Kaleidoscope of Death

Ruan Nanzhu looked serious, like he wasn’t joking at all. He slowly placed the teru teru bōzu on a stone bench nearby, then undid the cotton string tied at the bottom of the white fabric. The string loosened and revealed the thing wrapped inside the cloth—Lin Qiushi saw a human head, white from soak.

The head seemed to have sat in water for a long time, the skin soaked the awful white of dead fish. Its eyes were staring wide in terror and disbelief, like they’d pop out of their sockets any minute.

When Ruan Nanzhu released his hold, the head rolled down the bench until it hit the wall with a thunk, and came to a stop.

Lin Qiushi looked at the head, and asked, “someone died?”

“Perhaps,” Ruan Nanzhu replied. “Have you heard the legend of the teru teru bōzu?”

Lin Qiushi, “yes, but only a bit.” He knew both Japan and Chinese folklore had this sort of thing, but that China’s “sunny day doll” or “rain-stopping girl” was a bit different from Japan’s teru teru bōzu.

Ruan Nanzhu spoke slowly, “in Japan, there’s a legend about the teru teru bōzu. A monk passing through a town told the townspeople that he could stop the rain. But as he read his sutras, the rain didn’t stop, so the angry townspeople chopped his head off, wrapped it in white cloth, and hung it up high… After that, the rain stopped.”

Lin Qiushi eyed that water-steeped head and sank into silence.

“There’s actually a Japanese folk song about the doll…” Ruan Nanzhu, softly, “Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu, make tomorrow a sunny day. Like the sky in my dream, if it’s sunny I’ll give you a golden bell. Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu, make tomorrow a sunny day. If you make my wish come true, we’ll drink lots of sweet sake. Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu, make tomorrow a sunny day. But if the clouds are still crying tomorrow, I’ll cut off your head.”

After Ruan Nanzhu finished reciting the rhyme, Lin Qiushi heard a sudden rush. He looked outside to the courtyard, and saw raindrops as big as peas falling from the sky. The rain became like a curtain, completely separating the yard from where the people were.

“So that’s what the head’s for,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “It really is a good weather doll.”

Because the doll was taken down, the cleared skies began to rain again in an instant. Lin Qiushi looked on, a bit exasperated, and said, “if we hang this thing back up, think we can salvage it?”

Ruan Nanzhu, “we can try.” So Ruan Nanzhu wrapped the head back up in the white cloth, tied back the cotton string, then returned it to where it had hung. As they predicted, once the head was hung back, it wasn’t long until the skies outside cleared once more. The thick storm clouds practically disappeared within moments.

“Interesting,” Ruan Nanzhu said, staring at the doll made from a human head.

“Let’s go see who’s died first,” Lin Qiushi said, glancing at his watch.

“Okay,” Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Then the two went to the dining hall.

Presently, almost everybody was eating inside the hall. Lin Qiushi saw Lin Xingping and her handful of friends. In just less than a day, she’d become good friends with Wang Ronghua, the newbie they’d just met. And Wang Ronghua already seemed to trust Lin Xingping most in this entire world.

Lin Xingping saw them come in and greeted them with enthusiasm, waving them over to eat.

Ruan Nanzhu plastered himself against Lin Qiushi natural as could be, cooing, “Linlin, my tummy’s grumbling.” If he’d been at his height outside the doors, this kind of flirting would definitely seem very discordant. But as it were, he’d shrunk a whole size in this door, so it wasn’t so hateful-looking.

So Lin Qiushi petted his head, saying, “come eat then, sweetie.”

Beaming, Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Cue Xueyi watched the two interact with disgust in his gaze, in all likelihood thinking foul faces really did bring foul fancy. After all, Lin Qiushi’s makeup from outside the door hadn’t disappeared inside, so the current him was still the uncomely man whom Cheng Qianli couldn’t even eat around.

The two found a random place to sit, and counted the people as they ate. Sure enough, they found that the original fourteen had become thirteen.

“Why is there a person missing?” Someone else had discovered this too. “Did someone not come yet? Are they still sleeping?”

“My… My roommate last night disappeared…” a man stammered from a corner. “He went out for something at midnight and never came back…”

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” The one asking was a woman, who grew angry at his answer. “Going out and wandering about in the middle of the night, he’s screwed, isn’t he.”

“I… I don’t know either. I warned him, but he said he heard something,” the man answered. “Who knew he wasn’t going to come back…”

The woman scoffed once, and said nothing further.

The dining hall also quieted, the crowd sinking into silence.

