The Promotion (part 2)

The last day before the office had left for New Year’s, Mr. Kondo had been particularly vile. Poor Kanna had had the misfortune to have a computer problem, as they were filing the end of year reports. He’d slapped her, twice. 

After they filed out at roughly one am, long past their working time, he had stood holding the door. He sneered at each woman in particular, evidently enjoying their fear as they had to brush past him to leave the building. 

When Miho had passed, he grabbed her ass hard. It hurt. She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at his eyes. She wanted to die instead of ever doing this again. 

“Don’t forget to bring me something nice this time,” He whispered in her ear, before releasing his grip and pushing her out into the street. 

She turned around to watch for Kanna. He let her pass by without talking, but did make her wait as he looked at the massive red mark on her face. 

Kanna tripped over her own feet to leave, reaching out for Miho. Miho grabbed her hands, and pulled her close. 

They were the last to leave the office, joining their six female companions on their train rides home. 

After purchasing her goods, Miho followed her instructions back home to the human world carefully. But now, it was with more calm. She felt… secure, in a way she hadn’t felt in years. 

The omamori in her pocket receded in heat as she got farther away from the spirit world. 

She hadn’t even had to use the ofuda in her other pockets. That was a lucky thing. But they would also protect her from anything following her home. 

The box of treats sat on her lap. She politely took up no extra space, as more and more actual humans began to board the train. She nearly fell asleep once- but shocked herself out of it. She didn’t want to get stuck. 

The train was actually getting crowded. People were waking up and going out. Seven days after New Year’s, that was normal. You had to spend at least the first few days with no one but your family. But as the days drug on and you had less and less to talk about, people started to make plans with old hometown friends. 

Miho had spent every day attending to her task. Every morning, she showered, dried her hair, and went to a shrine of the shichifukujin. She bought ofuda, she cleansed, she prayed. 

While she was doing this, her friends did the same. They had each sought out “power spots” and particular temples and shrines for their protective charms, for blessings. 

And for luck. 

Miho stared down at the package. 

A stop or two before her 5th change, someone took the seat right next to her. Miho looked through the long, dark strands of her hair. 

A woman with long, dark hair, in kimono. That was odd. It wasn’t normally a time that required formal dress. 

The woman didn’t speak. That was normal. 

Something felt wrong. 

Miho gradually realized that she was becoming colder. And colder. She started to shiver. 

The woman turned, slightly. Her smile was sharp.

Oh, no. 

She gripped the omamori in her pocket. It was blazing hot. Miho kept it in her pocket, but moved the tiny spear in the direction of the yukionna. If she touched her, Miho was gonna stab the shit out of her. 

She had no idea if it would do any good, though. Maybe the ofuda- but the car was doubtless still filled with yokai as well. Drawing attention to herself was worse. At least now she was only maybe being hunted by one. She didn’t want to be the corpse they played tug of war with. 

Miho slipped her left hand into its pocket, feeling out an ofuda. One called to her- she didn’t know what that meant, but she knew what it felt. She slipped it out, wrinkling it in her hand. It looked like a receipt. 

The yukionna was still staring at her, obviously amused and predatory. 

Miho had signed up for this, but also- she had not signed up for this. No one had ever said yukionna also attacked women. That was a man thing. Men were stupid enough to go to fuck strange women in snowstorms. 

Then again, they’d never said they had teeth that sharp, either. 

Maybe it wasn’t just a yukionna, but something more. 

Miho carefully held back the shudder of fear, knowing the yokai would see it as confirmation that she was human and good prey. 

She felt sick to her stomach- but the omamori in her pocket was somehow keeping her warm. 

If she got out of this, she would swear undying allegiance to Bishamonten for saving her worthless life. 

She stood up slowly at her stop, trying not to look panicked. The yokai had apparently lost interest, instead staring out the window opposite. 

Miho left the car with confidence she no longer had, but was forced to feign. This was change number 5. Two more, and she was home free. 

Probably. She needed to have her home blessed after this. 

She didn’t note any yokai taking interest in her after that- but placed folded ofuda on the seats next to hers, just in case. 

It was somehow early evening now. The sky was lightening in the way that it looked more blue with every station, but darkening with dusk. It was eerie- she hadn’t known it would take that long. 

She got off at her seventh and final stop. 

Miho looked around, rubbing her omamori. It felt like nothing now- no warmth, no vibration. Just like it had in her world when she had bought it. 

