Chapter One: Imperial Capital Panhandlers? No Thanks.

 

 

 

Chapter One: Imperial Capital Panhandlers? No Thanks.

 

THE Imperial Capital was alive with stories again that day.

“Come one, come all! Come see, come hear! The spectacle, the sensation! The story of the incredible Narrators and the Kotogami word spirits, of magnificent and miraculous yokai of all varieties!”

Stories? I’d rather not.

So Akari Mitsukuri thought, heading home after a tiring day of work.

In the empty lot Akari had quickly averted her eyes from, a gaggle of children gazed starry-eyed at a puppeteer who had set up his traveling puppet theater on the back of his bicycle. It appeared his main trade was selling candy, but the children seemed more interested in the colorful cardboard backdrops and the story he was telling.

Now Akari couldn’t help but notice that there was evidence of stories everywhere she looked on the street.

On a wooden telephone pole, a foreign movie poster depicting a heroine gazing raptly at a silver screen heartthrob. On the door of a nearby bookstore, a flyer announcing: “Literary Compilations Now Available for Order!” Happy-looking customers were emerging from the shop, books clutched in their arms.

Everywhere you looked. Stories and books.

It was a tough world to live in for Akari, who hated storytelling of all kinds.

Of course, she could appreciate that many people seemed to get great enjoyment from these diversions. And she didn’t really have a problem with it, if that was how they chose to spend their time. But in Akari’s mind, a story was something akin to a lie, and that was something she couldn’t abide.

In this age of fanciful stories, Akari was a practical working woman employed at a trading company in the Imperial Capital.

These days, the general consensus remained that women belonged at home. So for a woman to go to work and earn her own money, well, that was something out of the norm. At the same time, however, such women drew admiring glances for the gorgeous modern fashions they could afford and the independence they represented.

But Akari wore a drab meisen silk kimono, and she only worked to survive. She had no other choice, having not a single relative. There was no glamor in her situation.

Hair tied back in a modern Anglish-style braided bun, Akari wore a simple, long kimono in a golden-yellow hue. Her kimono belt was pulled tight as she meandered along in sturdy boots. The kimono had a simple striped pattern characteristic of the type, but Akari liked the little flower petals in deep red and salmon pink that also adorned the material.

Beneath her feet, the ground was packed earth, but the city was rigged for electricity with lines crisscrossing the street. Most private houses even had electricity now.

The streets got muddy in the rain, though, and Akari had to be extremely careful about the long hem of her kimono.

“I fancy some grilled chicken skewers for dinner. I think I’ll pick some up on my way home.”

Akari’s thin, pinched face was lit with a smile. Payday tended to have that effect on her.

After obtaining a couple of grilled chicken skewers for her dinner, Akari reached her lodgings with a spring in her step. Only then did she realize the place was on fire.

She stood frozen as the building’s panicking inhabitants dashed past her, fleeing the flames.

The building was a blazing inferno. Everything she owned in this world was inside.

“It’s a Raiju!”

One of the rubberneckers yelled out, and Akari lifted her head. That was when she saw the huge beast perched on the roof of a nearby building, encircled by a haze of purple lightning.

The creature was huge and hulking, easily able to step over a single-story house in one bound. It was hard to make out the beast’s features, as purple lightning was streaking across its entire body, but its sides billowed in and out as it breathed like a living thing.

It had to be one of those beastly yokai the whole city had been talking about lately, Akari thought.

The Western disciplines of science—physics, biology, and so on—could never explain these creatures. Implausible though they might be, their existence was all too real. Yes…beasts, monsters, and demons were a part of the fabric of modern life.

The military was overwhelmed when it came to quelling the beasts, and the citizens could do little else but cower in fear of the attacks until they passed. There was certainly nothing Akari could do about this.

The police came running up then, firing at the beast’s thick hide with their pistols. But the creature barely twitched.

One of the police was yelling at the onlookers.

“Get a Narrator! Our guns are no good here. We need the power of the Kotogami!”

Narrator. Kotogami.

Even in the midst of the emergency, Akari’s face stiffened. That was when she realized she should probably flee, and her hand tightened reflexively around the oil-paper package she was holding.

The policeman was right—when it came to these beasts, only the Narrators and the Kotogami would be of any help.

Akari finally turned, meaning to escape from the situation, but her path was blocked by the crowd of onlookers. Their faces were a mix of fear, fascination, and burning curiosity.

And all the while, the Raiju’s crackling lightning streaks were indiscriminately striking all around.

