site 59: Aria Kurenaino

I clutched my familiar “Peter”—the one that had patchwork-colored teeth and looked like a mouse—and sank into the sofa in my living room. I was so tired. The last few days had been mentally exhausting. When I got up in the morning, I was so exhausted I couldn’t stand up. Even running a comb through my hair felt like it required too much effort.

I stretched out an unsteady hand for the remote and turned on the TV. It was a big TV appropriate for the luxurious living room, but compared to the latest high-definition models, it was bulky and ugly. The family had been using it for twenty years. We’d had to hook an HD tuner to it to keep it alive at all. It was like a zombie.

It had originally been brought from somewhere by my brother. Since we hadn’t had a TV until he’d brought it, I’d spent my younger years without one. I remembered being so excited when he set it up.

I loved everything that my brother did. To me, he was like a god. Or maybe even more than that.

He was my world. But...

“That detective...” I saw his face in my mind and found myself whispering hatefully.

He had come to my shop several days ago. He was a very rude man. Yes, it was thanks to him that I’d been so tired these past few days. When I thought back to how disgusting I’d looked and how much I’d embarrassed myself just because he’d brought up my brother, it made me feel terribly depressed.

The world displayed on the TV was so colorful and alive compared to the faded gloom of the house. I stared at it and thought back to when he’d visited several days ago.

“My name is Moritsuka, and I’m with the Musashino police. That’s Moritsuka, okay? Not ‘zu.’ Nice to meet you.” The tiny man in the trench coat had come into my shop right after I’d opened. “I knew your brother back when he was alive...”

I was so shocked when I heard him say those words that I’d told him all about my memories of my brother.

Of course... not all of them.

“I see. So your brother’s room is the same as it was.”

“Yes,” I replied hesitantly.

As I was talking to him, I realized that there was no way my brother would ever spend time with a shallow, callous man like this. This Moritsuka guy was lying. His goal must have been to bring up my brother and cause me distress.

“Hmm, but doesn’t it get all dusty? Do you clean it? Knowing you, I suppose you would. This shop is very clean, after all. Man, I love the atmosphere in here!” He grinned and looked around as if he wanted me to watch him do it.

The House of Crimson had no open windows. The only light source was a single exposed bulb. There was no way to tell in the gloom whether the place was properly being cleaned or not.

I stared at Moritsuka’s face. He looked a lot younger than I usually envisioned a detective. If you told me he was younger than I was, I’d probably believe you.

〈He doesn’t look like a customer. A short man in a beige trench coat. He looks like a kid, but he sure doesn’t move like one.〉

That’s how the devil had once described the person who was sneaking around my store. The description matched. It was the same person... probably.

“So what do you want?”

Moritsuka’s attitude was upsetting me. He seemed to be doing it deliberately. I was angry at him for bringing up my brother, too. I wanted him to tell me what he was here for and then leave.

“Oh, how rude of me. Actually, I have a question for you.”

“If it’s about my brother, I’ve already—”

“The Kotoribako. You know what that is, right?” Moritsuka interrupted me. He ignored my obvious surprise and continued. “It was found on the grounds of Enmeiji yesterday. An obviously handmade—and very poorly so—wooden box. You can imagine what I’m talking about, right?”

“...No,” I lied. Due to the nature of my job, I knew a lot about old “rituals” like that. I’d once researched the legend of the Kotoribako.

“Oh, really? The investigators say that it was a wooden box, just big enough for one person to hold.”

I didn’t respond.

“The box itself was poorly made, but when I looked at it carefully, I saw that it was like some kind of puzzle. So I googled it. And then I found out that it looked just like a box called a ‘Kotoribako.’”

That I knew well. The devil had told me about a white boy at Enmeiji, holding the Kotoribako—or more precisely, something that looked like the Kotoribako. That was what Moritsuka was trying to get me to talk about. But how did he know I was involved, in a small way, with the Enmeiji incident?

“Then you have no idea? Where would someone even make such a thing?”

“I couldn’t say. I have no idea.”

