Chapter 5: The Infiltration Begins

1

On Friday afternoon, Komatsu boarded a minibus with Kiyotaka at Shijo-Karasuma. He gazed absentmindedly out the window as they headed north on Karasuma Street towards Ohara. The bus was sparsely filled; including the two of them, there were only twelve people in all. The others all looked like students. Only this many people? Then again, I guess I should be surprised there are this many at all. It’s a weekday. Don’t these kids have school? ...Come to think of it, maybe this is what all of those short runaway cases were about. I heard that kids have been running away from home, leaving letters behind, and then returning the next Sunday. They wouldn’t tell their parents where they went.

Komatsu glanced in front of him and saw the top of Kiyotaka’s head. They were sitting two rows apart. He rested his chin in his hand as he looked at the man’s sleek black hair and recalled the conversation they’d had at Kura...

“What do you mean, Yuko’s a symbol?” Komatsu asked, face pale.

“Have a look at this,” Kiyotaka said, taking a book from the shelf and opening it to a page showing standing statues of Sakra, General Kubira, Kongo Rikishi, General Anira, General Mekira, General Anchira, General Sanchira, General Haira, General Makora, General Shindara, General Shotora, and General Bikara.

“These are the Twelve Divine Generals, right?”

“Right. They’re gods of military arts and guardian deities. They represent the twelve hours, months, and directions in correspondence with Yakushi Nyorai’s twelve vows.”

“So basically, they’re Yakushi Nyorai’s followers?”

“Yes. Do you see the connection between these incidents now?” Kiyotaka crossed his arms, a cold look in his eyes.

Komatsu shivered.

“We’re here,” said the student sitting next to Komatsu.

“O-Oh, already?” Komatsu said. He’d been staring idly out the window for the majority of the trip. The bus was now inside the cypress fence around the dojo. All of the other passengers were getting off, so Komatsu hurriedly stood up and followed them. Perhaps because he was rushing, he tripped as he was getting off—but Kiyotaka caught him by the arm.

“Are you all right?” Kiyotaka asked, with a kind smile he’d never directed towards Komatsu before. He was wearing black-rimmed glasses. Komatsu didn’t know if it was because he was taking the camp seriously, or if it was supposed to be a disguise.

Oh right, we’re supposed to be strangers. “Y-Yeah, sorry about that.”

“My name is Kiyotaka Ijuin. I remember you from the seminars.” Kiyotaka used a fake name for the seminar, because not only was Yagashira an uncommon name, it was famous in certain industries as well.

“Why Ijuin?” Komatsu balked. “That’s pretentious for a fake name.”

“It’s my father’s pen name,” Kiyotaka answered plainly.

“I’m...Komatsu.”

“The others are all young, so it’s a relief to not be the oldest one here.”

“Well, sorry for being an old man.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Kiyotaka shook his head, flustered.

When he’s like this, he just looks like a well-mannered kid. Actually kind of cute... Is it because of the glasses? Komatsu began to smile.

“It’s good that we became friends quite naturally,” Kiyotaka whispered, smiling. “Well done, Komatsu.”

Komatsu facepalmed. I take back my last thought.

“Please come this way, everyone.” The staff member walked ahead of the group, leading them to the dojo. Inside, there were large shoe racks on both sides of the entrance. Everyone put their shoes away and switched into slippers.

Right in front of the entrance was a reception desk. A young woman wearing glasses explained the process in a robot-like manner: “Please write your name here and place your valuables, mobile phones, watches, cameras, and all other electronic devices in this box. They will be returned to you after the camp is over.”

Komatsu’s eyes widened. “Even my watch?”

“Yes. As was written in the guide, we will be providing samue for you—traditional work clothing worn by monks. The only items you may bring in are underwear. Now, please leave all of your belongings here and get changed in those rooms over there. Girls on the right, boys on the left.”

The other participants looked bewildered, but Kiyotaka took off his watch without hesitation, putting it, his wallet, and his phone in the box.

The woman smiled and handed him a white set of samue. “Please get changed over there.”

“Thank you.” Kiyotaka accepted the clothes and went to the changing room. Komatsu hurriedly put his valuables in the box and followed him.

The changing room was a nondescript room with tatami flooring. A man was stationed there to take all of their belongings when they finished changing.

“Please put your underwear in here,” he said, handing them black tote bags. “I’ll take you to your room now.”

“Does everyone get their own room?” Kiyotaka asked.

“No, the men will be sharing one large room. Same for the women.”

“I see.”

There were four women and eight men in the group. An eight-person room, then. I was hoping to sneak around and look for Yuko, but that seems like it’d be hard. Komatsu quietly clicked his tongue. He recalled the conversation at Kura again...

“So basically, they made Yuko a symbol of Yakushi Nyorai since they look the same, and now they’re worshipping her like it’s their religion?” Komatsu asked, leaning forward.

“Yes.” Kiyotaka nodded.

A young man was fascinated with Yutaka Kunishiro’s Yakushi Nyorai, and when he found Yuko, who looked exactly like the painting, he came up with a plan to start a religious organization. The leaders would become the Twelve Divine Generals, and Yuko would be their living goddess.

“Th-That means Yuko’s safe at least, right?” Komatsu placed his hand on his chest, relieved.

Kiyotaka looked away. “I think she’s safe. However, there’s also a good chance that she’s been placed in a situation she can’t escape from.”

“Like she’s locked up somewhere?”

“If it were just that, it’d still be salvageable... But their ‘Sakra’ is currently under arrest for possession of cannabis.”

Komatsu knew what Kiyotaka was implying: there was a chance that Yuko had been turned into a drug addict. He stood still, unable to say anything.

Kiyotaka lightly covered his mouth with his hand. “It’s inexcusable...”

“Wh-What is?”

“Thinking about that possibility being real is making me shake with anger.” His hand really was trembling. Though his expression was the same as always, it was clear that he was furious. “Komatsu, Yuko is likely being held captive at the dojo in Ohara. We will save her, no matter what it takes.”

Feeling Kiyotaka’s intense aura, Komatsu nodded firmly.

2

The participants were taken to the large room where they’d be staying. It was the size of twenty tatami mats—plenty of room, even shared between eight men. As instructed, everyone stored their tote bags containing their underwear on the shelf along the wall. Then it was time to go to the dojo.

What’re they gonna make us do? Komatsu wondered, anxious. But to his surprise, the activities were entirely focused on relaxing. First was calisthenics, followed by yoga. Then they meditated in a relaxing pose while the sound of a flowing river played in the background. The meditation was for them to “reexamine their heart.”

After that, they went to a small room where everyone introduced themselves. The idea was that since they were complete strangers, it would be easier to open up about their hidden troubles.

“My parents say it’s for my sake, but it’s really for themselves. They’re just making me do what they couldn’t. They don’t listen to me when I say what I want to do. Even if it looks like they are, they’re just pretending...”

“I’m being ignored at school, but not blatantly. I told my mom and she said, ‘Being bullied is your own fault. I don’t want to have a bullied child’...”

“The person I loved broke my heart, and I feel like I’ve lost everything...”

As people revealed their worries and complaints, everyone nodded along and agreed. They were told beforehand not to argue about anyone’s problems.