With a crack like a gunshot, a nearby wooden electricity pole toppled to the ground, on fire.

The nearby onlookers all scattered as they fled.

Akari could finally run too. But her pace was so slow.

This wasn’t surprising. Akari had never been athletic, and she’d always gotten the lowest scores for physical education at school.

The Raiju crouched, then leaped down from the roof, sending streaks of lightning crackling from its limbs. Everything Akari had ever learned in science class was now running on a loop in her mind.

If the beast’s lightning was like natural lightning, it would seek the closest target. But lightning could travel faster than any human could run. And lightning could electrocute humans.

And what was more…

“I didn’t even get to eat my grilled chicken skewers…”

A sudden flash of orange light made Akari close her eyes.

Then she went flying.

But she never landed. Instead, she felt arms holding her, one around her shoulder and the other tucked under her legs. Akari opened her eyes in surprise and discovered that a strange man was cradling her in his arms.

Immediately, she blushed. Akari may have been a modern working woman, but she’d never felt the touch of a man and had certainly never been held in one’s arms before.

To further complicate matters, he had a gorgeous face. Akari could see it in profile, clearly lit by the glow of the fire and crackling lightning.

He was young. Late twenties, maybe. Still, plenty young enough.

His long black hair reached to his collar, giving him the rakish look of a philanderer. But his features were somehow refined.

His porcelain skin was flawless and his nose was perfectly shaped, straight as a knife. His smooth features gave him the appearance of a traditional Kyoto doll and signified good breeding. His eyes had a shrewdness to them, and they sparkled in the light of the inferno like glittering night stars.

The man seemed not entirely human to Akari, but then she noticed his expression as he was looking down at her. It was the relieved look of someone who had just saved the life of someone important to them—a very human emotion.

“Are you all right?!”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

Before Akari could ask him if he was all right, the young man put her down. Then he thrust something into her hands.

Akari took hold of the object—a Western-style book with a hard cover.

The book had a gorgeous amber-colored binding and was about as thick as one of Akari’s fingers. It was well made and looked to be of very high quality.

But before Akari even had time to read the title, the young man addressed her in tones of urgency.

“Please! Would you open the book? Just to the first page!”

“Er, the first page?”

As Akari looked up in confusion, she could see the Raiju over the young man’s shoulder, rampaging this way. Akari blanched. She had to get away from there.

But then the young man turned and started hurrying toward the Raiju, without any hesitation.

Wondering what in the blue blazes the young man was doing, Akari nonetheless opened the book in her hands.

Golden light immediately began to emanate from the pages, glowing as bright as the nearby inferno. Threads of this golden light, which Akari suddenly realized were in the shape of letters, rose off the page and streaked over to make contact with the young man, causing his hair to change color.

The next moment, the Raiju disappeared from sight. Then there was another loud crack like a gunshot.

As Akari stood dumbfounded, the book laying open in her hands, the golden-haired young man lowered his foot back to the ground.

The Raiju had been forcefully slammed right into one of the nearby buildings that hadn’t yet caught on fire.

Raiju were known for moving so fast the human eye could barely register it, but the young man had managed to kick the beast straight in the midsection. Akari only knew of one type of being capable of doing something like that.

The Raiju picked itself up and was about to continue its attack, when it paused. Something like fear passed across its hideous features, and it cowered. Then it turned and lumbered away.

The young man came to rejoin Akari, who simply watched the beast as it grew smaller the farther away it went.

While the young man had faced off against the creature, his face had been fierce, but now he looked at Akari with a kindly smile.

“You can close the book now. Thank you for the assistance.”

“Oh, right.”

Akari closed the book with a clap, and the young man’s golden hair turned black once more. He held his hand out for the book, and as Akari passed it to him, she took note of the title, which read, Kotogami: Tomohito Yagyou.

A Kotogami: a word spirit, a divine soul enshrined within the pages of a sacred book.

“You’re a Kotogami?”

Akari looked up at his beautiful face, and the young man smiled, narrowing his eyes gently and nodding.

“I am. My name is Tomohito Yagyou.”

The young man introduced himself, pronouncing each word slowly as if relishing the opportunity. His figure was backlit by the brightness of the nearby flames. It was like he’d stepped right out of one of those stories Akari despised.

In this country, the Yamato Empire, yokai coexisted with humans.

Since time immemorial, the yokai had been here, in every town and village, every river and tree. Some fell in love with humans. Some sought to destroy them. To tame the unruly yokai spirits and quell their pandemonium, humans created Kotogatari, spirit tomes, in which a spirit’s soul could be captured and enshrined.

