CHAPTER 60: 55. FISHING... NO, FISH BOMBING!

Coming out of the Onmyo-ryo, Fujiwara Reya walked to the nearby Nikko House Bookstore.

The store had a high ceiling, and he wandered between aisles of bookshelves, finally taking two books about the Spanish Civil War to the counter to pay.

The cashier was a woman who looked sharp and competent; to call her a beauty would be a stretch. But her graceful figure and the elegant gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose made her quite likable.

"Not many people buy books on the Spanish Civil War," she said, looking up.

"Maybe I can find some inspiration in them," Fujiwara Reya replied deliberately.

"The last group that got inspired has already fallen like the Republican government in the books," she lamented, shaking her head while skillfully scanning the barcode. Once the payment was done, she kindly handed Fujiwara a beautifully printed paper bag.

By "fallen," she was referring to the people who initiated Japan’s Red Movement in the 1970s.

Fujiwara Reya didn’t discuss further. As he turned to leave with his books, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen; the number was unfamiliar, but he decided to answer anyway.

"Hello~"

"Senior, why don’t we go to Disney with Asuka—"

"I have to study," Fujiwara Reya refused directly.

"Study from Monday to Friday, and of course, relax on the weekends!"

"Kasahara Asuka, I’m different from you."

"Of course you’re different. You’re male, and I’m female~"

"I mean, I was born in a very remote town," Fujiwara Reya said as he walked towards the bustling Koshu Street, passing by many people, "no dental clinics, no cafes, no trains; mail had to be picked up after a ten-kilometer mountain walk, haircuts were done by acquaintances, and the radio had a signal for only one hour a day."

"Are there such places?"

Kasahara Asuka’s voice was filled with surprise.

"Of course, there’s a lot you don’t know," Fujiwara Reya stopped at a red light, "Compared to you, who had no worries growing up, I have to work really hard to survive in Tokyo, so please don’t..."

Kasahara Asuka interrupted him abruptly: "Senior could always marry into the family."

"..."

"Haha, I’m just teasing you."

"But Asuka is so bored, come and keep me company~~"

On the other end of the line, besides the sweet voice of the junior, there was a faint "whoosh whoosh" sound.

Fujiwara Reya imagined her naked legs swinging up and down the sofa, and his tone softened.

The traffic light turned green. As he crossed the street, he said, "I plan to ask Mr. Ikeda to go fishing this afternoon. If you’re bored, you can come along."

"Fishing?"

"Senior, you are such a boring person, you really disappoint Asuka!"

Kasahara Asuka teased and then directly hung up the phone.

"..."

Bah!

Silly girl!

Fishing is much more fun than being with you!

Fujiwara Reya made a note of her number, then followed his phone’s navigation through Chitose Valley, past Divine Palace Stadium, and walked by the Nezu Museum before finally arriving at a fishing tackle shop on Aoyama Street.

The phone in his pocket rang again.

This time, it was Hoshimi Rinko calling.

"Hello, Senior."

"Come to my place this afternoon and help me make some matcha cakes."

"I have plans this afternoon."

"Oh."

Senior responded nonchalantly and simply hung up.

"..."

Fujiwara Reya stared at the screen, bemusedly pondering why the two high school girls he knew were always in such a hurry to hang up?

Forget it.

Playing with the boys is more fun anyway.

Fujiwara Reya opened his contacts list and dialed Ikeda Aoshu’s number.

"Hello, Mr. Fujiwara, is there something you need?" The young monk greeted him with his usual cheerful voice.

"Come fishing with me."

"Eh..." Ikeda Aoshu was stunned for a few seconds, then became very excited, "After half a year, you finally invite me out on a weekend again; I thought you’d forgotten about me as a friend. Boohoo, I’m so touched—"

"Yeah, yeah, didn’t forget," Fujiwara Reya replied perfunctorily, "Besides fishing, there’s something I want to discuss with you."

"..."

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

Fujiwara Reya continued, "I want to buy a cemetery plot from you; give me a discount."

In Shintoism, death is considered an ominous sign, and no matter how large the shrine is, they don’t deal with funeral services.