“Alright already, stop arguing, the two of you,” Lin Xingping said. “The NPC didn’t give us a time limit this time, and the rules ought to be pretty loose. Don’t be so nervous y'all, everything will work out.” She was actually pretty good-looking, with a gentle voice and a steady, capable aura. In times of mass panic, she placed herself as the leader, and easily won dominance over the group.

Of course, this was only in the lower level doors. Were this a high level door, no old-timer would even give Lin Xingping the time of day.

“Why don’t we take the opportunity to look around while the weather is good,” Lin Xingping said. “We haven’t been to the surrounding areas yet.”

“Yeah, let’s go together after we eat,” Cue Xueyi added beside her. “Working together to quickly find the clues and door—that’s the right way to go.”

So the group decided to head out after eating.

But when they got to the hallway, somebody discovered the oddly large teru teru bōzu hanging at the end of the hallway.

“What’s that?” someone asked from the crowd.

“A good weather doll?” Lin Xingping approached the doll. “Whoa, it’s huge…”

She got on tip-toes, seeming as if she wanted to take it down but wasn’t quite tall enough. “Someone get it down, let’s take a look.”

A person next to her went over and took the doll down for her.

Watching this play out, Lin Qiushi couldn’t help a brow flicking up. This Lin Xingping was sure smart. She didn’t know what the doll did, nor if it was okay to touch the dolls, but her actions seemed so natural that she easily fooled the people who were inexperienced with the doors.

The one who took down the doll was a man, and he discovered the odd weight immediately, expression changing as he stammered, “inside… seems to be a head…”

“A head?” The crowd’s expressions all changed. Lin Xingping affected fright as well. “O- Open it?”

The man who took down the doll carefully parted the white fabric once again, revealing that waterlogged, bloated human head within.

The group saw this, and sucked in a collective gasp of cold air.

The person who’d said his roommate never came back immediately ID’d the head. “Yeah, that’s him. After he went out last night he never came back.” And it seemed he never would.

“He’s sadly passed on, let’s bury him here,” Lin Xingping sadly announced. “Though this isn’t home, we can’t just let him keep hanging here.”

Some agreed, some didn’t speak. But in the end the group still dug a hole in the courtyard and buried the head.

What Lin Qiushi found odd was, he’d thought once the teru teru bōzu was taken down it’d start raining outside. But the sky was still high and bright, without a hint of rain at all.

Lin Qiushi was a bit confounded, but quickly recalled that when Ruan Nanzhu took down the doll, he seemed to have also recited a long rhyme. Lin Qiushi glanced over, and just happened to meet Ruan Nanzhu’s eyes.

Ruan Nanzhu leaned into Lin Qiushi’s arms, feeling light as a feather. He pressed his cheek to Lin Qiushi’s chest, and quietly said, “wouldn’t it be interesting if I recited it now?”

The doll had been taken down. If Ruan Nanzhu read that nursery rhyme now once more, perhaps that thundering shower would drench the entire yard. Not a single person presently in the courtyard would be spared, including the ones Lin Qiushi wanted revenge on: Cue Xueyi and his two teammates.

Lin Qiushi’s fingers played across Ruan Nanzhu’s hair. He watched the others, who were bent over in the courtyard digging a hole for their dead comrade, and ultimately shook his head.

At Lin Qiushi’s answer, Ruan Nanzhu laughed. He said, “Linlin’s my favorite.”

Lin Qiushi replied, “you’re my favorite too.” To have asked for his thoughts, and respected his input.

With the head buried, the group took a spin around town.

The town wasn’t big. There were some civilians walking on the streets, and the atmosphere was really quite nice. There were cherry blossoms planted everywhere. There was also a small park and a clear stream—point was, had this not been a world inside a door, living here could actually be quite comfortable.

Lin Qiushi had wanted to scope out a few more places, but at day-fall, the sky began to darken.

Fearing rain, he and Ruan Nanzhu returned to the courtyard early, and stood in the halls.

Sure enough, pea-sized raindrops tumbled from the sky soon after in a whole wash, once again enveloping the world in rain.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu got back early, and didn’t get rained on at all. A few, however, who returned late, were utterly drenched.

Lin Xingping had initially wanted to go around with Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu, but in the end couldn’t stand the sight of the ugly sticky twosome, and so excused herself halfway.

Ruan Nanzhu had even taken on a very understanding tone, saying, “Lin-jie ah, you’ve never been in love have you? Once you meet someone you like, you really can’t help yourself at all.” At this, he’d scooted close and landed a kiss on Lin Qiushi’s chin.