Komatsu grew nervous as his turn approached. I can’t tell them I’m worried about my missing daughter. I have to say something else...

Soon it was Kiyotaka’s turn. Komatsu moved slightly closer, wondering what he would say.

“I lost my mother at a young age and was raised by my father and my grandfather. My grandfather is egotism incarnate, and whenever I make a mistake, he yells at me loud enough that I swear it can be heard outside the house. My father is kind, but he’s incredibly self-centered. He shows concern for me, but he also makes me do all of the annoying tasks that he doesn’t want to. Before I knew it, I’d become their housekeeper, handyman, and errand boy. I’m very grateful to them for raising me, but I constantly feel depressed when I ask myself what my purpose is.”

Kiyotaka had been smiling when he started speaking, but his face slowly turned into a grimace, and at the end he looked like he was in real pain. Everyone was moved by his story.

Komatsu teared up. I thought he was so far removed from humanity that he wouldn’t have any worries, but I was wrong. He’s been through so much. Poor thing...

“Thank you for listening,” Kiyotaka said. “Next is Komatsu, right?” He looked at Komatsu and whispered in his ear, “Just do what I did. Take something trivial and exaggerate it into a sad story.”

I take back my last thought. Komatsu facepalmed again. Then he thought, That also sounded like a reminder to not talk about Yuko. He awkwardly scratched his head, sensing everyone’s eyes on him. “A long time ago...I worked at a job that made use of my special skill,” he began.

Everyone nodded, except for Kiyotaka, who gave a curious, “Oh?”

“That job came with a lot of responsibility, but I didn’t think much about it. But one day, my job heavily impacted someone’s life, and I got scared and quit. When I lost my job, I got divorced too. I tried to find a new job doing something different, but there wasn’t anything else I was capable of. My skill would be useful for my current job, but I don’t use it... Seriously, what am I doing with myself?”

Everyone was so overcome by the severity of his problem—a problem that only a grown adult could have—that they forgot to nod and give encouragement.

“You’ve all been struggling with so much,” said the female staff member, looking sincerely moved. “It must’ve been so hard.” She said kind words to each and every person, bringing tears to their eyes.

After that, everyone was given paper and a pen. They were instructed to write “what you want to become,” then an arrow, then “why you want to become this.”

Komatsu wrote “I want to be rich” followed by an arrow. I want to be rich → because I’ll be able to buy anything I want → because I want to feel fulfilled → because I’m lonely. He stopped when he realized he’d reached his true feelings.

Kiyotaka looked at Komatsu’s paper and said gently, “I think in your case, it might be ‘I want friends and family’ rather than ‘I want to be rich.’ Perhaps you feel that if you have money, your family will come back to you?”

“Sh-Shut up.” Komatsu hid his paper. “What’d you write, then?” He peeked at what Kiyotaka wrote.

I want to be more irresponsible → I want to go on a trip with my girlfriend → I want to...[redacted] with my girlfriend.

“You...took this pretty seriously, huh?”

“Yes, it just happened on its own. Well, no matter how composed I seem, if you probe into a young man’s desires, it’ll always end up like this.” Kiyotaka smiled self-deprecatingly and gently folded the paper.

“Well, good luck. I hope you get to go on that trip.”

“Unfortunately, that would be skipping ahead.”

“Skipping ahead?”

“We’re still at the hand-holding stage.”

“What?”

“So my next goal is to at least interlock our fingers when we hold hands.”

“Oh. Good luck with that,” Komatsu said halfheartedly.

The day continued with everyone eating teacakes together and discussing what they wanted for themselves. When they understood the inside of their hearts, it was time to burn incense and meditate.

Sharing his troubles with strangers and laying his heart bare had Komatsu feeling utterly healed. Is this camp really a bad thing? If Yuko gave up on getting along with her mother and came here to relax, that might not even be a problem, he thought as he sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.

Before long, the incense’s scent transformed into something unique. It smelled like smoking leaves. Komatsu frowned. He remembered this smell from a certain shop in a foreign country. Isn’t this cannabis? He opened his eyes and was about to stand up, when—

“This is the smell of sage, right?” Kiyotaka said, as if to stop him.

“Yes, it’s sage,” answered the staff. “It’s said that sage’s unique aroma is the best for soothing the heart. It’s also said to have been an essential medicinal herb for Native Americans since ancient times. It dispels evil influences and reverses negative thoughts and feelings. It’s also said that the smell of sage is extremely similar to that of hemp and cannabis.”

“Huh?” The other participants, including Komatsu, looked surprised.

“Oh, there’s no need to be scared. Today’s Japan is overly sensitive. Cannabis is different from narcotics. It’s much less harmful to the body than tobacco and it doesn’t cause addiction. In fact, when you become accustomed to it, it becomes a powerful support for your nervous system and it has the power to regulate your mind and body. According to Shintoism, it also purifies sins. Due to differences in how civilizations developed, there are some places where it’s seen as a terrible evil. However, I believe that even this country will one day correct its judgment and legalize it.” The staff spoke enthusiastically.

The other participants seemed interested, but Komatsu’s newly healed heart quickly went cold.

“This is how they brainwash them,” Kiyotaka murmured quietly. His smile may have looked gentle to the others, but Komatsu knew that the young man was seething with anger.

◆　◆　◆

“I wonder if Holmes and Komatsu are okay.” I looked at the time—it was 7 p.m. I was in an RV with the manager, Rikyu, and Yuko’s mother, Masami. We were on standby on high ground overlooking the dojo.

“He’d be fine right now,” said Rikyu from up on the loft. “Since it’s Kiyo, he’d investigate the building during the day and take action at night. Hopefully Komatsu doesn’t weigh him down.” Despite his lighthearted tone, he was constantly watching the dojo through binoculars. He seemed more worried than his words let on. Masami’s the most worried of us all, though—when we told her what was happening, she asked to come with us. She’s been shaky and pale ever since.

“I never thought it’d end up like this,” Masami mumbled, biting her thumbnail. “Even though she ran away from home, I thought we’d just have another argument and then she’d come back...” Her eyes were wide open, but I couldn’t tell where she was looking.

“Are you all right, Masami?” I asked, sitting beside her and patting her shoulder.

“I don’t blame you,” said the manager, who’d been observing the situation. He walked up to us and said, “You won’t be able to calm down here, right? Shall I book a room at a nearby inn?”

Masami shook her head and relaxed her expression ever so slightly. “No, I want to stay here. Besides, this RV of yours is amazing. I’ve never been in one before.”

“I borrowed it from a friend who’s quite the outdoorsman.”

This RV belonged to Ueda, the manager’s friend and a familiar face at Kura.

“I’d gladly lend it if Kiyotaka was driving it, but you?”

He did let us borrow it, but he seemed extremely reluctant. The manager was very kind and mild-mannered, and he was an amazing author...but he was hopelessly careless at times, so none of his friends trusted him with such things.

On the other hand, he had my parents’ utmost faith. When I said, “I’m going with the people from work on an outdoor RV trip, and the manager will be with us,” they let me go without question. I obviously couldn’t tell them the truth.

“Hm?” Rikyu leaned forward with his binoculars.

“What happened?” Everyone quickly gave him their attention.