But having been influenced by Han culture, Japanese people also value being buried properly after death, leading to high demand for cemetery plots. Seeing the huge profits, foreign Buddhist monks ventured into the cemetery business.

Over hundreds of years, the monks have developed a complete "one-stop funeral service" system.

"Mr. Fujiwara~"

On the phone, the young monk’s voice sounded a bit hurt.

"I thought you wanted to play with me, that’s why you invited me to go fishing..."

"When setting up for fishing, you need to prep the spot in advance," Fujiwara Reya replied confidently, "The same goes for angling a monk’s cemetery plot; you need to prep in advance."

"You still haven’t paid for the last three cemetery plots you asked for!" Ikeda Aoshu scolded him angrily, "Just for that, the elder monk at home has nagged at me for ages, he almost resorted to hitting me."

"I’ll pay, I’ll pay, all at once."

With the debt revealed, Fujiwara Reya had to reply with a smile, "Including this time, how much for the four cemetery plots in total?"

Japan has a small landmass, so cemetery plots are naturally extremely expensive.

A standard 2-square-meter plot costs one to two million yen, and in big cities, especially Tokyo, the price might be even higher.

"Isn’t your money reserved for repairing the shrine?" Ikeda Aoshu hesitated.

"Recently, I’ve loosened up a bit financially."

"Forget it, take the plot first, I’ll handle things with the elder monk."

"No worries, when I say I have the money, I really have it. Truly broke, I’d show no courtesy."

"Then give me 4 million yen."

"That cheap?"

"It’s half-priced."

"The elder monk won’t hit you?"

"I’m just following in your footsteps, doing good deeds, promoting Buddhist Law; if he dares to hit me, I have justification to fight back!"

"That’s good, I’ll visit Shankoku Temple during Golden Week."

"I’ll have everything ready for you."

"Ikeda-kun, you’re amazing!"

"Mr. Fujiwara, you’re equally amazing!"

The little priest and the young monk exchanged compliments all the way, agreeing to meet by Tokyo Bay for fishing.

Starting at noon, they fished until the sun set, a full six hours, and in the end, both caught nothing.

"God Bless~"

"Fish, please bite the hook~"

Ikeda Aoshu stared blankly at the float on the water, muttering incessantly.

"Looks like we got skunked today," Fujiwara Reya remarked as he slowly reeled in.

Just then, a school of horse mackerel swam by, foraging along the sea embankment. As Ikeda Aoshu was about to reel in, several fish floated to the surface, their eyes glaring at the anglers on shore, fish mouths opening and closing, blowing bubbles.

As if laughing at them.

"Fujiwara..."

"Yes, I see them."

"Are they mocking us?"

"...Possibly."

Fujiwara Reya looked down at the empty net bag.

Then, he raised his head, glaring at the audacious horse mackerel with displeasure.

Ikeda Aoshu clenched his fists: "We can’t let them get away with this!"

"Right!" Fujiwara Reya turned his head left and right to scout the area, confirming no one was around, then waved his palm forward: "Let’s do it!"

’Om, Ma, Ni, Pad, Me, Hum’

The six-character mantra appeared.

With a push of his palm, Ikeda Aoshu unleashed the light of Buddha.

"Boom~"

The sea surface exploded.

Ripples swiftly spread out, and soon, dozens of horse mackerel floated belly up on the sea surface, dead with no pain.

"Amitabha~"

Ikeda Aoshu put his hands together, solemn and respectful, bowing towards the fish.

Then he turned his head, grinning cheekily, and extended his palm toward Fujiwara Reya: "A big catch today!"

"Yeah!"

Fujiwara Reya high-fived his best friend.

When he got home that evening, he recorded the whole incident in his diary.

[On a clear spring day near the end of April, a young monk and a little priest failed to catch any fish and, out of frustration, used extraordinary powers to blast a school of ordinary fish.]

[It’s not something particularly meaningful or worthy of praise, but the joy of that moment is something to savor for a lifetime.]

[The horse mackerel soup was very sweet and savory; next time, we’re blowing them up again.]