Hokuto's sister, born six years after him, lives with the small stone statue at the graveyard.
That's a simplification of course, he knows it now that he's older. But that's what his parents told him and his older brother after their sister was stillborn. He was very small back then, but he remembers that morning well.
-
When Hokuto saw the new baby for the first time, she looked like she was asleep. She didn't move, and she didn't cry at all either, even though his mother had said she would. His mother, father, and grandmother cried a lot instead. His brother cried, too. But Hokuto didn't.
Obviously he became sad when he, sitting down next to his mother to look at the unmoving baby and marvel at its tiny features, was told he could never carry the new sister on his shoulders like his father sometimes carried him, or that he would never be able to play with her. The overall sadness of his family members was upsetting as well. But his baby sister seemed alright, so he didn't see the point of such deep mourning.
He soon learned that she was, in fact, not alright at all. That she was dead. Which, Hokuto knew, meant that she would never move, never open her eyes, never make any sounds.
The thing was, her spirit made an awful lot of sound.
It started crying sometime in the evening when Hokuto’s mother gently wrapped the small body into a new, clean cloth, and the sound of her wails bothered Hokuto even after his father, tears streaming on his cheeks, lifted her into a simple wooden box he had made during the day. Hokuto covered his ears and fled behind the house, where he caught the old family cat into his arms and pressed his face into its soft fur. His heart ached for the baby - she was probably scared in the confined box.
The next day, his mother dressed them all up into their best clothes and the five of them walked through the village, over to the temple. His father carried the box in which the baby’s spirit still screamed. Hokuto was grumpy and couldn’t stop yawning. He would have stumbled to his face many times along the path, had his hand not been held tightly in his grandmother's hand. He had barely been able to sleep at all the past night. His sister was lonely and cold and she needed her family, Hokuto knew she did.
The burial ceremony was simple and quick. Hokuto knew how it went; after all they just had his grandfather buried a month ago. They would go to the temple where the baby's box would be lit on fire and burned until only some pieces of bones would be left. Last time, the monk at the temple gave them a block of wood with his grandfather’s name carved on it. This time though, they got a small stone statue that looked like a cute, gently smiling monk. The stone monk presented the deity that protected dead babies like Hokuto’s sister, he was told.
The deity knew what they were doing, Hokuto decided when rotating the statue around in his hands. He knew it, because his sister stopped crying as soon as she was left to their care. Now, she was cooing quietly, and giggled when Hokuto petted the stone statue’s head. The only thing that troubled him was that when they left home, they had to leave her along with the statue to the edge of the graveyard with dozens of similar statues of varying sizes. But she would be fine with the deity, and Hokuto decided he’d come see her as often as he could. He knew the way now.
Another thing that Hokuto learned very quickly was that he shouldn’t talk much about his sister to other people. It tended to upset his family, and his older brother was angry at him if he made mother and father cry.
"Don't be stupid, Hokuto," his brother snapped with all the might of a nine-year-old. "The baby is dead. You can't hear her!"
"But I can!" Hokuto insisted, angry tears in his eyes, too. "I can hear her!"
For the whole summer, whenever his mother sent him off to run some errands or to play with his friends, he always made a detour through the graveyard just to say hi to his sister, to make sure she was fine. To his relief she seemed to be doing great with all the other baby spirits protected by stone monks. His sister’s monk now had a cute red bib and a red hat that his mother made one day, saying they would keep her warm and ward off evil.
The spirits even had some kind of a game, Hokuto found out one day when he sat down quietly next to the statues and concentrated on listening to the sounds the little spirits made. They were making small piles of stone. Invisible stones, of course, and he couldn’t exactly see them but he knew anyway. And since living people had built such piles near the statues as well, so did Hokuto. Carefully searching the prettiest stones he could find, he built a pile of his own in front of the statue of his sister.
The following autumn was an uncomfortable one. Hokuto’s mother was still sad, and it somehow made their whole home a gloomy place. Hokuto preferred to wander off on his own or with his brother rather than spending much time home where mother did her chores and cried many times a day. Seasons passed, and over time they all got used to it. Hokuto still remembered a time when his mother used to laugh more than cry, but the memory got more and more vague as years went on.
-
Hokuto’s grandmother passes away around the last snowy days of Hokuto’s thirteenth year. One night a week later, he overhears his parents talking quietly when they think both boys are asleep. He slowly, soundlessly moves aside the corner of his blanket so he can peek through his eyelids and see his parents sitting over by the fire. It's dark, and his mother has covered her face with her hands, but he hears her tears in her voice.