The sky was blue, though the sun was setting. There were no longer any shadows on the edges of her vision.

She went into the bathroom and threw up. 

After she cleaned herself up and cleaned off her gory makeup, Miho put the colored contacts and makeup in a paper bag with two ofuda on the outside. 

She went to the lockers for a change of clothes, and changed again in the bathrooms. She removed the wig she had been wearing over her real, light brown hair. It all went into the bag. 

Her next stop was also planned- a major shrine, in the middle of Tokyo. 

The fires were burning hot and bright- she passed her bag to a priest for blessing and cremation. He took the package with a happy smile. 

Miho prayed yet again, her second time in a day. 

She returned to the closest station, where she’d left her parcel in the lockers with ofuda on top. 

She looked around as she exited- neither seeing any yokai or any of her friends. It was likely they’d gone back to their meeting place to wait and see if she ever came back. 

Miho looked at the train station gate and considered. She would get there faster if she took the train. 

She remembered the feeling of ice running in her veins. 

Miho elected to take the bus.

The city was full of grey sludge instead of picturesque white snow. It looked awful, as did the ill-maintained buildings that filled the city.

Nothing gleamed here. That was something the tourists said. 

Miho arrived at the bar about thirty minutes later, exhausted and cold. She held her prize with both hands. 

Just as she’d expected, all seven of them were there- Hana, Himari, Akari, Kanna, Yui, Niko, and Hinata. All were at a booth, nursing drinks. 

“Hey,” she greeted tiredly, holding out the box for their evaluation. 

“You really got it?!” Akari looked shocked. “I didn’t…”

Kanna nodded. “We thought something had got you.”

Miho couldn’t bear to smile about that. “It was closer than I would have liked.” 

Niko stood up, holding out her hands. “Here, I want to see it for myself. You sure you got the right one?”

“Very.” Miho said, feeling all the energy sap out of her. She flopped into a seat in the booth. “If you don’t mind, I would like a drink.”

They ogled at it for a while, then elected to place several more ofuda on it and put it in Miho’s purse. 

The night rolled by, and Miho stumbled into her mother’s apartment hours later, alone. She placed an ofuda on the door, and one on her childhood bed. 

She was taking no chances. 

She slept the best sleep she’d had since university, a deep slumber with no dreams or nightmares.

Miho gathered her things in the morning, packing all her omiyage carefully in her luggage. 

“Are you sure you want to go back today?” Her mother asked, frowning. “You normally stay for two weeks.”

Miho smiled wanly. “This year, we’re behind on reports. I couldn’t get two weeks off.” 

This was also true, but Miho didn’t want to linger here after yesterday, either. 

She rode the shinkansen back, but avoided the local lines. It might take a while before she felt okay with those again. If the spirit world was really that close…

She breathed in, trying to steady herself. Miho had done what was considered impossible, and lived. She should be grateful.

The next Monday, she placed her omiyage on her coworkers’ desks directly, as she had begun to do after her first year. She removed the ofuda, and put the prized omiyage from the spirit world directly on Mr. Kondo’s desk. It overlooked the entire room. She looked at her own desk from his. It was so close.

She swallowed her spit. 

She was in her desk on time. Kanna had prepared the morning tea, which was also not her job. The office was tense. 

Mr. Kondo walked in at nine, obviously already angry. 

The tension in the room made it hard to breathe. Miho silently breathed out of her mouth, and held her own hands under her desk. She did not look at her friends or coworkers.

Her computer was on, and ready. Her files were on her desk. She was ready to work. 

“What’s this?” Mr. Kondo fumed, looking at the pile of presents on his desk. “Some of you are really cheap, you know that?” He walked up and down the rows, breathing down at them. 

Miho thought she heard someone swallow a whimper. 

“You should be more grateful.” He said, into Mr. Kaneda’s face. Poor man. He was actually even younger than Miho. 

And she didn’t even know his first name. 

Mr. Kaneda shuddered visibly, which was evidently the reaction Mr. Kondo wanted. He sneered in pleasure before stalking back to his desk. 

He lifted Miho’s box, and made an approving sound. 

“Looks like you got the message, Miss Takeda.” He said, turning to stare at her. She looked up. 

He made uncomfortable eye contact, before raising the box to her. More bile rose in her throat. She thought she might pass out from the stress. 

But his attention shifted. His will was evidently temporarily appeased. 