“A motorcycle stopped in front of the dojo.”

“Huh?” We all leaned out the window. It was hard to see from this far away, but there was certainly a motorcycle parked in front of the gate. Someone—probably a man—got off the bike, took off his helmet, and pressed the button on the intercom. He gestured with his hands as he spoke to whoever was on the other end, and after a while, he slumped his shoulders and turned to go back to his bike.

“I’m going,” said Rikyu.

“Wait, Rikyu!” I called, but it was too late. Rikyu jumped out of the car without a moment to spare and ran down the mountain road at lightning speed. I quickly picked up the binoculars and looked at the person on the bike—it was Hiro Haraguchi.

By the time we caught up to Rikyu, he already had the man pinned down. Hiro Haraguchi laid on the ground, looking baffled as to who the boy sitting on top of him was.

“Oh, there you guys are,” Rikyu said. “I caught this guy. Can you bring over the rope that’s in the car? We brought a lot of it.” He waved at us cheerfully with that carefree smile of his.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Masami murmured, stunned.

◆　◆　◆

For dinner, all of the participants gathered in the kitchen and cooked together. The menu was set for them: pork miso soup, stewed squash, chicken teriyaki, and potato salad. Everything was prepared in large quantities because the staff would be eating their cooking as well.

They placed their bowls of rice and side dishes on trays and went to the dining hall. It was a bit of a dreary room, with long white tables under fluorescent tube lamps. Then again, maybe this is what cafeterias are supposed to be like. But hey, this food looks pretty good. Komatsu looked down at his dinner and grinned.

“Since it’s a camp, I was expecting curry or a barbecue,” Kiyotaka said in a slightly unhappy tone as he sat down.

“Are you disappointed?”

“I was hoping to cook with a mess kit. Instead, the menu was fairly normal.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Are you into outdoorsy stuff?” Komatsu looked at Kiyotaka, surprised. Seiji Yagashira and Takeshi Ijuin didn’t strike him as the outdoorsy type.

“Yes, Ueda—my father’s friend—often took me out with him. I’ll never forget the excitement of those special outings that I didn’t usually get to experience.”

“Food cooked with a mess kit sure tastes good, huh?”

“It does. It’s a shame, because that was the only thing I was looking forward to. But thanks to this, I’ve ascertained the number of people lurking in this building besides the staff,” Kiyotaka whispered.

Komatsu looked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. Aside from the man who drove the bus, the receptionist, and the woman at the dojo, there are five or six other people. They went left from the kitchen with their food, so they should be on that side of the building.”

“That includes my daughter, right...?”

“I believe so. Since they eat the food that the students make, they can’t have it be curry or barbeque every time.” Kiyotaka put down his chopsticks. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, quietly standing up.

“Uh, you’re leaving in the middle of dinner?”

“It has to be now. The staff are eating too, so it’ll be easier to explore the premises. Please wait here, Komatsu.” He placed his hand on his abdomen and left the cafeteria. To the others, it would’ve looked like he had a sudden need to use the bathroom.

3

Kiyotaka moved quickly around the building. An earlier peek at the office from afar had shown the bus driver staring at a computer with a bored look on his face. The monitor displayed footage from six security cameras. The main focus seemed to be watching for intruders from outside, so there was one camera at the entrance and four on the outer fence in each cardinal direction. The last camera showed a door somewhere.

The layout of this building has the dojo in the center. To the south are the entrance and the office, to the east are the lodging rooms, and to the west are the kitchen and dining hall. That leaves north.

Kiyotaka went left from the dining hall, heading north of the dojo. There was a separate building there, surrounded by a porch. He walked carefully so as to not make any sound on the wood floor. “Hm?” He stopped, looked down at his feet for a moment, then looked back up and resumed walking.

The north building was octagonal, reminding him of the Yumedono Hall at Horyu-ji Temple. It was exactly what the monitor had shown.

The door had a combined fingerprint and password lock. “Of course.” Kiyotaka slumped his shoulders. I won’t be able to guess the password if I don’t know how long it is. But since the keyboard mounted on the wall has a liquid-crystal display, I might be able to use the fingerprints on it as a hint.

Out of curiosity, he touched it. The screen displayed: “No matching fingerprint found. Please enter the password.” It also showed the number one in kanji.

One...? And why is it in kanji? He furrowed his brow.

Gulping, he entered “komyofusho.” The number three appeared next. This time, he entered “semujinbutsu.” Next was the number ten, for which he quickly entered “kunogedatsu.”

The words referred to Yakushi Nyorai’s twelve vows:

Komyo fusho: I vow to illuminate the world with my light.

Zuii joben: I vow to awaken all humans to the path of enlightenment.

Semu jinbutsu: I vow to provide the necessary environment for all humans to attain enlightenment.

Anshin daijo: I vow to correct those who have gone astray, guiding all humans to the Buddhist way.

Gukai shojo: Those who break the precepts, I vow to guide them back to the correct path.

Shokon gusoku: Those who are disabled or ailing, I vow to save them from their suffering.

Jobyo anraku: I vow to heal all humans of their sickness and pain.

Tennyo tokubutsu: I vow to remove the disadvantages suffered by women.

Anshin shoken: I vow to guide humans such that their mental anguish and worldly desires may be purified.

Kuno gedatsu: I vow to liberate humans from the pressure that bears down on them.

Onjiki anraku: I vow to guide all humans such that they shall never suffer from hunger or thirst.

Mie manzoku: I vow to grant all humans clothing and spiritual comfort, guiding them such that they may attain a satisfied mind and body.

These were Yakushi Nyorai’s twelve great vows, and the Twelve Divine Generals existed in accordance with them.

So if the fingerprint doesn’t match, it displays random numbers and I have to enter the corresponding vow. A bit of a hassle, but easily dealt with, Kiyotaka thought, only for the next number to be thirteen. He stared at it. Yakushi Nyorai only has twelve vows, but it’s asking for number thirteen. This is likely their secret password. Could it be “Unbound,” then? It seems too simple, but since the twelve vows were kept as-is, a straightforward approach might be best.

He entered “unbound” and the lock made an unsuccessful beeping sound. He clicked his tongue.

“What are you doing over there?” came a voice from behind him.

Kiyotaka immediately hit the reset button and slowly turned around. The man who’d been driving the bus was glaring at him. “I felt like exploring,” Kiyotaka said sheepishly, scratching his head.

The man sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Didn’t they tell you that the North Hall is off-limits?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t hear that. So this is called the North Hall? Do the staff live here?”

After a pause, the man said, “We have a special guest over. It’s dinnertime now, so please go back.”

“All right.”

Kiyotaka returned to the dining hall with the man.

After dinner, Komatsu took a cigarette out of his pocket and headed for the courtyard.

“Oh? They didn’t confiscate your cigarettes?” Kiyotaka asked, eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah, apparently they don’t because this camp is supposed to be a place for relaxation. It’s just that you can only smoke in the designated area in the courtyard, and not after lights-out at 10 p.m. They also said to try to smoke less than usual.” Komatsu opened the sliding door to the courtyard, cigarette in mouth.

“I see. May I have one too?”

“Wait, you smoke?”

“Not usually.” Kiyotaka smiled suggestively.

