I checked the map the solicitor had drawn for me. The information board at the building’s entrance also announced, “Third Floor, Imperial Hall.” There was no mistake; this was it. It was great that we had arrived at our destination, but I felt unexpectedly let down.
Contrary to its powerful-sounding name, the Imperial Hall was a rather worn-out old building that rented out office space to small businesses. The first floor was a real estate company and the second floor housed a tax attorney's office, leaving only the third floor to be occupied by the religious group. Colored red by the sunset, the rental space looked even more faded. I had imagined a huge temple decorated in gold leaf and the like, so I was taken by surprise.
Still, it was about time to start our infiltration. “L-let’s go, Yamazaki.”
“Yeah, let’s, Satou.”
Fortifying our will, we climbed the narrow stairs of the building.
In the end, our infiltration of the hall succeeded easily.
No one we passed even obliquely mentioned our strange disguises. Although I had told yet another gigantic lie: “Actually, my eyes are so bad, I need my sunglasses.” I said this despite not having been asked. And everyone said, “Oh my, how terrible”, and took pity on me.
That’s right: They were actually good people.
“Good evening.”
“Welcome.”
“Thank you for coming.”
A housewife, a female middle school student, and a businessman greeted us with invigorating smiles on their faces. Bowing our heads to them, we continued up the narrow stairs and stepped into the meeting hall. And once again, we tasted disappointment.
The interior of the hall lacked any religious atmosphere. Adornments such as candles, crosses, and altars were nowhere to be found. Instead, inside the room, a podium like those found in school auditoriums occupied center stage, faced by rows of evenly spaced metal folding chairs. The room could accommodate about one hundred people. The floor and walls were painted uniformly in a soft cream color, and the fluorescent lighting was bright. This relaxed space, the meeting room, basically resembled a normal town hall.
For now, we sat in folding chairs at the very back, hunching down to make ourselves as invisible as possible. However, that attempt soon failed miserably. Yamazaki and I were surrounded by hospitable, smiling people—young and old, male and female. It looked as though the young solicitor we’d seen the previous day had told everyone to expect visitors beforehand.
“I hear you’re interested in the Bible”, said a housewife with a child in her arms. “After all, faith is an issue that everyone has to face.”
A young man about my age said, “Please, take your rime and watch.”
A high-school-aged girl said—
They were all speaking to us at the same time.
Returning their greetings in my duck voice, I felt increasingly anxious. This is bad. At this rate, we’ll stand out. Or rather, we’re already standing out plenty, Misaki doesn’t seem to have arrived yet; the way it’s going, though, it’s only a matter of time before she sees through our disguises.
For the moment, we decided to retreat temporarily. Asking the housewife where the bathroom was, we hurried from the meeting hall.
“This is no good, Satou.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it, Yamazaki?”
We caught our breath while relieving ourselves in the sparkling clean bathroom.
“Why are those people being so friendly to shady people like us?”
“I’m kind of moved.” I was somewhat surprised by myself. This was the first time in my long life that I had ever experienced anything like this. A large number of people had openly welcomed me with smiles on their faces. I had no idea how to deal with it.
“Ha ha ha, maybe I should convert!”
I heard Yamazaki, who had gone into the private stall, suddenly burst into laughter. Next came the sound of toilet paper unrolling. I heard him blow his nose, and then he came out of the stall. The pupils of his eyes had dilated behind his colored contacts. White powder stuck to his sleeves.
“How about you, Satou?” Yamazaki held out a plastic packet filled with the drug. I gently refused. As my espionage activities were about to begin, I couldn’t afford to lose my level-headed judgment.
Putting tissues inside my mouth, I changed the contours of my face, creating an even more perfect disguise. Yamazaki, an off-the-chart smile plastered across his face, meanwhile busied himself walking in circles around the bathroom.
A short time later, we heard a choral hymn coming from beyond the bathroom walls. The assembly seemed to have begun.
Casually, we headed toward the meeting hall.
As I mentioned, the meeting hall’s interior lacked any sort of religious atmosphere at all. It looked like a youth training center. Even so…
Why had I gotten goose bumps up and down my spine? I was moved. It might have been a side effect of the drugs I’d taken before leaving the apartment. My emotional amplification might have been nothing more than a side effect. But…
Almost one hundred people had gathered in this hall, and they were singing without hesitation, with remarkable spirit. Older men, older women, young men, young women—they had turned in unison to face the lectern and single-mindedly sang a hymn praising God. Here, I could certainly feel holiness. Oh, this is true religion! This is wonderful!
Anyway, wrapped up in the hymn, I moved quickly along the wall of the meeting hall and arrived back at a seat along the very edge. When the hymn ended, a middle-aged man standing at the podium began to pray. He seemed to be the most important person there.
“Great Creator, who made the heavens and this Earth, too, along with us humans, may praise and glory be returned to your great name.” Everyone looked forward, listening attentively to his prayer. No one looked at us.
It was going as planned.
Or so I thought. As he was finishing his prayers, the important man at the podium said something like, “Thanks to the aid of the Holy Spirit, you were all able to gather here again today. Many children, as well as new people…”
New people? Who? Who are they?
They were us.
Everyone’s gazes immediately turned toward us. I pulled the tulip hat even farther down over my eyes. Yamazaki, as though competing with everyone else, flashed his insane smile.
At the edge of my peripheral vision, I could see Misaki. She was in front of me, in the seat closest to the pedestal. She hadn’t realized we were there. Relaxing, I stopped Yamazaki, who was trying to wave to everyone.
“Well then, we give you all our thanks in the name of the Son, Lord Jesus Christ, and give you our prayers.”
“Amen.” The congregation spoke as one. Only our duck voices stood out terribly in the chorus.
The purpose of this meeting was to improve proselytizing techniques. This was why it was called “missionary school.”
First, a veteran male follower stood at the podium and spoke as an example to follow. After that, the missionary students expounded on various subjects for six minutes at a time. At the end, the “director” gave a three-tiered assessment (“good”, “work harder”, or “needs improvement”) to each student’s discussion.
At least, that's how the housewife sitting next to me explained it.
Bowing politely to her, I casually assessed the scene. Even though it was a weekday evening, a decent number of people had gathered. What caught my eye first was the huge number of housewives. They were all extremely normal, middle-aged women, like the kind you’d find shopping at any nearby supermarket. In addition, there were businessmen, coming straight to the assembly on their way home from work. Finally, there were young people on their way home from school. A wide variety of people had gathered in this meeting hall.