“I can’t stay,” his mother sobs. “I know I wanted us to live here. But my parents are dead, and my baby is dead, and I can’t stop thinking about death every single day and it’s making me go out of my mind. It’s hurting the boys too. I’ve been a terrible mother ever since we lost the baby. They need me to be stronger but I can’t. Do you think your parents would still take us to live with them?”
Hokuto’s father’s voice is sad but gentle when he takes mother’s hand and squeezes it.
“They’ll accept us with open arms. If you want us to go, we will.”
During the morning meal Hokuto’s father tells him and his brother that they will be moving over to his parents, to the Midorigawa village that’s located far over the mountains. Hokuto simply nods. He knows his mother needs to get away, and he really doesn’t mind. He’s got some friends here but none of them are close enough that he would be too sad about leaving them. His brother is clearly finding the thought of moving away much harder, but with the graceful way he accepts the news, Hokuto thinks that maybe he was secretly awake last night, too.
Once it’s all decided, their belongings are packed up fast. When running to the village to rent a horse, a carriage, and a driver, Hokuto makes a point of stopping by at the graveyard. The flowers on his grandparents’ grave have wilted but the tombstone is still clean after his grandmother’s burial. He goes to pay his respects to the grandparents first, but then he heads to the stone statues.
The long row of statues stands there quietly, peacefully, like it always has. These days, Hokuto can sometimes see flashes of the spirits in addition to hearing them. Each one of them diligently carries stones into the piles that evil spirits grumble down every night. It's not a game, he has learned over the years. Children shouldn't pass away before their parents, so the baby spirits can't cross the river to afterlife. They never had time to gather any merit in life either, so now they must do it in death, collecting piles of stone until the death of their parents. Only then can the baby spirits go on as well.
“I’m not gonna leave you alone here,” he murmurs when he picks up his sister’s weathered statue and puts it into his pocket. The statue weighs heavily when he walks home, like she’s confused and a little discontent about being carried around like this.
As expected, his paternal grandparents are surprised but absolutely delighted to receive their son’s family when the four of them arrive at their doorstep a week later. They are a miserable party, worn out by traveling and a still-fresh pain of loss, but it’s good to see mother perk up at meeting her mother-in-law for the first time in years.
The next day the whole family visits the village shrine where they will announce their arrival to the resident deities.
After the formalities the two priests maintaining the shrine greet them with warmth, welcoming Hokuto’s father back home along with his family. They are very old and very friendly, both are bald, but one of them has a long beard. They remember Hokuto's father well, even though almost eighteen years have passed since he married mother and they moved to her hometown. While they talk, Hokuto looks around. He likes the shrine. It’s beautiful and well-kept, and he senses the spirits don’t mind their arrival.
Suddenly, he gets a weird feeling of being watched by actual living people. It takes a moment of him to locate the four boys, more or less around Hokuto’s age, that have gathered across the yard at the doorway of what he supposes is a stable for horses. They’re staring at him weirdly, as if they are expecting something interesting to happen. They are dressed the same way as the two old priests, but that’s secondary to Hokuto. He already knows the boys live here, because the spirits dwelling around the shrine grounds treat them like family: some ignoring them, some floating and playing around them.
Being stared at so intensively makes him feel nervous. Wondering if his sister feels as reticent as he does, he secretly puts a hand in his pocket to grip the small stone monk, wanting to equally give and receive encouragement. They are strangers here, after all.
At his touch on the statue his sister’s spirit emits a confused wave of soothing curiosity towards their surroundings.
The long bearded-priest stops talking mid-sentence as he turns his kind yet sharply narrowed eyes towards Hokuto. Everyone else looks at them, puzzled, as the priest keeps the eye contact for a long time before speaking.
“You mean good, son. But some burdens cannot be shared.”
“What does he mean?” Hokuto’s brother leans in to whisper, but Hokuto quickly drops the statue to the bottom of his pocket and lets his hands hang free, shaking his head.
“I think you do know,” the priest points out and both brothers flinch, not having realized the man could hear them so well. “And I think you should come to see me again once you've properly settled down at your grandparents' home. There is a lot I could teach you, young man.”
Hokuto’s parents look at each other questioningly. His brother raises his brows, nonplussed. The other priest smiles. The boys at the stable door exchange victorious looks, like their patience has been somehow rewarded. Their smiles are really the only thing that eases the new discomfort that grips Hokuto’s heart.
He will obey the priest of course, but he isn’t so sure he wants to. He has an uncomfortable feeling that the priest knows more than he lets show.
"Yes, sir," he murmurs with a stiff bow.