Komatsu immediately got the message and gave him a cigarette.

They went outside. The wind was slightly chilly. Komatsu looked up to see a dim white moon hanging in the cloudy sky. He lit his cigarette with a flick of his lighter.

“Excuse me,” Kiyotaka said, putting his cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with the end of Komatsu’s.

“What is this, a movie?”

“A famous example would be Alain Delon in Farewell, Friend.”

“You know old movies too, huh?” Komatsu snorted.

Kiyotaka took a deep puff of his cigarette.

“The way you handle that, you sure don’t look like a nonsmoker,” Komatsu remarked.

“I’ve smoked before.” Kiyotaka laughed.

“That’s kind of surprising.”

“I did it occasionally at parties.”

“Huh. You don’t normally get the urge?”

“No, because I don’t want to be controlled by anything.”

“Controlled?”

“Most smokers let it dictate their lives, right? They go around looking for places where they can smoke, they always set aside time for smoking, and they need to have money to buy smokes. It’s also bad for their health. I would never let myself be controlled by such a thing.” Kiyotaka looked down at his cigarette and sneered.

“This hurts to listen to...”

“I don’t mean to criticize smokers. Everyone is free to do as they like, as long as they follow proper etiquette.”

“Anyway, did you find anything earlier? That’s what you wanted to talk about, right?”

“Yes. There’s an octagonal building north of the dojo called the North Hall. She’s most likely in there.”

Komatsu closed his mouth and gulped.

“However, it’s locked by a fingerprint reader and a password.”

“D-Do you know the password?”

“I made it partway through, but it’s unlikely that I’ll succeed in cracking it.” Kiyotaka smiled, unashamed.

“What?”

“I tried thinking of words related to Yakushi Nyorai, the Twelve Divine Generals, and Unbound, but so long as I don’t know how long the password is, I can’t risk getting it wrong. Most password security systems lock you out after three attempts.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“There’s also the option of capturing a staff member and forcing the answer out of them, but it’s too dangerous. It can only be our last resort. Since they’re holding Yuko hostage, I don’t want to use any reckless methods.”

“Okay, so how about you go and seduce one of the female staff into telling you the password?” Komatsu said with a serious face.

Kiyotaka shrugged. “More importantly, you know the management office near the south entrance?”

“Y-Yeah?” Was there one? Komatsu tilted his head.

“This building has security cameras set up, but there wasn’t one in the office that oversees them. There were also several computers in that office.”

“Yeah, there would be.”

“Komatsu, how many minutes would it take you to disable the security at the North Hall?” Kiyotaka asked with a sideways glance at Komatsu.

“Huh?” Komatsu blinked.

“I know you’re capable of disabling it. Now how many minutes would it take?”

Komatsu looked away. “Wh-What’re you talking about?”

“You’re a skilled hacker, right? Your previous job must’ve made use of that ability. After you left, you started working as a detective because you could use your hacking skill to your advantage, but you ended up sealing it away and never using it. But the other day, you lifted the seal and used your power to get information on Hiro Haraguchi. Am I mistaken?”

Komatsu gasped.

“Your skill was recognized and you came from Kanto to Kyoto. Could it be that your previous job was at one of the greatest cyber teams in the world, the Kyoto—”

“I...!” Komatsu interrupted. “I... You’re right. I used to belong to the cyber team at a certain organization. I won’t say which. At the time, I stole information and sometimes manipulated it, believing that I was doing the right thing. But the information I gathered drove an honest person to their death. They were only a sacrificial pawn, not a ringleader...” He grimaced and clenched his fists.

“And then you no longer knew what was right, so you left your job.”

Even though Komatsu only gave bits and pieces of information, Kiyotaka seemed to see the whole picture. Just how much of a mind reader is this kid? Komatsu laughed self-deprecatingly and scratched his head. “Yeah.”

“But you lifted the seal on your power for your daughter’s sake. That power hasn’t waned, right? How long will it take to crack the security?”

“For an amateur organization like this, ten minutes is enough.” Komatsu smiled, albeit stiffly.

“In that case, shortly after lights-out, I will call the man in the office to the courtyard and buy as much time as I can. The rest is on you.”

“All right... I think it’ll be hard to keep his attention, though.”

“Indeed. So please finish the job in ten minutes.” Kiyotaka gave him a light smack on the shoulder.

Komatsu placed his hand on his forehead and said, “Will do.”

After dinner, everyone took turns bathing. When they returned to their room, they each laid out their own bedding. The rooms had books, playing cards, shogi, and Othello for people to occupy themselves with.

Some time later, a female staff member came by and said, “Let’s do some yoga to help you sleep.” They did simple exercises that resembled calisthenics. All of the participants had refreshed looks on their faces. Maybe it was because they’d spent the whole day without smartphones or internet access, instead meditating, re-examining their hearts, and at times, crying.

This would be a praiseworthy camp, if only it weren’t backed by such a sketchy organization, Komatsu thought, looking at the others with a strained smile.

“Now then, it’s ten o’clock, so it’s time to turn off the lights,” the woman said with a smile. “Tomorrow we’ll be waking up at five—it’s early, so go to sleep. If you need anything, the other female staff and I will be in the next room over, and a male staff member will be in the office.”

“Okay,” everyone said as they got into their futons. The lights were turned off, and the staff’s footsteps faded into the distance.

Komatsu laid in his futon and stared at the ceiling. He recalled what Kiyotaka had said: “After I leave the room, get up right away and go towards the restroom.”

The room wasn’t pitch black. It had Japanese-style footlights that gave off faint light. Though it felt like a high school field trip, many people had already fallen fast asleep. Maybe it’s because we’re all strangers, or because of that yoga we did. Komatsu nervously honed his senses on Kiyotaka, who was lying next to him.

Around twenty minutes after lights-out, Kiyotaka quietly rose and left the room. Komatsu did what he was told and left for the restroom.

“Excuse me, there’s something I really need to ask you,” Kiyotaka called out to the man in the office. “Oh, no, not here...”

Komatsu watched him as he entered the restroom. Is this really gonna be okay? He squatted down and sighed deeply. He had no urge to relieve himself, so he opened the door slightly and listened until he heard footsteps moving farther and farther away. Looks like he pulled it off somehow.

Komatsu’s heart pounded as he quietly snuck into the office. On top of a long steel desk, there was a desktop computer with a large monitor, a monitor showing the security camera footage, and two laptops.

With two computers, this’ll be a piece of cake. Komatsu looked around and then sat down.

◆　◆　◆

“All right, what’d you want to ask?” The man glared at Kiyotaka with a suspicious frown. He’d been taken out to the courtyard.

“There is something I must do every night or else I cannot sleep. It’s very annoying to others, though, so I’ve been refraining. But...” Kiyotaka murmured, looking down timidly.

The man crossed his arms. “What is it?”

“First, let me explain so that you don’t get the wrong idea. Have you heard of the saying, ‘It’s bad luck to whistle at night’?”

“Yeah, because snakes will come out...”

