Kohei's ears pricked at the mountain spirit's words. She claimed she knew where to find wild ginseng.
If I bring it to my parents, they'll be so happy.
He pictured his father's face. His parents had left the city and moved here for the sake of their health. Kohei himself had always been robust, never plagued by illness, but for his father—whose strength had waned in recent years—the ginseng might be a precious gift.
"You really know where wild ginseng grows?" he asked.
"That's right! Just follow me to the place."
He hesitated. "It's too late. It'll be dark soon. Let's go back down and come again tomorrow."
"It's on the way down!" the spirit cried, her voice urgent.
"On the way down?" He frowned. They had already descended halfway. Could there really be something lower on the mountain?
When he was a boy, villagers often roamed these hills. The old men and women who treated the mountain like their own backyard had gathered matsutake mushrooms and wild herbs here. On holidays, when he visited his grandparents, they would present him with bundles of roots and medicinal plants. But in recent years, the mountain had fallen silent, abandoned. It was hard to believe anything as valuable as ginseng would be left untouched.
Still, there was no harm in looking.
If it's really on the way, I've got nothing to lose.
The spirit's insistence carried a weight that was difficult to ignore.
He checked the time.
Sunset's around 5:20… I've got an hour at most. Enough if I move quickly.
"Is it far from the trail?" he asked.
"No. At this pace we'll reach it in fifteen minutes."
"Then lead the way."
The girl brightened, smiling as she pointed. "Good! A little farther down, then off to the side…"
Still clinging to his back, she guided him with small, insistent gestures. They followed the trail for five minutes, then pushed through brush for another ten, until they reached a patch overrun by creeping vines.
Thick clusters of burrweed choked the ground, their broad leaves tangling into a stubborn mat. Even in winter, the spiny stems made every step a challenge. In summer, the growth would have been impassable.
The girl's face twisted with distaste. "These wretched invaders spread everywhere, strangling the life from other plants. If only someone would wipe them out…"
Burrweed was notorious: aggressive, fast-spreading, and so destructive it was classified as an invasive species.
"Where's the ginseng?" Kohei asked.
"There. Beneath those broad leaves."
He swept the vines aside with his foot, and sure enough, beneath the tangle appeared a cluster of five leaflets, shaped like a maple leaf.
It's real. Wild ginseng.
It would have been easier to spot if it had borne its red berries, but hidden under the burrweed, it was well concealed.
The spirit puffed out her chest. "Well? Do you believe I'm the mountain's guardian now?"
"Let me check first."
He cleared the vines with care, then set her down. "Stay here. I'll dig it up quickly. Don't wander off—it'll be dangerous once the light fades."
She plopped onto the ground with a huff. "Honestly. This is my home. What danger could there be?"
Resting her chin in her hand, she watched him work. For some reason, though he treated her like a child, she didn't find it unpleasant. If anything, it might help them form a friendlier bond.
Kohei knelt and began to dig carefully. The soil was shaded and loose, making the task easier. Slowly, a pale root emerged, tinged with gold.
It's real. Genuine ginseng.
The root was thick—nearly the width of two fingers pressed together—and healthy. His throat tightened with excitement.
But… can I really take this in front of the mountain spirit?
If she truly was who she claimed to be, then surely everything that grew here belonged to her. He paused, met her eyes, and spoke solemnly.
"Little one—no, Mountain Spirit. Am I allowed to dig this up?"
The ginseng was easily fifty years old. To hand such a treasure to a passing mortal would be no small gift.
But the girl only waved her hand. "Of course. Do you think I'd bring you here just to tease you? It's yours."
"Thank you," he said, bowing deeply before returning to work.
Time pressed, and he moved quickly yet with care, scooping soil away to avoid damaging the roots. At last, he unearthed the entire plant—its central white body firm and clean, its many fine roots stretching outward. The sharp, fresh fragrance filled his nose.
It's priceless. On the market this could fetch hundreds of thousands.
He slipped the root carefully into his pouch.
"Well? Are you satisfied?" the spirit asked.
"More than satisfied. Thank you, Mountain Spirit."
"Good. Then I'll ask something in return." Her voice softened, almost coaxing.
Kohei studied her. Her kimono remained spotless even after sitting on the dirt. She wasn't human. That much was clear. There was no point insisting she leave the mountain with him.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Help me restore the mountain's health," she said simply.
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. His mother's name lit the screen.
"Excuse me. It's my mother. I need to take this."
"Go on," the spirit replied.
He answered quickly. "Yes, Mom?"
[It's almost dinnertime and you're still not back. The mountain gets dark fast. Come home.]
In the background, he heard the faint clatter of dishes—his father busy in the kitchen. Kohei smiled, picturing how delighted his father would be with the ginseng.
"I'm nearly down. I'll be back soon."
[All right. Be careful.]
"Yes." He hung up, tucking the phone away.
The spirit pouted, lips jutting forward. "Finished?"
"I'm sorry. My parents are worried. May I come back tomorrow to hear the rest?"
Her eyes widened in alarm. She had given away her most precious ginseng—if he left now and never returned, she might wither away, powerless. But night was falling, and she could not stop him by force.
Tears welled in her eyes. "…You must come back."
"Don't worry. I will."
"Then follow me. This way down."
She took the lead, guiding him effortlessly down the slope. Her steps were so sure, so graceful, it was as if the mountain itself smoothed the path for her. Thanks to her, they reached the entrance before the sun slipped away.
She drew herself up, crossing her arms. "Tomorrow. You must return."
"I will. Thank you again for the ginseng."