She felt dirty. And also unimpressed- banana filling tasted disgusting to her. She didn’t understand why everyone liked it so much.

The day went by uneventfully from that point- they worked and worked. She left the building after midnight and practically crawled home. 

The ofuda on her door was peeling. Miho immediately went inside and found more, plastering it on the inside of her door. If anyone ever happened to see, she’d tell them she’d started being religious. 

It was true, in a way. In the morning, she was going to a shrine for Bishamonten yet again to thank him.

After her shrine visit, she went into work as usual. She was there early as usual, as were her friends. 

None of them said what they were all thinking. 

In the office, Miho looked at her boss’ desk. The box was gone. That was… good?

But nine came and went, and Mr. Kondo didn’t appear. 

He wasn’t there by lunch, and he didn’t show by their scheduled leaving time. 

The office left at six, staying only an hour late. If there was no one to scream at them, no one seemed to want to walk home alone at night.

The next day, it was the same. 

Miho stared at Mr. Kondo’s desk, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. She’d given him bad luck, but she hadn’t anticipated anything would happen so quickly. She looked into her desk drawer, where an ofuda was resting. 

By lunch, the office had started to feel confident enough to gossip. A few of the older workers proposed he’d gotten the flu. Or that he’d sprained his ankle kicking a puppy. 

No one laughed. 

Everyone wondered. 

She had picked her nails clean, barely able to focus on her work. The empty desk seemed to accuse her. She had been a bad person. A bad employee. 

Maybe he had been right all along. Maybe she had made a massive mistake. 

After lunch, there was a call to the office. Hinata took it, as was her normal duty. 

What was less normal was her dropping the phone. Miho looked up. 

Hinata’s face was entirely devoid of color. Her mouth was opening and closing, but only labored breathing was coming out. Her eyes were wide and blank. 

She seemed to recover after a minute or so, and thanked whoever was on the line for their call. Then she went into the bathroom and didn’t come out. 

After ten minutes, Kanna went in to check on her. She didn’t come out either. 

Miho grabbed a tampon from her desk drawer for instant male explanation and slipped into the bathroom. Once she opened the door, she could hear her friends talking in hushed voices. 

“Kanna? Hinata?” She called out softly, hoping no one outside the bathroom would hear. “Are you all right?”

The stall door at the end opened, and Kanna beckoned her in. 

They looked at her miserably. Hinata had obviously been weeping. Her eyes were red, her chest was heaving. 

Kanna looked at Miho. 

“She got a call about Mr. Kondo.” Kanna whispered. Her voice was wavering. “He’s… dead.”

Miho felt as if she’d been hit by a truck. All the air from her body fled, leaving her body a falling lump. She collapsed to the floor. 

Luckily, there wasn’t enough room for her to hit her head on the cement floor. 

“And his family.” Hinata croaked. “They said he… he killed them all.”

“No.” Miho moaned. “No no no. no.”

“Yes.” Kanna said. Her face was tinged with green. “His parents, his wife’s mother…. His children.”

Miho couldn’t move. Her mouth tasted of copper. 

“The news said that he killed them all, then himself.” Hinata was back to crying. “He did it right after he left here on Monday. They didn’t find them until yesterday.”

“We didn’t do that.” Miho pled. “We have no idea why he would do that. He was a violent person.”

“But we don’t know that he would have done it if…” Kanna stopped herself. Even saying it out loud was too gruesome. 

“We will never know.” Hinata whimpered. “It could have been us. We killed all those people.”

“NO.” Miho said, a little too loudly. She forced herself to adjust her tone. “Don’t say that. We didn’t make him do anything.” She pulled herself up to her feet, and held her hand out to Hinata. 

“We just don’t have an abuser for a boss anymore.”

That had been the goal, hadn’t it? To remove him- she had been hoping through incompetence, or just that it would be better than doing nothing. She had had no idea that it would actually work. 

But that was a lie. 

She had thought it wouldn’t work before she’d boarded that train. By the time she’d bought it, she knew. 

She didn’t know that he would kill his entire family, but she knew something would happen. She’d done it anyway. Miho wasn’t even sure she regretted it. 

They walked out  together, a united front of women on the brink of madness. 

On the desks, there were omiyage. Little yellow cakes, oblong in shape. 

Miho's stomach twisted. Her body froze. 

She looked up. 

By Mr. Kondo's desk, there was a person. A woman, beautiful and tall. 

With overly sharp teeth.