To define these book-enshrined spirits with a name, humans referred to them as Kotogami, word spirits, and treated them with reverence and curiosity.

At least, the ones who liked stories did. Akari was not among their number.

Luckily, the flames were extinguished before they could spread to the surrounding area. But Akari’s lodgings were burned to cinders. So perhaps it wasn’t so lucky for her.

Akari went over to a nearby public telephone and dialed the office of her company, which owned the lodging house.

“Yes, it’s a shame about the lodging house. But there isn’t anything we can do about it at this moment. We’ll have to consult with the people in charge of these things.”

“Yes, but…”

“Yes, yes, I know. The lodging house was very convenient. But you’re of marriageable age. Maybe this is a good time to think about finding a husband. We’ll arrange some compensatory funds next week. Until then, you’re on your own. Good day to you.”

“Thank you for placing a call today.”

As the other party hung up and the operator’s smooth voice came down the line, Akari heaved a sigh and replaced the telephone receiver.

As a working woman, Akari was confronted with the marriage suggestion on a daily basis. There was no point arguing back. And she knew her boss had only brought it up now because he genuinely believed it would be the easiest way to deal with her predicament.

“I always knew my company was stingy.”

Akari stepped away from the public telephone and returned to the site of the fire. She was hungry and didn’t know what else to do, so she sat down on a piece of rubble and bit into a grilled chicken skewer. Miraculously, her dinner had made it through the incident unscathed.

The chicken was completely cold now, but the meat was juicy, and the sauce was sweet and tangy. Akari was starting to feel a lot better, despite her shock.

“So I have to fend for myself while they sort out all the red tape, do I? And here I am, alone in the capital without a single relative. Find myself a husband. Are they insane? That’s their suggestion? In today’s day and age, financial security is a far better option than marriage.”

Despite the Imperial Capital being awash with Westernization and modernization, people still thought a woman belonged in the home. And even working women were expected to quit once they reached marrying age. Female company employees were looked down upon all the time. Forget marriage, Akari wanted to be self-sufficient. And she was sick of people’s attitudes. Nobody understood her at all.

“I wonder when they’re going to get around to providing me with alternative living arrangements…”

Maybe never? That terrible possibility suddenly occurred to her.

Her company paid below the average, but Akari had chosen it because they offered free lodgings for employees. Even if she could find a new, reasonably priced accommodation, her current wages would barely cover her expenses.

“And the cheapest places to rent are always the scary places. Oh no, where am I going to sleep tonight? The bank is closed, so I can’t withdraw any money until tomorrow. Am I going to have to sleep under the stars? Oh, but hold on… It’s Sunday tomorrow, so the bank will be closed then too…”

A cold gust of wind buffeted her, causing her to shrink in on herself.

Everything was just awful. Why was this happening to her?

“Excuse me?”

It was getting close to sundown. If she was going to act, she’d need to get a move on.

Akari was gobbling down the last of her grilled chicken, planning to rummage in the wreckage to see if there was anything left of her furniture and other possessions, when…

“Excuse me!”

Akari was sure the voice wasn’t addressing her. But she looked up anyway and saw the Kotogami who’d rescued her earlier, Tomohito Yagyou, standing there.

After he’d saved her from all the ruckus, she’d been so desperate to call her company she’d dashed off without even saying goodbye, let alone a thank-you. By the time her call was done, he was nowhere in sight, so there was nothing she could do about it. Still, she felt guilty for not properly thanking him when she had the chance.

Now that she was able to get a good, calm look at him, she could see he was a fine figure of a young man indeed.

He was tall and well proportioned, and his crisp white shirt and brown tailored three-piece suit hung perfectly on his frame.

She hadn’t noticed it before, but now she spotted a bag slung over his shoulder, just the right size to hold a book.

He could be an actor with those looks, thought Akari distractedly, standing up and bowing her head politely.

“Uh…Mr. Yagyou? Allow me to apologize for not saying thank you for your assistance earlier.”

“Tomohito’s just fine. At any rate, never mind about that! What are you going to do now?”

Feeling her cheeks grow hot under the Kotogami’s—Tomohito’s—concerned gaze, Akari averted her eyes.

He’d come from the pages of a book—a Kotogatari, the representation of everything Akari disliked. And yet he seemed so genuinely concerned for her well-being. She couldn’t dislike him just for being what he was. She wasn’t that immature. After all, she’d been working to support herself for two years now.