"Hmph. That's nothing. If you help me, I can give you far greater things."
She watched him go, sensing something strange in his aura. His presence carried a strength unlike any she had known before. It wasn't threatening, but it was undeniably powerful.
Kohei bowed once more. "Then, until tomorrow."
"Go safely," she said, watching as he disappeared down the path toward home.
As soon as Kohei stepped into the yard, the rich aroma of soybean stew drifted to his nose. His mother's diet was limited these days, so he had grown used to eating the same dishes alongside her.
"I'm home," he called.
"…Son, you're back?"
"Perfect timing," his father said, setting a bubbling pot of stew down on the table. His mother was already seated, waiting.
"Do you know what I brought back from the mountain today?" Kohei asked.
His father frowned, thinking. On a mountain as barren as this one, what could his son have possibly found? At best, maybe a few mugwort leaves or mushrooms.
"You shouldn't pick wild mushrooms carelessly. They can be dangerous."
"Just look at this."
Kohei carefully pulled something from his pocket and held it out.
His father's eyes widened. "Wait—ginseng?"
"Not ginseng. Wild ginseng," his son corrected.
"What? That big?!" His father gasped, clutching his chest and fumbling for his asthma inhaler. The shock nearly stole his breath away.
"Is it really wild ginseng?"
"Yes."
"Where on earth did you…"
Even a finger-thick root could fetch hundreds of thousands of Yen. This specimen was easily worth over a million.
"So that's why you came with us, huh? Planning to change careers and become a wild ginseng hunter?"
Kohei laughed. "I was lucky, that's all. Lightning doesn't strike twice—I have no plans to make it a profession."
"Well, if we sold it, it'd fetch a tidy sum."
"Not for selling. It's for you and Mom. Both of you should take it."
His father gaped. "What? Something this valuable? We can't possibly—"
"You must. Think of it as a gift from the mountain. Eat it and get better."
Kohei rinsed the ginseng carefully, making sure not to snap off any of the fine roots.
The root is solid. I was right to trust the mountain spirit.
He patted it dry, then split it in half, handing one piece to each parent.
His mother hesitated, then tried to push her share back toward him. "You should have some too."
"I'm strong enough already. If I eat ginseng on top of that, I'll have too much energy. Please, it's better for you."
She gave in at last with a small nod. "All right. I'll eat it."
"Thank you, son," his father said, his voice warm.
They chewed slowly, savoring the dense, resinous taste. It was as if the very essence of the forest had been distilled into the root, flooding their mouths with a deep, earthy fragrance.
"This is incredible," His father said, swallowing.
Strength welled inside him so quickly that he laughed out loud, rolling his shoulders. "I feel like I could run a marathon! Thank you, Kohei."
His mother smiled faintly. "…Yes. My body feels calmer already. Thank you, son."
Their gratitude made Kohei's chest flutter with warmth. He smiled back. "You'll both be healthy again soon."
His father chuckled. "We should send you up the mountain more often."
"Ha! This was just luck. Don't expect too much next time."
"Fair enough. I'm only teasing."
The three of them shared laughter, the weight of illness eased, if only for a moment.
***
The next morning, after breakfast, Kohei headed up the back mountain. At the trailhead, the mountain spirit was crouched on the ground. She leapt to her feet, waving both arms.
"Here! Over here!"
"Good morning, Mountain Spirit," he greeted.
"Don't be so stiff. We'll be seeing a lot of each other. Just call me Yamagami."
"Yes, Yamagami. The ginseng you gave me yesterday was well received."
She stepped close, sniffing him with narrowed eyes. "You didn't eat it, did you?"
"I gave it to my parents."
"…Well, that's fine. Shall we walk a little?"
She wanted him away from the trailhead—if he tried to leave suddenly, she'd have no way to stop him. They climbed partway up, then settled in a quiet spot.
Kohei spoke first. "How should I help you?"
He had no intention of taking without giving. Accepting her gift and then walking away would be dishonorable.
"Become Yama no Nushi (Lord of the Mountain)," she said.
"Yama no Nushi? Isn't that usually a giant serpent or a bear?"
"In the past, yes. But there are no bears left."
Bears had once been chosen as mountain guardians for their strength and spiritual presence. But with their extinction, she had no one left. To her, Kohei was the last lifeline.
"And humans can serve too. If you make a pact with me, I can awaken the power within you."
It was intriguing—but as a practical man, he had questions.
"Forgive me, but I have a life of my own. I can't spend all my time up here."
"Being Yama no Nushi doesn't mean you'll be trapped. Even I, a mountain spirit, can walk outside once I regain my strength."
That was one concern addressed. He pressed further. "And if I disobey your orders?"
Her eyes darted uneasily. "…Then the contract ends. I can only take back the power I gave you."
Kohei narrowed his gaze.
So there's no hidden trap.
He had learned to read faces during his years in sales, and hers didn't carry the weight of a lie.
"In that case, I'll help you—for now," he said. Partly out of obligation, partly out of the hope that once her power returned, she might be able to heal his parents.
"Truly?" Her face lit up.
"Yes."
"Then… don't resist my energy. Accept it."
She clasped his hands. Warmth poured into him, flooding his body as if his very bones were thawing.
Focus, Yamagami, she told herself.
A green aura like living forest flowed through his arms and shoulders, breaking through the blockages in his meridians. His energy should have begun to rise. But even when the current reached his core, nothing stirred.
Don't tell me… he's a dud?
Sweat beaded her brow.
Then—
A roar split the silence. Power surged upward, wild and unstoppable, blasting into the sky like a pillar of light.
"What… what is this?!"