The room was dark.
Only the moon illuminated the space. Its silvery light bled into the room, unveiling the pale and waxy figure of a man who'd been dead for two weeks now.
The Village Head stared at her boy's body, preserved with mugwort, wormwood, and camphor. This had all happened just a few days ago. He was in perfect condition, just as he'd been in life. She couldn't help but stare for a beat longer. Then she placed three talismans, drawn in cinnabar, on his body: one on his forehead to preserve memory, one on his chest to preserve his heart and soul, and another at his feet to prevent him from wandering. She placed a kiss on his left cheek before closing the box—designed both to seal his body from outside corruption and trap any lingering essence.
A figure in shamanic robes emerged from the darkness, head bowed, gazing solemnly at the Village Head. "We must wait five days for the mourning rites. After that, we proceed as planned."
A single tear ran down her cheeks as she got up and looked at the Shaman. Her voice trembled with a fragile determination, grief and hope competing in her eyes. "Whatever it takes to bring my son back."
After five days, the Shaman placed a reanimation talisman on the body, a soul was needed for reanimation. She whispered Taoist invocations, calling the son's wandering spirit to bind to the body. The room chilled, filling with yin energy.
The Shaman opened her eyes, flashing with alertness. "He is here."
The Village Head looked up but saw nothing. She watched as the Shaman drew closer to her son, waving her hands as if guiding the spirit into place. After two minutes, the
Shaman turned to her, face grave. "The condition of making the body and soul linked and tethered to this world is through a bond."
"A bond?"
She nodded. "And the strongest bond there is, is marriage. Through marriage, the bride will become the anchor that will keep your son in place."
The Village Head's eyes widened. This was the last thing she expected. She glanced at her son, who looked peacefully asleep. The idea of him marrying a stranger felt wrong, especially considering their situation.
Seeing the doubt in her eyes, the Shaman bent down, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Ichiko, my dear friend. This is the only way to bring your precious son back. Without this bond, he won't remain stable for long, and he will be prone to slipping back into death or becoming an evil spirit. This is the only way."
She looked at her son again, caressing his cheek as her lips quivered. She knew the risks—either way could end badly. It was wrong to bring him back; he deserved peace. But she couldn't let go of the last family she had.
"...My dear Ryousuke, please forgive me."
With those words, his body shook, convulsing inside the box, spirit battling flesh. The Village Head watched as the struggle subsided and his body went still.
The Shaman opened her eyes, thin lips parting. "It is complete." With those words, Ryousuke's eyes opened.
"Now all that's left is finding him a wife."