She was more concerned about the fact that he’d caught her sitting on the roadside uncouthly scarfing down cold grilled chicken skewers.

Akari quickly hid the empty skewers back in the oiled paper before she answered him.

“Oh, I’ll manage somehow. Things tend to work themselves out, don’t they?”

Akari knew she couldn’t rely on anyone’s help. She always had to put on a strong front to survive, but it was strange how saying it out loud made her feel better. And she had some delicious grilled chicken in her belly now. She was ready to take on the world again. But then her eyes opened wide as she saw what Tomohito was doing.

With a fluid motion, he dropped to one knee in front of her.

For a supposedly divine being, he could show a little more concern for his nice suit.

As Akari stared in shock at his straight-backed kneeling form, his perfect skin blushed a deep red as he spoke.

“Please become my mistress!”

Akari shot him a look of disgust, as if he were a cockroach.

His eyebrows leaped up in surprise as Akari recomposed her features.

Then she turned on her heel and started heading for the rubble.

If you spent enough time in the Imperial Capital, you were bound to run into one of them—the big-city perverts and the panhandlers. But right here, right now? Ugh.

It seemed as if these days, even Kotogami were running honey traps. Or maybe this young man was planning to use his good looks to leech off a rich older woman? Spirit or not, she didn’t have time for this tomfoolery.

“P-Please, hold on just a minute!”

“I don’t even have the funds to support myself, much less a boy toy, so please look elsewhere!”

Tomohito sprang to his feet to stop her. Even though Akari shot him a glare that was several degrees below freezing, he was undeterred.

“Please don’t run away. I really do want to help you.”

“So that ‘be my mistress’ bit, that was just a joke?”

“I was a hundred percent serious!”

“…The finest of days to you, sir.”

Cutting him down with the polite parting words she’d learned at her all-girls school, Akari hurried over to a police officer who was sifting through the burned remains of the building. The police were known for being heavy-handed. If the young spirit kept following her, the officer would surely intervene on her behalf.

Akari had always thought a Narrator was needed to call forth a Kotogami from a Kotogatari book. Maybe this officer would know more about how it all worked.

“Please, just hear me out! I’m only a Kotogami—I assure you I’m not dangerous!”

“Officer! Can I get some help here?”

“Ah, wait! Please wait!”

Akari ignored the tenacious Kotogami and was about to raise her voice even louder, when a man in uniform suddenly appeared in front of her.

“All right, young lady. That’s quite far enough.”

The man was blocking her path. Late thirties, wearing a straight-collared uniform similar to a police officers’ but in a different color. Akari suddenly froze, noticing the collar and wondering if he was military. But his lack of that kind of aura gave her pause.

His hair was cut in an unkempt style, and his face looked sluggish and sleepy. His collar was unfastened, too. He looked nothing like a disciplined member of the military.

But Tomohito suddenly looked relieved as he hailed the man.

“Munakata! You’re finally here!”

“Calm yourself. I’ve been run ragged all day on Raiju hunting duty, and then you call me out here all of a sudden…”

“What seems to be the trouble, you lot?”

As the military (or was he?) man just stood there looking clearly exhausted, the nearby police officers started to gather around them, drawn by the commotion.

As Akari bowed contritely, alarmed by their severe expressions, the police officers ignored her. They were looking at Munakata—more precisely, at his uniform—and the next moment, they were saluting him.

“A Yokai Containment Narrator! We had no idea! Thank you for coming!”

Yokai Containment Narrator? Akari could hardly believe her ears.

Among the Narrators who controlled the Kotogami spirits, the Yokai Containment Narrators were a special division within the military who controlled the dangerous yokai variety. Everyone in the city knew who they were.

Akari ran her eyes over Munakata again. At his waist, he wore a belt that held a military saber and a rather large item pouch. Just large enough to hold several books.

Munakata nodded vaguely, seeming to take the officers’ show of respect toward him as merely a matter of course.

“I’m Munakata, of the Imperial Army’s Yokai Containment Narrator Squad. The Raiju is being tracked by some of our other Narrators. I need you fellows to secure this area. Also, this young woman appears to have been attacked by the Raiju. I’ll be taking her with me for debriefing.”

“Certainly, sir!”

Hold on, why do I have to go anywhere with you? …was what Akari wanted to say, just as the officers—her last hope for salvation—walked off.

