Ink Portals

The old master

10

The chopper descended near the shoulder of Mount Fuji and touched down in a clearing in the Aokigahara forest. Jack and his crew took their bags and disembarked, stepping out into the mountainous terrain. There were scattered patches of snow, dotted amongst rows of imposing tree-lines on all sides. The pilots waited for them to get clear of the rotors before taking off, leaving the four of them to fend for themselves in the icy wilderness.

"Jeez, it's even colder than I expected," Abby said, pulling out a second coat from her bag and wriggling it over the one she already wore.

Arthur Jack and Pierre also rummaged in their bags for extra layers of clothing.

"The sea of trees," Pierre said, breathing in the frigid mountain air and watching his breath leave his mouth.

"Is that what they call it?" Abby asked.

"Aokigahara is also known as 'the suicide forest'," Pierre said, glancing around the snowy landscape.

"So it's like a suicide destination?" Arthur said.

"Sometimes the odd hiker gets lost and dies out in the elements," Pierre said, zipping up his bag. "But lots of them come here for the sole purpose of checking out early. It's an infamous place for suicides, there are even signposts on some of the trails that urge people to turn back, or call a suicide hotline."

"Great," Arthur said. "I'll make sure to keep my phone handy, speaking of which, do we use the GPS, or what?"

"No need for that," Jack said, checking the position of the sun to find his bearings. "We'll do it the old fashioned way. I still remember how to get there."

"Well then, everybody follow Mr. Bear Grylls here," Pierre said, winking at Arthur. "Jack, did you happen to bring something to start a fire? Or fashion a bow and arrows for hunting?"

"Shut it," Jack said, picking up his bag and heading for the tree line. "We'll be there before dark."

The trek up the mountain was slow and tedious. They stopped halfway to rest and have a drink of water from a semi-frozen mountain stream. Arthur sat on a boulder by the stream, watching a troop of Macaque monkeys passing through the bushes nearby.

"Why does he live all the way out here?" Abby said, sipping some water and wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

"It's an interesting story, actually," Jack said. "Kazunori used to be a big deal in tattoo circles; he's one of the old boys from Japan who still uses traditional hand-needling techniques, instead of machines. He lived in the US for a while and toured around, tattooing celebrities and the odd collector. He was even featured in a couple of tattoo magazines back in the day. After that he became somewhat of a hermit."

"But still," Arthur said. "Why live out here on the side of a mountain, with all the suicide corpses in the woods?"

Pierre began the history lesson: "Shortly after Kazunori discovered the secrets of the soul-bearers, he started tattooing members of the Yakuza. They were dumb-founded by the power they had been given, and wanted to know how he achieved such a feat."

Jack chimed in: "Kazunori memorized the herbal recipe mixed into the ink. Without it you can't create a bearer. Then he destroyed the scroll, making himself the most valuable member of the Yakuza elite. But then the Yakuza exiled him to the mountain, in order to keep the recipe from falling into the hands of outsiders."

"So when he dies..." Arthur said.

"He takes it to the grave," Jack said. "No more bearers after that."