Bethel Anime Club

Episode 17 and 18 Synopses:

Episode 17 (“The Hollow Cocoon Picker”): Ginko’s got mail, and thus we finally get to see the inside of that huge square box of his: it’s full of small drawers, and in one of these drawers is a smooth egg-like cocoon shape. Ginko inserts a small hook into it and pulls out a letter, which is has been partially torn apart; he whines that his mail hasn’t been arriving in top condition recently. And actually, it hasn’t even been for him: the letter is from “Aya Tozawa” and reads, simply, “please…”

In the glorious sun of a spring day a young woman stands collecting silkworms. Strangely, before she picks each cocoon she hold it up to the light. The attic of the woman’s house is full of silkworm cocoons hanging on strings from the rafters, and into one of them she inserts a letter. This one ends with the words, “I’m sorry.” A call brings her to the window: it’s Ginko, and he’s looking a little bit out of sorts. He inquires after her health, says that his “Uro-san” needs replacing, and proceeds straight on to the important business: this woman is the Aya who has been sending the letters, using the Mushihi’s mail system to do so. But Ginko doesn’t really seem to be mad that it’s causing him inconvenience; there’s something else bothering him. “You’re still doing this? You’re grandpa won’t be happy to hear that you’re still looking for the lost.” Aya looks away: “Ito is still here somewhere.” “But you can’t go and get her,” Ginko says gently. And finally we see Aya’s story:

She and her sister Ito were inseparable twins in a village of silk harvesters (Aya was the younger by a few minutes). The wore the same clothes, had the same hairstyles, and never grew tired of each other’s company. They also marveled together at the fact that they sometimes found empty silkworm cocoons, but their parents warned them not to pick them: something could come and take them away. On the twin’s tenth birthday their grandfather showed up and told them about “the grandpa in the forest.” It seems that there is an old man living in the forest who does something with the empty cocoons, and that one of the twins is destined to be his successor because both can see “Uro-san.” But the twins refuse to be separated: they will go together to live with this mysterious man. Their parents are saddened but cannot refuse. Despite his ragged looks the Grandpa in the Forest turns out to be a kind old man living in a house that seems much too large for him. When the twins come in he cautions them not to close the door, because an Uro-san might swallow them. The twins soon find out what this means: on the mountain there are many more of the empty cocoons than in the village, and the old man tells them that inside these cocoons live the Uro-san, strange Mushi that poke holes in the fabric of space to travel. The Uro-san can only survive in closed-in spaces—closed rooms, storehouses, the inside of a cocoon—and if they sense their space being opened they will vanish from it and travel to a different one. The trouble is that in order to do this they must pass through their own realm, the Uroana, and anything that is near them will also fall into this alternate space. Fortunately the Mushishi have found a way to use this bizarre beast: if they find an Uroana living inside a silkworm cocoon which has been woven by two worms and is therefore made of two threads, they can unravel these threads and create two smaller cocoons. For some time after this the Uro-san that made this double cocoon its nest will only be able to travel between these two places; thus if mail is put in one it will come out at the other. This is the grandpa in the forest’s job, and he is very pleased that he now has two capable apprentices.

The girls are happy in their new life, but one day as Aya hangs up laundry something unexpected happens: when Aya runs to the storehouse (Ito reminds her not to close the door) a gust of wind blows a sheet over the dozing Ito. The girl looks down and sees an Uro-san—and at that moment Aya returns and, thinking her sister is playing, lifts the sheet. There is nothing there.

For the rest of her life, despite the grandpa and the Mushishis’ assurances that it was not her fault, Aya has blamed herself for her sister’s disappearance; and she has never given up searching for her. The letters she sends pass through the Uroana; is it not possible that somehow her trapped sister might intercept one of them? Ginko thinks for a moment, and then asks Aya if she wants to see the Uroana herself. He’ll go with her. It turns out that there’s a natural opening to a passage of the Uroana near Aya’s house, which Mushishi sometimes use as a shortcut. It’s been partially “tamed:” an earlier Mushishi laid down an iron chain attached to posts, and as long as the traveler doesn’t let go of the chain he or she can get through safely. The Uroana looks like a long, twisted natural cave with endless branching passageways of bulbous rock, and as they walk through it Ginko tells Aya that people who stay in this nothing-place for too long will lose their memories. For Ito this must have happened long ago. Furthermore, the seemingly endless place they are exploring is just a small branch of the Uroana; the whole is almost infinitely vast and its exits are very few. Aya doesn’t want to hear any more, but Ginko continues: “even if you did your best,” even if she had incredible luck and put all of her energy into her search, “it’s not something you can do. Close the hole that’s inside of you.”

In the dark of nowhere, with Ginko watching over her, Aya weeps.

She stops sending the letters but she cannot change her own heart: as time goes by Aya continues to eat too little, to jump at every noise in the foliage and check to see if it’s her sister returning to her. It never is. She must listen to Ginko’s advice; she must live; she must not spend her life striving for a goal that cannot be achieved.

In the dark there is a single, tiny spot of light. A small hand reaches for it,

and an old silk-harvesting woman is shocked to see a young woman emerging out of a silkworm cocoon. Stuck in the girl’s kimono is a letter. This one says, “come back.” Later, the narrator tells us, the letter was used as a guide to return the girl, who had forgotten how to speak, to her sister: Aya Tozawa.