“I’m sure.” Moritsuka gave up easily. It was as if he wanted to say that he knew that’s how I would answer. “They’re supposedly made in Hakone, as a kind of local arts-and-crafts thing. But the ones they make there are a different size, and a different, well... everything.”

The Kotoribako.

This detective knew exactly what it was, and he was asking me about it anyway. Everything he did seemed to be designed to test me. As the subject of his “tests,” I was starting to get angry. Moritsuka knew I was getting mad too, and he was counting on it. I felt a slight urge to vomit.

“By the way, did you make all those dolls there yourself? They’re very well made.” Moritsuka pointed at my familiars, which were lined up on the shelf behind me.

“Thank you.”

“I’m a bit embarrassed to say it, but I’m not good with my hands. I’ve always wanted to make a figure based on a Vanguard card, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to do it. Oh, but it’s always important to try, isn’t it? Where do you buy the materials for those things? Yuzawaya?”

The detective walked around the table and went to touch one of them.

“Would you please not touch them? Those are my familiars. I use them in my black magic rituals.”

“Oh, how rude of me. I’m sorry, I’m just the kind of guy who needs to pick something up and feel it in his hands.” The detective bowed and walked back. “It’s the same with clothes and shoes, you know? Lately, there are more places to buy them online, and a lot of people just buy based off pictures, but I can’t believe that anybody would do that. If you don’t try it on yourself, you don’t know if it’s really for you.”

He kept talking and talking. I took a brief glance around the shop, half-ignoring him.

I couldn’t hear the devil’s voice. I couldn’t sense him, either. Was he here, but simply silently observing me? Or had he not come at all today?

“Detective, if there’s nothing else I can do for you, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Oh, wait, wait,” the detective said. “Um, well... Inside that box they found at Enmeiji was a corpse that was all smashed up like mincemeat.” Evidently, he had no intention of sugarcoating his words.

I may have been running a black magic agency, but I was still a teenage girl. Then again, refusing to show the slightest degree of consideration was probably part of his plan as well.

“We were able to ID the body based on her possessions. It was Chizu Kawabata, a local high school girl. We’re waiting for forensics to come back with more details. Does anything strike you as curious about this?”

“Yes. I’m curious why you’re asking me.”

There was no reason for this detective to be watching me. Of course, I knew about what had happened at Enmeiji, but I hadn’t learned about it in real time. And I definitely hadn’t gone to Enmeiji myself.

Was it really proper to say that I was involved? Or was this Moritsuka uninterested in the Enmeiji murder and simply planning to arrest me for the crime of using a devil to curse people?

“I’d hoped that since you know a lot about black magic and curses, you might have noticed something that we missed.”

“Black magic is my specialty, yes, but why me? There are many people who are more famous, aren’t there?”

“Yes, but actually, when I looked at the phone book in the station, your shop’s name was at the top of the list.”

“My shop isn’t listed in the phone book.”

“Oh, it’s not?”

Moritsuka had told an obvious lie and didn’t seem in the least perturbed to be called out on it. His attitude was bad enough, but more than anything, his smile was upsetting me. He covered all his emotions with that smile and forced his enemy to let their guard down. It was like a light in the darkness luring moths to their death.

What a terrible heart this man had. It was the exact opposite of my brother’s gentle, encompassing smile.

“By the way, how have things been lately?”

“Things?” I asked.

“Cursed anyone?”

“That’s my job.”

“Have any of your clients recently been especially vengeful? Any politicians plunking down huge sums of cash? Or perhaps...”

And then he stopped himself and looked at me. The smile was still on his lips.

“Or perhaps someone came to you with a giant pile of hair and asked you to kill its owner?”

The sharp light in his eyes broke through my expressionless shell, and I grimaced. He knew about that job. He must’ve spent a lot of time hanging around here.

“I’m afraid that I can’t share any information about my clients.”

“Aww, come on. Tell me. I’ll keep it off the record.”

“I refuse. Is that all?”

