site 13: Aria Kurenaino

Wednesday, February 17th

I suddenly felt a presence and froze, my hand above the tablet. I’d been looking into aromatic oils with a mild hypnotic effect.

I took a glance around the shop. After the sun set, the shop was filled with more darkness than the single tiny light could illuminate. It was a small shop, but it was crammed with items I used in my black magic, so there were many parts of it I couldn’t see from where I was sitting.

I felt a presence. A presence that projected a deep sensation of evil. But despite the presence’s intensity, I couldn’t tell if it was behind me, or perhaps in a corner of the shop. It felt strangely uncomfortable.

“Are you there?” I spoke to no one in particular, and the bulb hanging from the ceiling shook a little. It was a freezing-cold night already, but it felt like my body temperature had dropped even lower.

I ignored the cold and continued. “You haven’t been around much, so I had thought that perhaps you might be busy.”

The first response was...

〈Heheh...〉

It was an awful breath, like a snort. I could feel it on the back of my neck, and I shivered.

But there was no one behind me. There wasn’t room for anyone to stand. All that was behind me was a shelf, and my dolls.

〈I’ve had many new customers lately.〉 The next thing I heard was a man’s low voice, like a whisper.

No, it only felt to me like a man’s voice. Perhaps it wasn’t.

“It’s good to have a lot of customers.”

〈It’s a lousy economy. When you’re poor, you don’t have any free time, you know?〉 He was joking, but it was all I could do to hide my nervousness. I could feel sweat building up under my armpits.

That “voice” was not at all easy to hear.

It was muffled, somehow.

But it felt like it went right through your ears and directly into your brain.

There was no way to tell where it was coming from.

And it made you feel very uneasy.

I never could get used to it.

When you listened to the voice, you gradually started to lose your senses of direction and distance.

I yanked a doll off the shelf behind me to try and hide my nervousness. I ended up grabbing Coven. Its goofy-looking, five-eyed face was staring up at me. I held it gently against my stomach.

The thing I was speaking to didn’t show itself. But I knew what it was. It was a creature of darkness, feared by man since ancient times, and sometimes worshiped by those who would rebel against God.

It was a devil.

“Why does a devil need money?” This devil had said that it was poor. In that case, it was quite a worldly devil. Of course, that was appropriate enough for a devil.

〈Hmph. Why ask that now? Did you forget about our contract?〉

Of course, I hadn’t forgotten. Two years ago, the person I loved had died. I’d been left all alone. Just as I’d given in to despair, and was about to step in front of a train, I’d heard this voice in my head.

—Death is given to those chosen for it. You have no right to that yet.

And so I decided not to die.

Ever since then, this devil had been my partner. I didn’t do my work as a black magic agent alone. I heard the clients’ stories and researched the information, and then this devil carried out their requests.

I gave the devil half the money I earned. That was the contract.

〈In this place, even mercy can only be earned with money. You know that well, don’t you?〉

“So you have the concept of a bad economy too, then? But then why is it always the living who suffer?”

〈Hey, things aren’t exactly a picnic down here, you know? Like that last client... Um, what was it? The screaming package?〉

Dying Screams. The 42,420 yen package.

〈Bringing somebody absolute despair ain’t exactly easy, you know. When the client’s got a strong heart, you should pay me double, honestly.〉

“And when they’re weak, and the job is simple, may I pay you half?”

〈Heheh...〉 The devil snorted and fell silent, as if it was unsatisfied.

I’d tried to record this voice once. There was a small trace of this unnerving voice on the recording. It sounded mostly like white noise, but I was able to hear it.

In other words, this devil’s voice was neither some form of spiritual telepathy, nor evidence of my own delusion. It was a sound, made by vibrating the air. Even if I couldn’t pinpoint the source of the voice, it existed in this space as a vibration of the air.

“When humans are born, they realize their misery and cry. And from then on, their hearts keep getting weaker and weaker. You just give their weak heart a little push. For you, that’s an easy job, right?” Of course, I was suspicious as to whether or not this devil was actually doing his job.

I’d never gone and checked. And no one had ever come back to complain, or thank me. Whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing, it felt like if I dug any deeper, my relationship with this devil would come to an end.

〈Tell me about the new jobs.〉

Either way, I was a woman who’d sold her soul to a devil. Maybe the real reason I deposited the money in the account the devil gave me was just to make myself feel better. It was my way of making the devil shoulder half the guilt I felt for earning money off of other people’s misery. So from my perspective, it didn’t matter whether he did the jobs or not.

“Isayuki Hashigami.”

〈Heheh... Well, how about that?〉

In addition to the bloody mass of hair I’d found in my mailbox yesterday, there was also an envelope containing 66,600 yen. The payment had been made. I didn’t know who the client was, but I no longer had any reason to refuse.

“Please perform the Devil’s Ritual.” Since ancient times, it has always been those who turn their backs on God that choose who will be sacrificed to the Devil.

〈Put it in my usual account.〉

That’s when my conversation with the devil usually ended. The presence would disappear, and the air in the shop would return to normal. That’s what had always happened so far. I had no particular interest in making small talk with my devil.

But this time, for some reason, I asked him a question. “May I ask you something?”

〈Huh? Depends on what you ask. This is a business, you know. There’s some things I can’t tell you, some things I don’t want to tell you, and some things you don’t want to know. Right?〉 The devil spoke back to me. He always did like to talk. One word for him might be “frivolous.”

“If the target of a curse is already dead, is it possible for someone to get their money back?”

〈Heheh...〉 The devil didn’t answer.

I became even more anxious and kept talking. “All the black magic requires is a few strands of hair. But this client was different. They brought me a whole lump of his hair. It felt like they were obsessed.”

The hair was so creepy that I wanted to throw it away, but I couldn’t. So I’d put it in a trash bag and thrown it onto the back of the shelf.

“If they took that much of the target’s hair, isn’t it possible that they died before you can carry out the curse?”

〈So that’s why you asked about getting their money back? That’s funny.〉 Once again the devil didn’t answer. Instead the light bulb flashed again.

The awful presence seemed to subside, somewhat. Maybe.

〈Hold on a second. Someone’s outside.〉

Outside? Did he mean down the stairs?

〈It doesn’t look like a customer. It’s a short man in a beige trench coat.〉

I had no idea who it could be, so I wasn’t sure what to say.

〈He looks like a kid, but the way he moves makes me suspicious. Tch. He got away. Anyway, time for me to go, too. See you around.〉 This time, the evil presence disappeared. I thought I heard the front door shake a little, but it was probably just a draft.

I had not the slightest intention of going down the stairs to look for the man in the coat.

I never checked to see if the devil was doing his job. I never fully believed what he told me. That was how I kept myself sane.

“How ugly this must be...” I palmed Coven’s head as it rested on my lap, and crushed it with my hand. I suddenly realized I was very thirsty.