Lin Qiushi looked on in cooperative agreement.

Lin Xingping’s face had very clearly twitched, working hard to keep down some choice words. In the end she’d just said, “I still have a few places to scope out. You guys just relax.”

“Alright,” Ruan Nanzhu had said. “I want to talk with my Linlin some more.”

Lin Qiushi had said, “baby, let’s find a park…”

Then they’d watched Lin Xingping walk away out of pure disgust.

As she left, Lin Qiushi hadn’t been able to keep down his laugh anymore. “You’ve got a mean sense of humor.”

Ruan Nanzhu had scoffed, “and I thought she’d last longer. Want the truth? I kind of regret making you so ugly. Saying these words to that face is honestly pretty disgusting.”

Lin Qiushi, with an irreproachable expression, had thought wasn’t this face your doing… why is it my fault now…

Not long after they’d returned, it began to pour. Lin Qiushi watched the few who returned late rush in from the outside, drenched from head to toe.

“It really comes down at the drop of a hat,” someone was grumbling as he entered. He walked into the hallway, soaked body leaving a string of footprints on the wooden floorboards.

Lin Qiushi suddenly noticed that, when those people came in, the old man who’d led them that first day was silently standing in a corner. His eyes seemed to fall on the footprints on the floor, and linger. For some reason, that gaze made the hairs on the back of Lin Qiushi’s neck stand up.

“And they told us to bring umbrellas, where are there umbrellas? Seriously…” those people kept muttering as they entered their rooms, voice fading away.

Prior to going out though, they did in fact search the room for an umbrella, but couldn’t find one anywhere. Everybody had supposed that with the good weather, it wasn’t going to rain, and so had gone right out. Who knew that this rain was going to come so suddenly? Those unprepared were soaked to the bones.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu finished eating outside and returned to their room.

It was pouring outside again. Lin Qiushi sat on the bed with his head down, playing sudoku. Ruan Nanzhu sat at his side, seeming in thought.

Suddenly, he said, “I really think there’s something off.”

“What?” Lin Qiushi looked over.

“Typically, there’s always a time limit inside the doors. This door is too peaceful,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “It’s too strange.”

Lin Qiushi considered this carefully. Indeed, inside a door, there was usually a clear time limit. But this time, the NPC didn’t state a deadline. This was quite abnormal. He asked, “is there something we haven’t uncovered?”

“Probably,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “But it’s still the first day, there’s no need to rush.” Some rules needed to be time-tested. He currently had a guess, but it was only that—a guess.

But Lin Qiushi was remembering the children’s song he heard in the rain last night. He said, “I… Tonight I want to take a look outside…”

Ruan Nanzhu blinked. “Aren’t you scared? What if seeing them is the death condition?”

Lin Qiushi shook his head. “It probably isn’t. Since someone left their room last night, others must have heard the song too, but nothing happened to them.”

“There’s that logic, yes,” Ruan Nanzhu replied lazily. “Wake me then, and we’ll look together. If anything happens, at least we can back each other up.”

“Okay.” Lin Qiushi took Ruan Nanzhu’s good will.

The drumming rain, to Lin Qiushi with the acute hearing, was a very distressing thing. Even with Ruan Nanzhu lying at his side, it was still noisy enough to keep him from sleep. Ruan Nanzhu suggested he wadded up some paper to plug his ears, but Lin Qiushi declined.

“We’ll see after tonight,” Lin Qiushi said. “It won’t be good if I sleep through midnight.”

“Alright.” Ruan Nanzhu didn’t press either.

The two curled up in bed, Ruan Nanzhu quickly falling asleep. Lin Qiushi, on the other hand, half-dozed, and dreamt some bizarre dreams.

The dreams were messy and completely without logic. Lin Qiushi even dreamt for some reason of his own wedding, just that when he lifted the bride’s red veil, he found Ruan Nanzhu’s face underneath. When he saw Ruan Nanzhu’s face, Lin Qiushi instantly woke up from the dream. He was lightly panting, eyes staring wide at the night-steeped ceiling. By his ear was the faint sound of that children’s song again: wicker hole.… wicker hole… the bird in the cage…

Lin Qiushi sat up in bed and shook Ruan Nanzhu awake.

Ruan Nanzhu’s eyes opened, still with some remaining sleep. But this sleepiness quickly faded. He asked in a low voice, “it’s here?”

Lin Qiushi nodded, and pointed at the door.

Ruan Nanzhu, “let’s go.”

The two slowly moved to the wooden door, opening it just a crack. They saw the scene outside.