“Hmm... I suppose there’s one more thing, while I’m here. Ria Minase.”

“Yes.”

He caught me off guard. He’d used my real name, and I’d answered.

I groaned to myself. He’d used my real name deliberately. But why? Did he just want me to know that he’d done his research on me? But if so, what was the point of telling me that?

“Have you ever heard of ‘Kodoku’?”

“No.”

“Put simply, it’s a type of spell where you seal a pot filled with all kinds of insects and make them kill each other until only the strongest remains,” he explained.

“I’ve never heard of it. My agency only deals in Western magics.”

“So you know that the Kodoku is Eastern magic. Aww, and you just told me you didn’t know, too.”

He’d caught me off guard again.

An emotional girl was a poor match for my logical and gentle older brother. I resolved to do better as I lowered my eyes.

“I pride myself on being well-informed on Western magic, so I assumed that if I didn’t know it, it must be something else.”

“I see. And so you thought it must be Eastern magic.”

“No. I thought it might be from the mainland as well.”

“Ahh, yeah. That’s possible too, isn’t it? You’ve sure got me there.” He was clearly doing this on purpose.

“You certainly know a lot about magic.”

“Nah, in the world of 2D culture, it’s well-known.”

I still had no idea what he was actually here for.

It felt I was being slowly strangled by an invisible thread. There was no need for me to feel pain. There was no reason for me to feel guilty. So why...

Why did it feel like I was being slowly pushed into a corner?

It was like a “curse.”

Stay calm. Stay calm. If I let him scare me, I was just doing what he wanted. I needed to deal with this properly, like a black magic agent.

“So what does this Kodoku have to do with the box that was found at the temple? Don’t tell me that the person who was found dead inside was a victim of it.”

“No, it doesn’t feel like they killed people to try to make a Kodoku. The body showed no signs of life. It seemed to have been torn apart after death. But there’s one thing I’m curious about. Supposedly, if you use the last surviving insect of a Kodoku as the vessel for your spell, it vastly enhances the spell’s power. By sacrificing the disgusting creature that fought all the other insects in the pot, ate their corpses, and slurped up their urine and feces, you can make your magic more than twice as strong.”

“That’s very interesting,” I said, not interested at all.

“Whoa. You don’t sound interested at all.” Moritsuka shrugged. Did he look surprised because he expected me to act more interested? What a ridiculous joke.

“My black magic does not use corpses.”

“That’s right. You use hair, don’t you? It didn’t say that on your web page, though.”

“If you ever make an official request for a job, I’ll tell you then.”

“Hmm... Unfortunately, there’s no one I want to kill right now.”

“Then please leave.” I was finally able to say it.

Any more would simply be a waste of time and a source of stress. No matter what he said now, I wanted him to know that I had no intention of listening.

“Oh... Can I ask one last question, then?”

“No. Please leave.”

Moritsuka ignored me. Beneath the light of the exposed bulb, the young detective’s cap cast a shadow on his face, making his expression hard to read.

“Do you think it’s a crime to kill someone with black magic?”

Who was he talking about? Did he think I’d been responsible for the Enmeiji murder?

He was so wrong that I almost laughed. “All I do is pray. I don’t do the deed myself. The deed is done by the hand of the devil, who is the lord of evil.”

“Hmm, so I could probably string you and this imaginary devil up as co-conspirators.”

Imaginary... devil?

“If you’d like to try, go ahead.”

It would only end with him being laughed at.

“By the way,” he said. I realized that the deliberately cheerful tone was gone from Moritsuka’s voice. “How did you know Chizu Kawamoto was at Enmeiji?”

“The devil told me. He said there was strong karma gathered there.”

“Where did you meet this imaginary devil? Is he someone you can trust?”

“I believe I asked you to leave.”

“Now, now... This is really my last question,” he said. He pushed up the brim of his cap and leaned forward, close enough that I could feel his breath.

And then...

...he whispered in my ear.

“You don’t really believe in devils, do you?”

I was struck dumb.