“Yes, the saying varies depending on the region. It could be snakes, demons, thieves, or evil spirits that come out when you whistle at night. As for how this saying came to exist, there is an old word for ‘whistle,’ ‘uso.’ Also, in certain regional dialects, whistles are apparently called ‘uso’ or ‘oso.’ It’s said that the whistle ‘uso’ and the whistle ‘oso’ share the same origin as the ‘uso’ and ‘osogoto’ that mean ‘lies,’ which means we can consider that lying was also called ‘oso’ in ancient times. Now, this is just my hypothesis, but what if ‘oso’ was also the oldest word for ‘whistle’? This makes sense because ‘oso’ has another meaning—a sign that calls forth deities or spirits of the dead. From this, we can surmise that the folk belief of ‘whistling calling forth something or other’ came from these meanings. Additionally, in the Tohoku region, slave dealers whistled in the middle of the night as a signal that they’d come to buy children. So the saying also could’ve been meant as a warning for children...”

The man stood there, dumbfounded. His face stiffened slightly as he stared at Kiyotaka rambling on and on about “uso,” “oso,” and whistles.

◆　◆　◆

Komatsu got right to work. Though he was used to handling computers, his hands were shaking.

First I’ll download two programs onto this computer. This is free software that anyone can get. It’ll be more than enough for now. Next I’ll unzip the first program. Then move the second program and hit “Run.” As expected, the antivirus software popped up a warning. Close it and move on to the settings. Then write the code.

His mind became clearer as he furiously typed away. Right, I’ve broken through way stronger security than this. This is nothing.

...But buy me as much time as you can.

Listening to the high-speed clacking of the keys under his fingers, he focused on the screen, forgetting to even blink.

◆　◆　◆

“Also, when you say that whistling brings snakes out, the word for ‘snakes’ is ‘ja,’ which we can also hear in ‘jaaku,’ the word for ‘evil.’ If whistling brings out ‘evil,’ then...”

“Okay, wait... Hey!” Tired of waiting, the man waved his hands in Kiyotaka’s face.

Kiyotaka looked at him with a serious expression. “Sorry, mister.”

“The name’s Yamashita.”

“Okay, Yamashita. I understand that you want me to stop. But please, listen to the rest of my story. I’m almost done. This is very important to me.”

“The whistle story is that important?”

“Yes... Even if you believe in these kinds of superstitions, there is not much evidence to back them up. You know how some people say ‘kuwabara kuwabara’ when they hear thunder?”

“Yeah...”

“There are various theories behind that one. Apparently it originates from Sugawara no Michizane, though he did not say it himself. In the Heian period, Sugawara no Michizane was framed by a rival and demoted to dazaifu, a regional government in Kyushu. It’s said that he died full of resentment and became a vengeful ghost that rained thunderbolts on the imperial palace. When the people of Kyoto heard thunder, they thought it was the work of Michizane’s ghost, so they said, ‘It must be safe in Kuwabara, where Sugawara no Michizane lived.’ That is supposedly how the ‘kuwabara kuwabara’ chant came to be.”

“So...Kuwabara was the name of the place where Sugawara no Michizane lived.” Yamashita folded his arms. He was starting to seem somewhat interested.

“Yes, and on Marutamachi Street in Nakagyo-ku, on the south side of the imperial palace, there is a curious neighborhood named Kuwabara.”

“Curious?”

“Currently, it only consists of the small section of road between the palace and the courthouse.”

“Oh, so they kept the name there because of Sugawara no Michizane.” Yamashita nodded. He’d gotten absorbed in Kiyotaka’s story.

“I think so too.”

Yamashita suddenly looked up. “So are you done now? I’m leaving.”

“No, this is where the important part begins. Back to what I was saying about whistling...”

“That again?!”

“Yes, that was the main issue. It’s said that whistling at night calls forth evil, but when I was a child, I remembered it as the opposite. I mistakenly thought the saying was ‘whistling at night cleanses evil,’ and was not corrected until I was older.”

“Uh...”

“I’m quite paranoid. Ever since I was a child, I whistled at night before going to sleep to exorcise evil beings. Even after finding out that I was mistaken, I couldn’t shake the habit. If I don’t whistle at night, I simply cannot sleep. The reason why I told you all of this was to convey that right now, though I know I’m wrong, I must whistle. I am hoping that you will not judge me for whistling out of the blue,” Kiyotaka rambled.

“Oh, for crying out loud...” Yamashita scratched his head. “So basically, you want to whistle before you go to sleep? Hurry up and do it, then!”

“Thank you. I apologize for the disturbance.” Kiyotaka bowed, placed his index finger and thumb on his lips, and whistled. The clear sound echoed through the night sky like a bird’s chirp. He sighed, placed his hand on his chest, and said with a smile, “Thank you. Now I can sleep in peace.”

“Good for you. Now go.” Yamashita clicked his tongue as he took off his shoes, opened the door, and went back inside the building.

“The female staff here are very nice, but I can’t quite say the same for you.”

“They’re counseling specialists. I’m just a manager.”

“I see.” Kiyotaka went inside with Yamashita and gulped as he watched the man head towards the office. That should’ve been more than ten minutes. Did Komatsu succeed? “I’d like to use the restroom before I go to sleep, if I may.”

“Just go then,” Yamashita spat, continuing towards the office.

Kiyotaka frowned. If he’s still in the office, this is going to be messy.

Suddenly, Yamashita stopped and shouted, “Hey, what’re you doing?”

◆　◆　◆

Later in the night, we moved the RV closer to the dojo. Hiro Haraguchi’s motorcycle was parked next to it. Rikyu had tied up the man and interrogated him, threatening him in nasty ways with a smile that rivaled Holmes’s in its evilness.

“There’s still a lot he hasn’t told me, but I get the gist of it now. I wish I could tell Kiyo this new info,” Rikyu said, sighing. The two of us were sitting in camping chairs outside the car. The manager, Masami, and Hiro Haraguchi were still inside, talking.

“But his phone got confiscated, so we can’t contact him,” I said, looking up at the sky. It was cloudy when we arrived, but the clouds eventually drifted away. Now there was a clear view of the moon hanging in the sky. Kyoto is one of the biggest cities in Japan, but it doesn’t have skyscrapers or neon lights, so you can see stars at night. Since Ohara is a rural village, the twinkling stars here are even more beautiful.

I wonder how Holmes and Komatsu are doing in there. I was so worried.

Suddenly, I heard something that sounded like a birdcall.

“That’s the signal!” Rikyu shouted, standing up and opening the car door. “Manager, we got the signal. Help me out.”

“S-Signal?” I stood up too, looking around frantically. What’s going on?

“Yeah, it’s Kiyo’s signal. Since there was only one whistle, it means ‘sneak inside.’ If there were two, it’d mean ‘call the police and then barge inside.’ So it’s not an emergency right now.” Rikyu put on a backpack. Apparently he and Holmes had discussed this at some point.

The manager immediately came out from the car. He seemed to be aware of the plan too. The two of them hurried to the fence surrounding the dojo. It was about three meters high, and there was a security camera slowly panning back and forth.

“It’s a simple camera that just turns left and right,” Rikyu said. “There’s no sensor, so I can just jump the fence when it’s turned away.” Making sure not to look at the camera, he took off his sneakers and tied them together with the laces.

What’s he doing?

As soon as the camera wasn’t looking, he threw the shoes over the fence and listened carefully. “All right, doesn’t seem like there’s any sensors inside either. Come here, Manager.”

