Volume 3 - CH 4.1

Once upon a time, there was a fox.

A long, long time ago, the fox chose to live near humans.

Pretending to be human, it made two friends.

But foxes are beasts. There is no way they can get along with humans.

The fox drove one into a corner, impregnated the other, and disappeared.

But the story did not end there.

The fox still lives to this day, feeding off others.

It happened a long, long time ago.

And the story still continues.

“The fox has made its move,” Mayuzumi muttered, sliding the paper in her hand forward.

There were red letters on the crumpled paper. Written in crayons, the letters were worn out, but still legible.

Once upon a time, there was a fox.

The fox dug up a grave and smashed the coffin.

“He’s started something again. Ah, what a pain. His scripts take too much effort. I’m not going even if he invites me.”

The office was filled with the smell of chocolate. Mayuzumi tapped her fingers on the paper spread open between pastry boxes. Her black fingernails pattered irritatingly.

But it needs the missing ingredient.

One for the body, one for the soul.

But there was only one material available.

So the monster couldn’t become human.

“He’s using the dead to create a monster. But its body will eventually crumble. Just like Misaki, who was swept away by the sea. To maintain its body, it needs to gather the missing ingredient.”

The girl tried to gather the materials.

For her very precious friend.

She would have done anything.

“In the first incident, the monster returned to the sea. But in the second incident, the monster survived and disappeared somewhere. If I had to guess, it’s because it had gathered the necessary material.”

One for the body. One for the soul.

I racked my brains over the differences between the cases.

One and two.

The number of dead people.

“For one monster to live, the price is two deaths—far too much. A nasty game, if you ask me. How could the scale be balanced with twice as much weight on one side?” Mayuzumi said tiredly, tossing the fountain pen aside.

Wrapped with silver tendrils, it rolled across the desk. She looked at the two sheets of paper boredly.

Propping her arm on the sofa’s armrest, she went on, “I think this is a rule he set up on his own. He finds people who want to bring back the dead and gives them monsters. Then he imposes nonsensical rules, leading them to their doom. The first case was probably an experiment. Makihara didn’t know the conditions, so Misaki couldn’t maintain a proper human form. But from the second case, he’s finally started playing the game.”

Mayuzumi smiled a little. She picked up a chocolate truffle and shoved it into her mouth.

She was probably right. That incident was nothing but a game to him.

I recalled the dead body crammed in the cabinet. Aya’s body was curled up like a fetus, her eyes closed. The fox surely had no idea of her suffering.

To him, human tragedy was nothing but entertainment.

“Apparently the monster is influenced by the mind of the one who wants them alive. Misaki’s inability to maintain her human shape was probably due to Makihara’s immense fear and guilt distorting her real image. The reason Aya kept forcing Aya to kill people was because of her mind telling her that she has to at least kill people to revive her friend.”

Everyone was putting heavy shackles on themselves.

Mayuzumi shrugged. She didn’t laugh at the guilt that burdened them, but she didn’t pity them either. A melting chocolate truffle clung to her slender fingers. Mayuzumi licked it with her red tongue.

“She met her end through suicide, so to speak. An expected outcome. Stop worrying about it.”

She tore her own throat with her own hands.

The act alone would be enough to rule her death a suicide.

But it was no different than murder.

I clenched my fists. Blood oozed through the bandage from my wounded palm. She became so cornered that she had no choice but to kill herself. It was someone else who brought the blade close to her throat. And it was obvious who cut off the last thread she was clinging to.

Me.

“Stop looking so gloomy. I don’t care for your sentimentality. You’re just making me feel depressed. Do you even realize how arrogant you are, Odagiri-kun? Were you such a big part of Aya’s life? You could have saved her? Don’t be silly. Even if you’d been able to get her out safely, she would’ve eventually suffered a similar breakdown. She was already long broken. You couldn’t have fixed her. She had nothing left.”

Smoothly she crossed her legs, clad in black stockings, and smiled softly.