Episode 18 (“The Robe that Embraces a Mountain”): For once Ginko is on the buying end of a deal: a slightly disreputable-looking pawnshop dealer is offering him a haori (a coat worn over a kimono) with a beautiful painting of a mountain on the inside, done in dark greens and browns. Sometimes, the dealer explains, you can see smoke rising up in the picture, as if someone is cooking on the mountain. This picture, like all images, tells a story:

Years ago a boy named Kai grew up in a place that he loved, a town in the shadow of a green mountain where he felt so at peace that it was as if each day wrapped him in a warm cloak. He had a caring father and sister, and sometimes when they noticed mysterious smoke rising from the mountain they would joke that it was the mountain god preparing his food. (“God cooks his own food?” Kai asks.) As Kai grew older it became clear that he was a talented painter, and when he came of age he decided to go to the city and take an apprenticeship with a famous master. His father was crushed but his sister was proud of him, and before he left she gave him a haori she had made entirely of the materials found around their village, asking him to remember them each time he wore it. And he did, for his apprenticeship seemed to drag on forever. Each day he became more frustrated with the master who wouldn’t let him paint, until finally he gathered enough paint to fill the inside of his haori with a picture of the mountain that was always in his heart. On a warm spring day the master noticed his picture and immediately told Kai that there was almost nothing left for him to learn: he’s a natural. Kai got his first big assignment, a screen on which he painted a landscape in joyful muted reds, but right before the deadline he ran out of paint and had no money to buy any more. He had nothing to sell, either, so with no other choice he pawned his coat… after all, once the assignment was finished and he was paid he could buy the coat back. But the customer liked Kai’s work so much that he immediately ordered a screen for his daughter’s wedding (Kai did a beautifully lively purple rendition of flowers against a gold background) and an excited Kai entirely forgot about his sister’s haori.

Time passed and Kai became the most popular artist in the area; every day more letters arrived asking for his talents (when he felt stressed he simply burns the letters). He hardly thought of his village anymore, except very briefly when he overheard two men in a tavern discussing a village that had been destroyed by a landslide. His health began to suffer from all the work and although his paintings remained beautiful the sense of life that had infused them gave way to a cold, controlled stasis. A doctor recommended that Kai take a break and he suddenly remembered his sister and her cure for colds: it was time to go home. Excitedly he gathered some belongings and made off for his village.

Of course there was almost nothing left. The landslide had killed his father and his brother-in-law; his sister had died a few months later after giving birth to the child his grandmother was now taking care of. The village, hearing of Kai’s great fame, had sent him letters begging for help but heard nothing back, and as a result he was now partially blamed for the extent of the disaster. Once Kai overcame his shock he decided to stay in the village: if he couldn’t paint properly anymore he might as well try to live properly. Although the village was openly hostile to his staying, Kai worked hard to support himself and eventually became tolerated; his grandmother began leaving him gifts of food and he became friends with his niece. When his grandmother died the villagers wanted to send the child, Toyo, to distant relatives; but Kai asked if he could raise her instead. Toyo was stunted mentally and the villager’s doubted Kai’s ability to raise her, but they reluctantly agreed. Kai’s time with Toyo was bittersweet but rewarding, and as he remained in the village it began to feel once again like a true home.

Ginko buys the haori from the dealer (for half price, on the assertion that the Mushi might be dangerous) and travels to Kai’s town. His arrival is more then slightly startling to the onetime artist, not just because Ginko brings back a piece of his past but because of… well… this:

Ginko clambers up out of the dirt cussing and complaining that he thought he was going to die. He invites himself to Kai’s home and explains that as he approached the village he found himself suddenly becoming inexplicably heavier, actually sinking into the ground. It seems that the Mushi in the coat were Ubusuna. These mud-like Mushi inhabit certain geographical regions of special power, and when they come out of the ground they look like smoke (thus the smoke on the mountain). They cannot live outside of their special region, and when the landslide displaced a large number of them many found refuge in Kai’s coat, made entirely of things they recognized. When Ginko went to Kai’s village the Ubusuna’s return to their hometown temporarily submerged him in the ground. The Ubusuna also explain why Kai felt that his town was so empty when he returned, and why, as they gradually return, he has begun to feel more at peace: Ubusuna permeate certain areas, and those who live there develop an almost symbiotic relationship with them.

Suddenly Kai has an idea and asks if the Ubusuna could explain the recent rash of stunted children. Ginko tells him that if a child grows up in a land like this without enough of the land’s Ubusuna in her system, it might cause her to be out of touch: this is what happened to Toyo. However, now that the land is almost whole again there is hope for her future. The only question left now is the fate of the coat: now that there’s no Mushi left in it Ginko’s plans of selling it to Adashino-sensei have been ruined. Fortunately Ginko has no qualms about a bit of fraud between friends, so he has Kai draw a duplicate and sells it to Adashino, leaving the original with Kai. “Well,” he reasons, “I did have a near-death experience. At least this much should be allowed.”

As Toyo watches Kai paint the mountain, a slow grin comes across her face. “The mountain!” she declares. “That’s right, Toyo, it’s the mountain,” returns her proud uncle.

“Draw me more.”

“…Okay.”