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As summer came to a close, the autumn equinox was only slowly creeping up from its dormant state. Two weeks before the date—this year it fell on the 22nd of September—only in Hokkaido, up north, would one already see the deep red leaves falling gracefully. But, in Shimane Prefecture, only a slight yellow hue was seen in some leaves, which were still attached to their trees. Therefore, no 'crunch' was heard when three men—who seemed to be in their twenties and were dressed in school uniform—crossed the shrine's rusted torii gate. This, in fact, signals the crossing over of the threshold that separates the mundane from the sacred. Next to the torii was a plaque that read 'Atago Shrine'. The first two stone lions, just ahead the torii, welcomed them warmly, but the men rushed past them and proceeded to ascend up the stairs which made up the sandō, the path which guides one further into the shrine. Swoosh! The chōzuya, a water basin where one cleanses their body and mind, was overlooked. Some water drops fell to the ground, but not from the basin, rather, from the wooden bucket they were carrying in such a rush.
The shrine and the kami residing inside the honden (the main hall), watching through the guardians' eyes, felt overjoyed at first, but gradually came to understand that these men had no respect for their sacred place. The kami feared the worst now. Only a handful of visitors came in every year compared to other shrines, and its state, both physically and mentally, wasn't the best. It wouldn't be able to deal with intruders or vandals. There were two more stone lion guards, this time smaller, who with their eyes followed the wooden bucket as it was placed onto the ground just in the middle of them. In front of it was the haiden (the oratory), made entirely of wood. Some sun rays who trespassed the tall trees beside it shone upon it from a side. Outside the sacred, in the mundane Matsue City, the streets were bustling with boys and girls who were just getting out of school; but inside the shrine, calm ruled... until the men placed a shimenawa (rope used for purification) around the bucket and started chanting. The two shide (zig-zag paper streamer) that hung from the haiden's gabled roof wobbled intensely as if moved by a supernatural force. Inside the bucket, now the lions saw clearly, was a figurine made of wood that they couldn't quite recognise. The chant went on and on as the three men joined hands and danced around the bucket.
Clunk! Suddenly the bucket fell, and the water spilt and reached the haiden's first step. The figurine rolled and was now outside the bucket. At the same moment, as if synchronised, one of the shide fell on the spilt water. A lightning—concentrated purely on the figurine—struck, but no thunder was heard. The figurine started growing steadily, taking in human form. The kami residing inside the shrine harboured no doubts now: that figurine was the yorishiro, or rather now, the shintai: the sacred body of the kami. But, the kami wondered, what kind of powerful kami was it that it could be resurrected with a mere chant and from a mere figurine? Such things required abilities far beyond mere humans', abilities possessed, as far as he knew, only by kami as powerful as the Kotoamatsukami, the Distinguising Heavenly Kami, or the Kamiyonanayo, the Seven Generations. But everyone's minds, even this kami's, came to a halt when the figurine was wholly reconstructed. The three men lay on the floor, apparently unconscious. The kami's thoughts could not longer be heard. A red-haired woman had emerged from the figurine.
The woman, confused, looked around. All she saw were trees and the shrine. But it was a shrine she did not recognise. Or rather, she didn't even know who she was, why she was here. But as if by a deeply ingrained warrior instinct, the first thing she did was run towards the trees on her left, passing through the small trees. She tripped on a rock and fell towards concrete, but managed to catch herself, do a somersault, and get up. She jumped above a fence and slowly started to walk, squinting for a castle in the distance. But her eyes couldn't move, as they were fixed on... some kind of shiny black... something. She didn't know what it was. She also noticed that the buildings were made of... not-wood. The streets, indeed, were narrow as always... but where was all the hay, the thatches, all the wood? She saw a person, a girl. Her clothing was unusual, but if she wasn't armed and didn't seem hostile, just ambling there... so she decided to approach her. She walked up, stepped in front of the girl, and pronounced: "Greetings! I am... disregard that!" the woman shouted as she couldn't seem to remember her own name. "Where is the main castle? Who is the daimyō here? We are currently in the Antei Era, is that not a fact? Why have I woken at the Hour of the Rooster and not the Hour of the Rabbit?" Apart from her attire, the woman noticed the girl's hair was short, which was unheard of in the current era... but the woman paid no heed, as her, too, had cut her hair short in defiance of her elders.
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