The manager nodded and walked up to the fence. “I’m not sure if I can do it, but...” He stooped down and put his hands together, like a receive position in volleyball. But unlike in volleyball, his palms were face up.

Rikyu stepped back from the fence and glanced at the camera. The moment it changed direction, he shouted, “Here goes!” and ran forward, stepping on the manager’s palms with one foot. The manager winced as he lifted his hands. The momentum was enough for Rikyu to grab the top edge of the fence, after which he flipped in the air and cleanly made it over. The whole process took about ten seconds.

I gaped, feeling as if I’d just watched a circus act. “Rikyu’s incredible...” It wasn’t just Rikyu; the manager also did a fine job. Impressed, I turned to look at the manager—who had his hand on his lower back.

“My back...”

“A-Are you okay?” I panicked and rubbed his back. I could hear Rikyu running through the grass on the other side of the fence.

◆　◆　◆

“Your name was Komatsu, right? What’re you doing there?” asked Yamashita in a low voice. He happened to see Komatsu when he turned the corner. He looked at the box of cigarettes in the man’s hand and frowned. “Where are you going with those cigarettes? Didn’t they tell you that you can’t smoke inside?”

“Well...” Komatsu placed his hand on the back of his head. “They said we can’t smoke after ten, so I was going to hide in the bathroom and do it.” He gave an awkward shrug and bowed.

“No smoking after lights-out is a recommendation, not a rule. It’d be worse for us if you did it in the bathroom, so go to the smoking area in the courtyard.”

“Okay. Sorry about this.” Komatsu hurried towards the courtyard, seeming relieved.

“Ah, Komatsu, could I have one as well?” Kiyotaka asked with a smile, following him. “I’d like to have a puff before going to the restroom.”

After confirming that Yamashita had grumpily returned to the office, they turned the corner and pumped their fists.

“You succeeded, right?”

“Yeah, somehow.”

The two of them ignored the courtyard and hurried to the North Hall.

“How’d you keep that cranky guy occupied?” Komatsu asked. “Must’ve been hard.”

“I was as annoying as humanly possible.” Kiyotaka ran silently, his footsteps inaudible.

“What?” Komatsu tilted his head.

“What is the state of the security now?” Kiyotaka asked, dashing through the passage.

“The cameras are looping the past thirty minutes, making it look like nothing’s happening. The North Hall door’s unlocked.”

“Thank you. However, it’s going to be a race against time.”

“Yeah...” If someone goes to the North Hall, they’ll notice the security’s down. We have to secure Yuko before that. Komatsu clenched his fists pleadingly.

The North Hall building soon came into view. When they reached the path leading to it, they stopped for a moment, exchanged looks, and nervously proceeded, careful to not make any noise.

Kiyotaka looked down at the floor and stopped.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“There’s something strange about this floor. I noticed it earlier too.”

“Strange?”

“Yes. It’s as if there’s a hollow space under here. The floor feels like duckboards on top of a wooden foundation. And something smells sweet.”

The path was about a meter and a half wide. Despite what Kiyotaka said, the floor was made of polished wooden boards. It didn’t look like slatted duckboards at all.

Kiyotaka knelt down on one knee.

“Wh-What’re you doing?” Komatsu asked.

“There must be something under here.” Kiyotaka pressed firmly on a floorboard and the other end rose up like it really was a slat, allowing him to remove it. He quickly touched the temple of his glasses and the bridge lit up.

“Those glasses were a flashlight?”

“They’re actually a camera.”

“What else can they do?”

“You don’t know? I thought you were a detective. These are sold as spy glasses, and unfortunately, mine only function as a camera.” Kiyotaka peeked under the floor. As he’d suspected, there was a hollow space underneath that was full of bright green plants. The leaves looked similar to maple leaves, but with a slightly different shape. Someone who didn’t know better might’ve thought it was a relative of Japanese mugwort.

“This is...decisive evidence, right?” Kiyotaka asked.

“Uh-huh.”

It’s cannabis. Kiyotaka smiled, took a picture, returned the floorboard to its place, and stood back up. “Now then, let’s go inside.”

“Yeah.”

Kiyotaka stood in front of the entrance to the North Hall and put his hand on the dark double doors. They were quite imposing. “Komatsu, were you able to see inside with the security cameras?”

“No, the monitor didn’t show what was inside, so it doesn’t seem like there are any cameras in there.”

“I see. It could be that recording the contents of this building would later come back to bite them.” He pushed the door open, making a loud creaking noise. As the building’s outer shape suggested, the room inside was an octagonal hall. There was a golden altar directly ahead of the entrance, lit up by softly glowing lanterns on both sides. A similarly golden canopy hung from the ceiling. The most eye-catching feature, however, was the Yakushi Nyorai hanging scroll in the center of the altar...

“Masami...” Komatsu murmured.

Kiyotaka nodded slightly. The others thought that this Yakushi Nyorai was the spitting image of Yuko, but Komatsu sees his ex-wife, Masami. “It’s beautiful. Truly, a beautiful Yakushi Nyorai.” He’d seen the hanging scroll once before, but it gave off a different aura now that it was adorning an altar. They really are worshipping her. It pained him to think that, but he, too, was fascinated by the painting’s beauty.

“But out of all the gods and buddha out there, why’d it have to be Yakushi Nyorai?” Komatsu sighed and looked down.

“They were charmed by this hanging scroll. Also, as I said before, Yakushi Nyorai is a buddha of healing that cures physical and emotional pain—perhaps the perfect fit for people who are worn out from today’s stressful society. The people here use their mental health seminar to find those who are mentally fatigued and easy to manipulate, and then they convert them into believers.”

“That’s terrible...” Komatsu said sincerely, knowing how much the seminar had healed him.

“Indeed, I’m seething with rage. They’re using the Medicine Buddha for their own selfish desires, trampling on the faith.”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose this is the ‘main temple’ where only the chosen followers may enter. There should be an entrance to the living quarters. I’ll search the left side; you search the right side and behind the altar.” The walls were covered in bright curtains in the colors of the Japanese Buddhist flag: red, blue, yellow, white, and green. The door was somewhere behind them.

“Gotcha.” Komatsu quickly went to investigate the right side of the hall and was caught off guard when he found a door almost immediately. “There’s a door over here!” he shouted.

It was a simple metal door with a round, silver doorknob. There was a keyhole in the middle of the doorknob.

“It’s locked,” Komatsu said.

“Didn’t you disable the security?” Kiyotaka said as he ran over.

“I can’t open analog locks like this,” Komatsu said with a sarcastic laugh.

“An analog lock... This calls for an analog solution, then.” Kiyotaka took a deep breath.

Komatsu’s eyes lit up. “Are you gonna pick the lock with a couple of wires?”

“No, I’m going to break the doorknob.”

“That’s what you meant?!”

“We’ve come this far. It’s time to force our way through. Please stand back, Komatsu.” Kiyotaka took a step back from the door, clenched his fists, and was about to swing his leg, when—

“I knew there was something fishy about you guys.” The door to the North Hall opened and Yamashita came in.

Kiyotaka stopped in his tracks. He and Komatsu both turned around.