Because the night was dark, Lin Qiushi couldn’t see very clearly. He could only faintly tell that in the courtyard, a few children were hand-in-hand, turning in circles around something. Only after careful scrutiny did Lin Qiushi discover that what they’d surrounded was a trembling human.

“Kagome, kagome, the bird in the cage, when oh when will it come out, in the night of dawn, the crane and turtle slipped, who is behind you now?” …When the song came to an end, the children stopped. Their faces were pallid, swollen all over like bloating from water. They repeated that last line: “Who is behind you now?”

The person who was surrounded didn’t speak. Or maybe he did, and Lin Qiushi didn’t hear.

Then, he heard a light clunk. That person’s head and body were split, just like that.

The children giggled in their crystalline voices. They seemed very happy, chiming, “you’re it, you’re it.”

So that headless corpse slowly stood up, slowly turned. It took the spot of the kid behind it.

That was when Lin Qiushi noticed that another headless corpse was among them, and was currently holding hands with two children.

Those who were killed took the children’s places, and… became ghosts[1].

Everything finally became clear to Lin Qiushi.

The song once again started. The things in the yard spun in happy circles outward, until the rain blurred out their figures and Lin Qiushi’s view of them. But leaning against Lin Qiushi’s back, Ruan Nanzhu’s breaths suddenly sped up. He asked, “did you see that?”

“What?” Lin Qiushi didn’t understand.

“There.” Ruan Nanzhu pointed at a corner of the courtyard.

Lin Qiushi looked, but couldn’t see anything. The corner was just too dark. Though his vision was good, it was still at a normal person’s level, and couldn’t be compared to Ruan Nanzhu’s. “I can’t see…”

Ruan Nanzhu, “you can’t see?” His brow jumped. “Alright. Never mind if you can’t see it.”

“What is it?” Lin Qiushi asked.

Ruan Nanzhu, “it’s a person standing there with an umbrella.” He added, “seemed to be looking at us.”

Lin Qiushi, “…”

Ruan Nanzhu, “never mind, forget them. Let’s sleep, or it’ll be morning soon.”

“Okay,” Lin Qiushi nodded.

They closed the door and got back in bed. But just as they were about to sleep, they heard a bouncing noise outside the room.

This sound was familiar to Lin Qiushi, and his expression immediately changed. “I hear a ball.”

Ruan Nanzhu sat up in the bedding.

The rubber ball bounced against their doorframe with a thud. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu stayed still, but saw a tiny pair of hands pull open the door before them—just a crack. Then an eye, dark as pitch, appeared in that crack.

The young voice of a little girl came through. She asked, “have you seen my ball?”

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu answered.

And so the girl asked again: “have you seen my ball?” She pulled the door open a bit more. Lin Qiushi could see her face—it had half-rotted cheeks, with bleached bone teeth. She was drenched from head to toe, dripping a dark puddle on the floor.

“Have you seen…” the girl was about to repeat for the third time.

But Ruan Nanzhu opened his mouth. He said, “you’re getting the floor wet.”

The girl immediately froze, as if she’d heard something terrifying. Then she turned and disappeared from their doorway. Lin Qiushi heard the thudding again. That rubber ball, as if sentient, stopped right in their doorway. Then, a pair of small hands took that ball away.

Everything returned to their quiet.

“We can sleep now,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Sleep.”

“Mh.” Lin Qiushi got up and pulled the door shut. There was no lock on it; pulling it open was a matter of ease. But there was no safer place to sleep.

“Sleep.” Ruan Nanzhu curled up in Lin Qiushi’s arms.

Lin Qiushi gathered him up, feeling a curious peace. He stuffed his ears with paper wads, and his breathing very quickly evened out. The two sank into deep dreams.

Day two, Lin Qiushi woke with the sun high in the sky.

After waking, he saw Ruan Nanzhu with his head down playing on his phone. Lin Qiushi got up, asking dazedly, “what time is it?”

“Eleven,” Ruan Nanzhu answered. “Awake?”

Lin Qiushi jumped. “It’s so late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were too tired. Sleeping more is good,” Ruan Nanzhu said. “Get up then.”

Lin Qiushi nodded. As he got dressed, he heard Ruan Nanzhu supplement, “they found a new good weather doll. The head of the person who died last night was wrapped inside.”

This was well within Lin Qiushi’s predictions. After hearing this, he could only breathe a light sigh.

Translator’s Note:

1. There’s a double meaning here. The “it” in children’s games is called guǐ, or ghost/demon (oni in Japanese).