Against the Current

I was invited to the town by the elders so that I could document an interesting phenomenon that had been occurring of late. It was mid-spring, but the cherry blossoms had yet to bloom in the village on account of it being an unusually cool spring this year. Despite this, the town was abuzz with activity.

The town was well-known for a particularly delicious breed of snow crab harvested from the nearby sea. Throughout each winter and spring, travelers would flock to the town in order to enjoy the town’s crab-based delicacies, beautiful scenery, and therapeutic hot spring baths. Though I had certainly heard about the town, it was my first time to visit, and I was hoping that I could squeeze in some recreation after my business concluded.

I was surprised to be met by the head of the town herself, Ms. Kimura, whom I recognized from the town’s official website. She stood outside one of the town’s seven main bathhouses with her secretary and translator, Mr. Nakano, who was the one that had been corresponding with me prior to today’s meeting. As Mr. Nakano introduced me to Ms. Kimura, I was struck by how youthful she appeared despite having recently celebrated her 80th birthday. She was also tiny – a trait that her grand kimono and high hairstyle made even more apparent.

She smiled and welcomed me warmly, asking if I had eaten yet.

I replied that I had eaten a lunchbox on the train ride, to which she shook her head vigorously.

“That will not do,” Mr. Nakano said, translating her words. “You must try some local food.”

My stomach growled at the words and Ms. Kimura laughed heartily, an act that made her seem all the more youthful.

***

We ate at a small noodle house in the main business district. Contrary to the modest mom-and-pop design of the interior, the place was bustling with customers – a generous mix of locals and out-of-towners. The flow of customers was quick, but even so we had to wait for around 20 minutes for a table. The food was well worth the wait. Indeed, it was perhaps the best bowl of noodles I have eaten to this day. The saltiness of the fish-based broth perfectly complemented the sweet, tender flesh of the crab toppings. The noodles themselves were delightfully undercooked, removed from the boil earlier so that they could retain a certain firmness that produced the most exquisite mouthfeel.

Temporarily forgetting my manners, I found myself lifting the bowl to my lips with both hands in order to slurp down the remainder of my soup. Over the rim of my bowl I made eye contact with Ms. Kimura and quickly put it back down, embarrassed. However, she smiled at me and lifted her own bowl to her lips, finishing her soup in a series of gulps.

With our meal finished, we left the busy restaurant and walked to the accommodation Mr. Nakano had arranged for me, nearer the outskirts of town. As we walked through the small town, I marveled at the beauty of its design.

A man-made canal ran through the entirety of the town, running parallel to the main concourse. Beautiful walking bridges ran across the cascading waters at regular intervals, connecting both sides for pedestrians. Trees lined both sides of the canal, currently devoid of leaves but soon to be covered in cherry blossoms, at which point they would color the town with pale pink hues.

Mr. Nakano explained that the canal ran from the nearby mountains, through the town, eventually connecting to the river, which served as the main source of the town’s water. When I asked about the hot springs, he explained that each of the baths in the town tapped directly into the natural geothermal water running deep below the ground, which is heated by subterranean volcanic activity. As it is heated, the hotter, less dense water rises through cracks in the earth and is channeled into the hot springs, carrying within it many natural minerals that are said to provide numerous health benefits to those that bathe in it.

I asked Mr. Nakano if he bathed in the hot springs often, to which he laughed and replied that all the townsfolk did on a nightly basis. I glanced at Ms. Kimura who was walking alongside us and smiling politely, though I was unsure if she was able to follow our conversation. Once again, I was struck by how young she appeared.

As we arrived at the inn in which I would be staying, Mr. Nakano explained that we still had a few hours until the phenomenon that I had been invited to observe would begin, and that I should take the time to relax inside and unwind after my long journey. He told me that, at the behest of Ms. Kimura, he had arranged for tea to be prepared and waiting in my room, as well as a casual yukata, which I was welcome to wear around town. Ms. Kimura and Mr. Nakano would pick me up from the inn just before twilight.

I thanked the two of them and made my way into the inn. The design of the inn was more modern than I had expected. My room maintained traditional features, such as tatami flooring and low tables, but these were combined with trendy flourishes in a way that gave the room a somewhat gentrified feeling. The wall of my room featured a black and white mural depicting a mountain landscape, with reeds in the foreground. Something about the mural, combined with the warm lighting and close quarters, made me instantly feel at ease, as if I were returning home from a long trip.