Yamashita stood imposingly at the entrance, a fiendish look on his face. He must’ve been showing quite a bit of restraint earlier—he seemed like a completely different person now.

Komatsu shrunk back, but Kiyotaka merely grinned and said, “Fishy? I disagree, Yamashita. What was so fishy about me?”

I’m surprised he can smile in a situation like this, Komatsu thought, glancing at Kiyotaka before looking at Yamashita. So that guy’s name is Yamashita. It’s a common last name so I can’t be sure, but Hiro Haraguchi did have a friend named Yamashita. He furrowed his brow as he searched his memory.

“Everything,” Yamashita said. “You’re not the kind of person that participates in this camp.”

“Is that so? Well, even if that’s the case, why did you leave the office and come here?”

Yeah, even if he thought the kid was suspicious, the camera wouldn’t have shown anything.

“One of the participants said that you and Komatsu never came back to the room.”

“Ah, so that’s what it was.” Kiyotaka nodded in understanding.

“How much do you know about us?” Yamashita asked, slowly walking closer.

“First of all, we found the cannabis under the passage.”

“Oh, so you know too much.” Yamashita snorted and grabbed Kiyotaka by the collar. He raised his fist for a punch, but Kiyotaka immediately kicked him in the pivot foot, throwing him off balance. Kiyotaka used that opportunity to knee him in the stomach. Yamashita coughed and crouched down, clutching his abdomen.

Kiyotaka stood in front of him and grinned. “Sorry, I don’t like to touch things that disgust me, so I only trained in foot techniques. As a result, I just can’t keep my feet still.”

A chill ran down Komatsu’s spine.

Yamashita gritted his teeth and, from his crouched position, headbutted Kiyotaka in the solar plexus. It was a clean hit. Kiyotaka coughed and stumbled back, and Yamashita immediately raised his fist. A loud smack echoed through the hall.

Komatsu, who’d closed his eyes without thinking, opened them and saw that Kiyotaka had blocked Yamashita’s fist with his palm.

“Sorry for making you touch something disgusting,” Yamashita said with a sneer.

Kiyotaka smiled stiffly and said, “Indeed. I wasn’t expecting your head to come flying at me. You were like a human torpedo.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s fitting for an organization’s sacrificial pawn, isn’t it?”

“I ain’t a pawn.”

“My apologies. Were you part of this drug cult’s management?”

“Cannabis is different from dangerous drugs like cocaine and heroin. It’s not addictive, and it’s legal in a lot of countries. Even in Japan, it used to be used in rituals. It’s used in medical treatment to relax the mind. Japan’s behind the times. We should legalize it like other countries have.” Yamashita’s arm shook as he pressed his fist into Kiyotaka’s hand.

“Ah, so Unbound’s goal is legalizing cannabis. ‘Unbound,’ another word for ‘loose-leaf.’ In other words, setting loose the restrictions on cannabis.”

“You knew that much...?”

“That aside, you said ‘we should legalize it like other countries have.’ Didn’t anyone ever tell you when you were a child, ‘We have our rules; they have theirs’?”

Yamashita laughed. “That’s a ridiculous saying.”

“I used to think it was ridiculous too, but now, I fully agree with it. Why do you think our country is able to maintain such peace? Is it not because things like guns and cannabis, which are legal in other countries, are prohibited here? The idea that cannabis isn’t addictive makes me laugh. I don’t know what it’s composed of, but humans even get addicted to their smartphones, so they would surely get addicted to cannabis too. Also, humans don’t know how to stop their desires. Once they’ve experienced the pleasure of doping, they’ll surely try to escalate it. In other countries, most of the people who’ve tried cocaine apparently started with marijuana. And above all, we can see right here that cannabis is being used as a tool to manipulate people. This is proof of its danger.” Kiyotaka glared at Yamashita.

Yamashita clicked his tongue. “You really never run out of things to say, huh?”

“Thank you. But Yamashita, do you seriously want Japan to legalize cannabis?”

“What?”

“If that plant becomes legal and anyone can buy it easily, you won’t be able to make a fortune on it anymore. Your group should be against legalization. That campaign is just an excuse, right?”

Yamashita sneered. “I’ve never met a man as annoying as you before. I was gonna tie you up, strip you, and take an embarrassing video to blackmail you with, but it doesn’t look like that’s gonna cut it.”

“You were thinking such vulgar things?”

“Yeah, but change of plans.” Yamashita sprung away from Kiyotaka and hit the alarm on the wall. There was a loud ringing sound.

Komatsu heard the rumbling noise of footsteps coming from the other side of the door and hurriedly moved away. Moments later, the door was thrust open, and three men brandishing wooden swords and survival knives rushed in. They clearly looked like outlaws—likely Hiro Haraguchi’s friends from his biker gang.

The men’s eyes widened in surprise when they saw Kiyotaka and Komatsu in the main temple.

“I thought the emergency alarm was for a drill, but there really are intruders?!”

“Who are these guys? Dad and son?”

“No,” Yamashita said cheerfully, shaking his head. “I don’t know who they are, but they sniffed us out and came to find evidence. Capture them and find out who they’re working for.”

“What?” one of the men said. “You couldn’t capture them by yourself? It’s just an old man and a skinny pretty boy.”

“The pretty boy’s more skilled than he looks.”

While they were talking, Kiyotaka swiftly took off his glasses and shoved them at Komatsu. “Take this and run away,” he whispered.

“Wait, there’s no way you’re strong enough to take on four of them,” Komatsu said, panicking as he put the glasses in his pocket with shaky hands.

“That’s why you need to run,” Kiyotaka whispered.

Komatsu clammed up, sensing that the fight was unavoidable.

“But first, stay behind me,” Kiyotaka continued. “After the fight breaks out, look for an opportunity and run. If you whistle twice, my father will call the police.”

Komatsu nodded silently.

“What’re you whispering about?” Yamashita sneered. “Having a strategy meeting?”

“Precisely.” Kiyotaka smiled.

The men stopped laughing and gave Kiyotaka sharp looks.

“While we’re here, there’s something I wanted to ask, if I may,” Kiyotaka said.

“If you may? Well aren’t you polite,” one of the men said with a laugh.

“What is it?” Yamashita asked with a mocking look.

“Are the female staff and the seminar teacher part of your group?” Kiyotaka asked.

“No, those are professional counselors we hired. If they get in our way, we’ll just fire those well-meaning people.” Yamashita gave an exaggerated shrug. The men behind him burst out laughing.

Komatsu was a bit relieved to hear that. He was even happy now that he knew the people who’d given him such earnest emotional support were sincerely doing their jobs.

“That’s a relief,” Kiyotaka said. “I actually thought it would’ve been a good seminar, if only it weren’t backed by such a suspicious organization. It provides emotional care and teaches you how to reexamine yourself. Don’t worry, they’ll still be able to do it even if they aren’t employed by you.”

“I’m surprised you’re still smiling in this situation.”

“Those are my words.” The moment Kiyotaka finished saying that, he ran forward, put his hands on the floor, and aimed a roundhouse kick at Yamashita’s jaw, sending the man flying. While everyone was gaping, Kiyotaka regained his footing and elbowed the man with the wooden sword in the face. He then took the sword and hit him in the waist before he could recover. Now there were two men lying on the floor. Komatsu and the remaining two henchmen’s jaws dropped.

