching from his eyes to cheeks, or that distant stare he slipped into as his mind became constantly distracted by schemes for finagling his way out of this deal.

He ended the call rudely, abruptly, citing a need to return to homework. His mother was upset, but didn’t protest much. She let him go.

Once he hung up, Sebastian voraciously read the last few passages he needed: the secret to his salvation. For the last few days, he had been gathering supplies, sneaking into the chemistry lab to retrieve some of the more obscure ingredients.

The last ingredient was his own blood. He scoffed as he eyed the bloody bandages he hadn’t bothered disposing of. They heaped up out of the trash can. Sebastian retrieved the items he would need, placed them in a backpack, and headed for the door.

At the last moment, he doubled back to grab a pack of cigarettes. He knew how much they annoyed Persephone. If tonight didn’t turn out like he hoped, then maybe he would at least get the satisfaction of irritating her. What he didn’t admit to himself was how hopelessly addicted he was.

Before he turned to leave, though, his mother sent another Skype call. Not now, Mom. I’m so close. He shut his computer down and ignored the notifications on his phone. His work was nearly finished.

An hour later, Sebastian paced to the exact center of the crossroads he and Persephone had found the week before. That eerie wind whipped through the bamboo. He faced north, his eyes following the upward slope of the path. In the southwestern corner, where the bamboo wasn’t quite so thick, he dropped his pack. Sebastian grabbed a dead piece of bamboo and set to his task.

He had images on his phone for reference, but the work was slow. It took a number of attempts, but finally, he completed the basic outline of a circle in the center of the crossroads. It wasn’t a perfect geometrical shape, but hopefully it would suffice. He copied the necessary cross-patterns and pentagrams inside the circle. In each segment, Sebastian filled in the appropriate symbols, double-checking, triple-checking his work.

When he was satisfied he had drawn the devil’s trap correctly, he dug a hole in its center and opened up the small tin box he had brought. In it, Sebastian placed a sample of sulfur from the chem lab, a few spices needed for hot foot powder, a bloodied bandage, and a picture of himself and his grandfather. The last one had been the hardest item to get. It was a cheap print, not photo quality, but Sebastian thought it would do.

Sebastian closed the lid of the tin, placed the tiny box into the hole, and buried it under the devil’s trap. He stood up and took a few steps back. He wasn’t sure if there were words he was supposed to say or not. He couldn’t find any definitive directions on the Internet. So he stood there and waited.

After a few minutes, he pictured Persephone’s face, the streaks of blue she had kept in her hair, her sinister smirk. He closed his eyes and imagined her standing there with the katar.

When still nothing happened, with eyes shut tight, he whispered her name. Nothing. He listened to his own breathing, waiting to hear Persephone’s angry voice.

He opened his eyes and checked the devil’s trap. Still empty.

“Goddamn it,” he said aloud. “Come on, Persephone.”

If he could just get the words right, just get the magic right, then he could trap her there, and he could force her to set him free. If she didn’t comply, he could threaten to leave her stuck in that devil’s trap for all eternity. He didn’t necessarily want to kill her. He wasn’t even sure he could or if it would break the terms of the deal, but if it came down to it, he would do whatever was necessary. He was not going home empty-handed.

“Persephone…” he growled and closed his eyes once more.

Sliding in and out between swaying stalks of bamboo, the wind whispered her name back to him. Peeking occasionally at the empty devil’s trap, Sebastian waited for her to appear.

In the distance, at the top of the northern path, a figure appeared. Sebastian didn’t notice at first. He didn’t see its advance, but he heard its voice and mistook its wara wara calls for the sound of the wind.

***[The photo is my own, taken along the entryway to Wakamiya Shrine in Nara Park]