Cloak and Dagger

Chapter 19

Never attempt to bribe a Shinigami. They don't all like apples. Kayo might have wanted to stop Ryuk and Light, but he didn't see why we had to do it in such a roundabout manner. So, coaxing from him the location of Naomi Misora's current resting place was... gruesome.

His favourite things to collect, if you didn't pick up from his necklaces, are pieces of dead things.

At least we got some precise co-ordinates.

"Hey, Ellen."

"Hnn?"

I blink, glancing at Matt out the corner of my eye. We're on the road to find the former FBI agent.

"Where have we heard the name before?" Matt asks. "Aokigahara."

"Long, long ago, it was kinda the method of abortion and euthanasia in Japan." I murmur. "Or the insane asylums of fifty years ago. Leave unwanted babies or sick, elderly people in the forest to die. As such, it's believed to be infested with yurei and yokai."

"Ghosts and demons?"

"Yep. Nowadays, it's the Golden Gate Bridge of Japan. There's an entire police force dedicated to finding any still-living wanderers or dead bodies. When they find a body, they take it back to their headquarters and draw straws, deciding which sap has to spend the night in the room with the corpse to appease them in death. Something to do with sending them off with some level of recognition that they didn't feel in life."

"Christ Almighty." Matt curses. "Do you believe in things like that?"

I feel the pressure in my fingers that turns my knuckles white. Matt places a hand over my own.

"I've seen too much to discredit it without proof." I confess.

"Okay." Matt nods.

"S'really all you're gonna say?"

"Yeah."

"You're beyond strange, Matt."

"I guess that's why we get along."

"It's a nice attempt at cheering me up, but... I feel like we're about to be shanghaied or something. Like we're walking into a trap."

"It's probably just that you're nervous about encountering some supernatural stuff at Aokigahara."

"Maybe."

I grab the bottle of filtered water from the cup holder between our seats, uncapping it and drinking deep. That feels a bit better.

"We're here."

Aokigahara, the Sea of Trees, a dense forest at the foot of Mt Fuji that's surrounded by a perpetual fog. The outside is surrounded several signs on the outside that read in Kanji, Katakana, Hiragana and English messages begging that those seeking their own end reconsider. A few metres away from where we park is the mouth of a path - yes, mouth is the perfect word, for entering the forest has an eerie resemblance to being swallowed whole.

As I slide a backpack onto my shoulders, Matt pulls out what was once a Gameboy Advance; a device that he's modified to track co-ordinates, weather, time and several other things that I couldn't quite commit to memory when he explained them. He pulls out the piece of paper which has Naomi's co-ordinates and name written upon it and takes the lead, his free hand holding my own so that we can't lose one another.

"I didn't expect this." Matt says softly, staring at the fluttering, tattered remains of many pieces of colourful tape; markers that the uncertain and fearful once used so that returning to a safe path would remain an option. More signs are, of course, set up around the path in a further attempt to deter those attempting to end their lives. Horrified chills shoot up my spine as I hear something that might be the sound of howling wolves.