“What’re you standing there for?!” Kiyotaka shouted at Komatsu in a Kyoto accent. “Hurry up!” He tossed the wooden sword at him.

“R-Right.” Komatsu frantically picked up the wooden sword and ran towards the exit.

“Don’t let them get away!” Yamashita shouted from the floor, his arm trembling as he propped himself up.

One of the men chased after Komatsu, while the other two immediately turned to Kiyotaka with serious looks on their faces. They weren’t going to let down their guard against him anymore. One of the men attacked Kiyotaka with punches and kicks, while the other one wielded a knife. Even though Kiyotaka could parry the punches and kicks, he had to deal with a knife coming at him from the side at the same time. The surprise attack at the start had gone well, but now that the henchmen were in their combat stances, they were formidable opponents. Kiyotaka clicked his tongue in annoyance as he dodged their attacks.

On Komatsu’s end, the man chasing him had caught up to him immediately.

“You’re looking pretty weak there, old man,” the man taunted.

“I-I’ll have you know that I used to have a black belt in judo and kendo! Graaah!” Komatsu raised the wooden sword, but was kicked in his side.

“That wasn’t even believable enough to be a bluff,” the man sneered, taking the wooden sword as he watched Komatsu crouch in pain.

But it wasn’t a bluff, Komatsu thought, frowning in frustration.

The man grabbed Komatsu by the hair. “Hey, the old man really is a weakling! You’d better listen to what we say, pretty boy, or the old man gets it!”

Kiyotaka furrowed his brow and stopped moving. Komatsu looked at him with apologetic eyes as he winced in pain. Kiyotaka sighed and held up his hands. I have no choice.

◆　◆　◆

After Rikyu jumped over the fence, the manager, Masami, and I set up the camping chairs outside of the security camera’s view and watched the entry gate.

What’s happening in there? I wondered. None of us said anything—everyone was worried for their own reasons. The night wind blew through under the bright moonlight, bringing with it the pleasant scent of fresh green leaves. But the more I tried to endure the anxiety, the colder the wind felt.

Masami shivered, still biting her thumbnail.

“You can go inside the car if you want, Masami,” I said, placing my hand on her back. “The manager and I will keep watch.”

Masami shook her head and said, “Thank you, Aoi, but I’m okay.” She smiled weakly.

Not knowing what to say in response, I vaguely smiled back. Now it was silent again.

“Aoi, you’re going out with Kiyotaka, right?” Masami asked, perhaps wanting a distraction.

“Oh...yes.” I blushed, embarrassed.

“Are you having fun?”

I silently nodded.

The woman smiled fondly. “That’s so nice, having a great relationship. I was dumped.” Her smile changed to one of self-derision.

“Huh...?”

“The man I was seeing lost his mind. He probably thought his own family was going to fall apart since my daughter saw us. Even though he said all those nice things, when it came down to it, he valued his family the most. The moment he thought my existence was going to threaten that, he cut me out of his life without hesitation... It’s only natural, since it was just a fling, right? And I was supposed to value my family the most too...as in Yuko.” Masami looked up at the sky, trying not to cry.

I sat there in silence and heard an owl hooting in the distance. The manager said nothing and looked at the trees. I absentmindedly followed his gaze to where the sound had come from. I didn’t know there were owls in Kyoto. In any other situation, I might’ve been excited about it.

Suddenly, we heard a ringing sound coming from the other side of the fence. It sounded like an alarm. We all stood up at once.

“What happened?” the manager asked. I frantically looked around.

Masami, unable to take it any longer, ran to the gate and shouted, “Open up! Open this right this instant!” She pounded on the gate with all her might, even though it hadn’t budged when we saw Haraguchi hit it earlier. But this time, it opened startlingly easily with a creak. I blinked in surprise. (We later found out it was because Komatsu disabled the security.)

“Yuko!” Masami blindly ran inside.

“W-Wait, Masami!” Shocked, the manager and I ran after her to stop her.

◆　◆　◆

The men suddenly grinned and burst out laughing, knowing that capturing Komatsu had put them at an advantage at once. One of them grabbed Kiyotaka by his long front bangs and said, “I’ve always wanted to beat the shit out of a pretty boy.”

“Go ahead,” Yamashita said, laughing.

“Wait, but it’ll be easier to sell him to a pervert if we keep his face intact,” said another man with a serious face. “Only hit him below the neck.”

“If you’re going to sell me to a pervert, please make it a woman.” Kiyotaka smiled.

Yamashita immediately punched him in the gut. “You really never shut up!” He gave Kiyotaka, who was coughing and clutching his stomach, a hard—and painful-sounding—slap to the face. Kiyotaka’s cheek swelled and turned red. “Face injuries will heal soon enough,” said Yamashita. “I’m gonna break all your teeth and replace them with dentures.” He raised his fist again, when suddenly, the door swung open—

“Kiyo!” shouted Rikyu.

Komatsu looked towards the source of the voice with his eyes, unable to turn his head because his hair was still in the man’s grasp. He saw a boy—who could easily be mistaken for a tomboyish girl—brandishing his fists. That’s Rikyu, who the kid said was like a younger brother to him. Now he’s gonna get captured too. Komatsu looked down in despair.

The men gaped at Rikyu.

“Is that one of the students?”

“No, there wasn’t anyone who looked like that.”

“How’d she get in, then? She said, ‘Kiyo’—is she your sister?”

“No man, that’s a dude.”

The men chuckled as they spoke.

Rikyu looked at Kiyotaka’s reddened cheek and his eyes widened. “These lowlifes hit Kiyo?” he muttered, his fists trembling. “Graaah!” he shouted, swinging his elbow into the solar plexus of the man grabbing Komatsu’s hair.

“Guh!” the man groaned, buckling over.

Rikyu immediately grabbed his arm and threw him over his shoulder. The man hit the ground quite a distance away with a painful slam. Rikyu quickly placed his foot on the man’s back. “Okay, Kiyo. There’s nothing holding you back now. To be honest, I want to beat the crap out of whoever hit you, but I’ll let you do the honors.”

“Thank you, Rikyu.” Kiyotaka smiled for an instant before swinging his foot at Yamashita. From that point on, it was an all-out fight. Kiyotaka and Rikyu moved unbelievably fast, dodging the men’s attacks and throwing them with force. The tougher ones got back up, so they aimed for their dominant arms and legs to kill their fighting spirit. It only took a short amount of time for the four men to give up and grovel on the floor.

Kiyotaka crouched down in front of Yamashita, grabbed his head, and peered at his face. “Where is Yuko Hasegawa?”

Yamashita smiled bitterly, finally realizing what Kiyotaka and Komatsu were after.

One of the other men shakily lifted his head and said, “She...should be on the other side of the door. She came with us when the alarm rang, and we had her wait there.”

Suddenly they heard the sound of running footsteps. The two female staff members came rushing into the main temple.

“W-We have a problem!” one of them shouted. “A woman came in and said her daughter was being locked up here!”

“And for some reason, the front gate was unlocked!” shouted the other.

Masami came inside next.

Kiyotaka stood up. “It looks like everyone’s here now.”