A beautiful, spine-chilling smile.

“Aren’t you glad she died?”

I kicked the desk. Chocolate rolled, and the lid on the water tank shifted. A red goldfish soared through the air, passing by the window pane. Bright red stood out against the gray sky. A golden wrapper fell at Mayuzumi’s feet. She picked it up and tossed the content in her mouth.

Biting on the hard chocolate, she continued nonchalantly, “A flesh that changes with the human mind. It’s like a god.”

I was reminded of the Minase incident a while back. The god was composed of flesh that could change at will. It turned into a tree, fish, beast, man, before finally crumbling because it could not sustain itself. Now that I thought about it, the monsters created from flesh were very similar to the god. Perhaps Mayuzumi realized it the moment she saw the mermaid. That’s why she contacted the Minase family.

“But the god should have died.”

Yes. The god died that day.

It wasn’t even a god to begin with. Just a clay sculpture that could transform at will.

“Yes, it was nothing but a clay sculpture. A cheap imitation. But it being made of clay is what’s crucial. A real god is of no use to man. Asato is playing with flesh that can transform at will. But how and where he got it, I don’t know.”

Mayuzumi narrowed her eyes grimly. She picked up her fountain pen and drew a straight line right through the red words.

“What a pain,” she mumbled. “That fox has not changed a bit. I told him the shows he puts on are too hideous.”

The fountain pen toppled. I gaped at the goldfish drifting on the ceiling. I was so confused that I couldn’t think about anything. Mayuzumi didn’t say a word, just stared at the paper.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, breaking the silence.

My legs rose, kicking the desk by accident. My heart raced, and my whole body trembled. I tried to calm myself down, but to no avail. I couldn’t breathe properly, so I loosened my collar and stuck out my tongue like a dog.

The doorbell rang again. My whole body shook even harder. An incomprehensible reaction even to me. I felt like Pavlov’s dog. I just couldn’t calm down.

I was afraid of cases. I was terrified that someone would come to us with a story about something.

Someone else could die as a result.

Just like she did.

Appalled, Mayuzumi stood up and walked straight to the front door. There was some exchange, but I didn’t hear it well. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say. If I didn’t know anything, I would stay out of it.

But Mayuzumi returned with the visitor. The tall man looked at me.

“Higasa-san?” I muttered.

“You all right, lad? You don’t look so good. Are you getting enough sleep?” He scratched his head, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not really good with words, but you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. You can’t change a thing. There was nothing else you could do back then.”

No one could have done anything.

Higasa shook his head. I could feel his concern. Yet at the same time, an indescribable uneasiness pricked my skin.

His face was terribly pale.

“Higasa-san… Did something happen?”

“Same question,” Mayuzumi said. “If you have business here, just spit it out already, and stop stalling. You’re wasting time feeling conflicted. What are you doing here? You wanted to talk to me, no?”

Mayuzumi smiled sarcastically. She went back to the couch and sat down across from me. Keeping a straight face, she picked up a piece of chocolate. An elaborate little bird disappeared into her mouth. I quickly moved aside. Realizing my intention, Higasa gave a small bow and took his seat.

The bandages on his left arm were getting thicker. The injury inflicted by the beast had not healed yet, it seemed.

He reached his right hand into his breast pocket. My eyes widened.

Crimson peeked out from his black shirt.

Rugged fingers slowly pulled out the envelope. Made of construction paper, it looked as if it was folded by a child for fun. I was probably not too far off the mark.

The envelope was folded for fun.

The fox created this prop out of whim.

He placed the envelope on the desk and slid it forward. Mayuzumi took it wordlessly. She opened it and read the contents.

Mayuzumi sniffed audibly as she tapped the paper. Placing one arm on the backrest of the couch, she threw the paper in an arrogant manner.

On the paper were words written with red crayon. When I picked it up, the paper began shaking violently for some reason. A moment later, I realized that my hands were trembling. I gave up and put the paper back on the desk. I stared at the mockingly warped letters.