Slipping my shoes off, I sat down at the low table where there was indeed a pot of steaming tea prepared. I poured myself a cup and regarded the mural on the wall as I took a sip.

My eyes widened and I had to grip the cup with two hands in order to keep a hold of it, such was my surprise at the deliciousness of the tea. It was a simple roasted green tea, and yet I had never before tasted any tea that could rival it. Despite it still being quite hot, I finished the whole pot in a matter of minutes.

***

Later in the day, Ms. Kimura and Mr. Nakano took me to one of the beautiful foot bridges that crossed over the town’s canal. I was wearing the yukata and geta that had been provided for me. It was raining slightly, so I was also carrying an umbrella that I had borrowed from the inn’s supply and having a hard time navigating the wet asphalt while wearing the traditional shoes.

Despite the wet weather, there were a lot of people walking through the town, even more so than there had been in the fine daylight hours that I had arrived during. Everybody was wearing traditional clothing and carrying umbrellas; couples, singles, families, people of all walks. As the sun began to set, they seemed to congregate around the canal, taking up positions alongside the canal itself or across one of the many footbridges, as we had done. I made the assumption that whatever I had been brought here to see was going to happen along the canal.

And as twilight descended on the town, it did indeed happen. I followed the gaze of the many onlookers and watched as a green glow began approach us, heading up the canal from the river side. The green glow was not eerie, but carried a warm and ethereal quality, one that I had seen before. As the glow drew closer, I could see that it was actually emanating from below the water’s surface. On closer inspection, I could see what appeared to be koi fish glowing with otherworldly green light, swimming up the canal, against the current. There were countless numbers of them, so many that it was difficult to distinguish the individual bodies of the fish amidst the schools.

The fish swam under the bridge that we were standing on, and as they passed under us, everybody turned to follow their path up the canal, our faces illuminated from underneath by their green glow, our expressions a shared mixture of awe and excitement. We watched the glowing fish at the head of the school travel up the canal’s length until it was out of sight. And still, the seemingly unending supply of fish continued to move under us, turning the canal into a long, glowing line that cut across the length of the town. The movement of the fish against the current and the flow of the current itself seemed to cancel each other out, making the canal itself seem impossibly static.

As I continued to watch, the light of the fish began to fade. However, as the ethereal fish disappeared and the glow from the canal’s water faded, the skeletal trees growing alongside the canal began to glow. It was as if the green glow was being transferred into the trees, making it appear as if glowing leaves were growing on the bare branches. No, not leaves. Blossoms. Beautiful, iridescent, green blossoms were blooming on the trees. I saw many people who were standing close to the trees reach out to touch the blossoms, only for their fingers to go straight through the green light.

Then, the blossoms began to scatter. As if blown away by a strong breeze, the green fell from the branches of the leaves. Although with the size and color of the falling blossoms one could have been forgiven for mistaking them for swarms of fireflies, there was nothing urgent or menacing about their approach. They fell gently, as cherry blossoms would, and I found myself holding my face out in anticipation of their touch. But I felt nothing. Even as the glowing green blossoms fell into and through my body, I felt no warmth, nothing, as if they did not exist in the same space as me at all.

Then the blossoms were gone, fading into the nighttime air, like the flames of so many candles reaching the end of their wicks. The onlookers stood still for a moment after they had faded, then the electric streetlamps lining the canal turned on, and they move off to enjoy the rest of their night, chatting excitedly among themselves.

I asked Ms. Kimura how long this had been happening for, to which she replied that this had been the third night. She asked me for my thoughts.

I told her that I believed the fish that we had seen to be an ancient Guardian that was once called Ikaroa. However, the only recorded sighting of Ikaroa had been over 500 years ago, in a land far from here. Therefore, unlike many other Guardians, mankind had been unable to get a sense of any common migratory patterns Ikaroa might have. If it was indeed Ikaroa that we had seen, I predicted that this display would occur for seven nights in total.

Ms. Kimura asked if the light was harmful. I told her that I did not believe it to be, though like all Guardians, it was still unclear what their appearance signified exactly.

***

I stayed in town for the next four nights. During my stay in the town I was able to enjoy more delicious food and beverages. I even took the opportunity to bathe in each of the main bathhouses the town had to offer. However, I was not able to witness the blooming of the cherry blossoms, as the spring continued to be too cold for the trees to bloom.

On the fourth night, the green fish did not appear. I thanked Ms. Kimura and Mr. Nakano for inviting me and being so hospitable. Then I returned home to begin writing my report on the extraordinary phenomenon I had witnessed.