In the tiny, gloomy room, with no light at all from the outside, Moritsuka laughed as if he could read my mind. But the eyes that were staring at me weren’t smiling at all.

“Ria Minase. You loved your brother, didn’t you? It’s nice to have a sibling. I always wanted a cute little sister who would look up to me.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Slowly, a cold sensation began to creep upwards from my toes. I shivered and looked away from him.

Don’t touch me! I wanted to scream.

In fact, his hands were still in his coat pockets, and there was no way he could touch me.

I was trapped in the spider web of his words, and suddenly I found myself unable to move a muscle. That’s how it felt.

“Your relationship, Minase, with this imaginary devil, seems like the exact opposite of the ones I’m familiar with from black magic. Like you’re the servant, and the devil is the master?”

I simply stared at him.

“So here’s what I’m trying to say: Isn’t this what you were always looking for? A master who could take the place of your brother? And that’s how you’re keeping yourself stable... or rather, content.”

Like a snake, the coldness that had been rising up from my toes coiled itself around my neck. I almost screamed.

“What you wanted wasn’t knowledge of black magic, or loyal familiars who would carry out your will. It was someone who would make you certain that you were really there, that you existed, when sometimes it didn’t feel like you did. Am I wrong?”

I found myself unable to react.

“You wanted something like your brother, someone who would accept you unconditionally when you were depressed. Wouldn’t you have been happy with anything that fit those conditions? A man, or even a devil—”

“LEAVE!” I pushed Moritsuka as hard as I could.

“Whoa! You scared me!” Moritsuka fell backwards and landed on the ground.

I started throwing things, antique candlestick holders and pen stands, at him. But they didn’t hit him. Instead, they crashed against the walls and floor with a crash.

“What are you doing?! You’re interfering with the duties of a public servant!”

“Leave! Leave!” I was so angry I was panting. How long had it been since I’d raised my voice like this? The only thing I wanted to do was curse the detective in front of me until he was dead. “Get out of here! Now!”

Moritsuka shrugged a little and stood up. He brushed the dust off his coat.

“I’m sorry. Looks like I pushed a little too hard. I won’t prosecute you for attacking me, so please forgive me for being rude. Goodbye,” he said, and then he waved as he left the shop. As I listened to the sound of his shoes going down the stairs, I grabbed Peter, the familiar nearest to me.

The devil didn’t appear in my shop that day. Neither did a single customer. So I didn’t know how long I spent there, shivering.

It wasn’t something I wanted to remember. I bit my lip and shook the memories from my mind.

At some point, a huge list of names had begun to appear on the screen. It was a list of the 256 victims of the Inokashira incident.

How much meaning was there in each of those names? What difference was there between these names and the ones written by my clients?

As I thought about it...

Suddenly, amidst the list of names...

I saw it.

“Ria Minase.”

“Oh...” Even though I called myself Aria Kurenaino now, my real name wasn’t something I could easily forget, and I recognized it instantly on the screen.

It was the name I’d thrown away. The name of my brother’s little sister. It was a name that I wasn’t worthy of, now that I’d made a pact with a devil.

I chuckled a little and looked up at the ceiling of my living room, where a useless, elaborate chandelier hung.

“I’d thought maybe that was the case.”

I didn’t feel like trying to convince myself that it wasn’t true. Really, it felt like it made sense. The despair was actually kind of refreshing.

“I can’t believe my wish came true like this...”

I’d wanted to die. If I died, I thought I could see my brother again. I’d waited so long for the day to come.

But now that I was actually dead, I still hadn’t seen my brother. The person I’d most wanted to see in the afterlife was nowhere to be found.

“Oh... How maddeningly enticing, and how maddeningly cruel...” I covered my face with both hands. This must be hell, not heaven. It was the perfect place for a girl who’d clung to a devil for help.

What was my brother thinking when he looked down on me from heaven? It felt like I was even farther from my brother than when I’d been clinging to life.

〈You have no right to that yet.〉

I remembered what the devil had told me about dying when we’d first met.