The moment Akari began to despair over being abandoned to the slovenly-looking Munakata and annoyingly persistent Kotogami Tomohito, the aforementioned Munakata put his hand on her shoulder.

“All right, then. You’ll be coming with us.”

“Perhaps you could tell me the reason why I have to go with you?”

“You opened this one’s Kotogatari, did you not?”

Munakata stabbed a finger in the direction of Tomohito, who looked jumpy on his feet as he stood waiting.

Okay, I opened it, but so what? …was what Akari wanted to say, but the words died in her throat. Maybe it was the presence of the military that was making her nervous.

And anyway, Akari wasn’t raised to talk back to authority.

It looked like she was going with them, then. But there was something else.

“Hold on. One more question.”

“Another one?”

Munakata made a face as though Akari was being a huge nuisance. But Akari was unperturbed by his sharp look. She met it head-on.

“When we get to where we’re going, will you give me something to eat?”

The grilled chicken skewers hadn’t quite cut it. Filling her belly was all she could think about.

Munakata looked even more annoyed and unimpressed. But Akari kept staring at him until he finally sighed.

“Fine, we’ll order in. Tomohito, would you mind?”

“Not at all! I’m delighted to be of service!”

Tomohito’s face lit up, and he bowed reverently.

Akari cheered internally, but she was getting sick of this Munakata guy already.

They got into a brand-new type of automobile and arrived in Shiyabu. It was the site of an army barracks and training ground, and the night air was still and solemn, heavy with military presence.

Their destination was a sturdy stone building that gave off a stately aura in the dusky darkness.

On the gatepost, Akari could read the words “Association of Yokai Containment Narrators” illuminated by the electric lights. So, this was where they had brought her.

Akari was led into the parlor, where she soon began to devour a bowl of deep-fried pork cutlets over rice.

Having pork right after chicken felt luxurious. These military men were generous after all. But Munakata ate a bowl of grilled beef over rice, and that sort of irritated her.

“You’re really chowing down on that, Miss Mitsukuri.”

Akari lifted her head as Munakata addressed her. She’d introduced herself in the car—the only conversation they’d shared—so he knew her name as well now.

“I was on my way home from work, that’s why. Don’t they say you always get hungry after battle?”

“Ah, were you?”

“Also, being stared at while I eat makes me nervous and eat too fast.”

“…I see.”

Munakata stopped looking quite so shocked over her unladylike gorging and shrugged instead.

Akari cleaned her bowl down to the last grain of rice before she finally stopped eating and looked up at Tomohito, who was standing beside the sofa. As their eyes met, Tomohito blushed a deep pink and blinked rapidly.

He really was incredibly handsome. But recalling his creepy request from earlier, Akari felt zero attraction.

“All right then, Miss Mitsukuri. Now that we’ve both filled our stomachs, let’s get down to business.”

“All right.”

Akari sat up straight, and Munakata pointed at the Kotogami standing beside them. Akari took that to mean Tomohito was the business they were there to discuss.

“As I mentioned, my name’s Munakata. I’m a Yokai Containment Narrator with the Imperial Army. You know what a Narrator does?”

“Yes. They narrate the cinematographs, the moving pictures. They describe the story on the screen and speak for the characters so we can hear.”

“No, that’s not what I— Not that kind of narrator.”

“I was just joking. Everyone knows the Narrators are people who manifest Kotogami by telling stories aloud.”

Munakata’s face twitched. But Akari was just a layperson, and that was her understanding of how the Narrators worked.

Thanks to the Narrators taming the Kotogami, humans no longer had cause to fear them, and they could now peacefully coexist.

At school, Akari had learned about the ancient art of the early Kotogami-taming Narrators, an art that had begun in secret among a few select families. In time, it became more widespread, and now talented Narrators had even been inducted into the present-day military.

“But to be more precise, we need to use special books to seal the demon yokai and the good spirits alike. Take this one, for example—Tomohito Yagyou.”

Taking his cue from Munakata, Tomohito bowed gracefully.

Suddenly, Akari realized the golden letters that sprang from the pages of the book she’d opened had been the letters of his name.

“He’s under my charge, more or less, but tends to get out and go wandering off by himself.”

“Huh…”

But if a spirit could manifest, why would it stay in one place?

Akari muttered politely, not really getting it. Munakata thought for a moment, then pulled a book out of the pouch at his waist.

It was bound in stiff leather. Munakata opened it casually and began reading aloud.

“Begrudged though she may be, in service to thee,

Her loyalty be without reproach.

The dog spirit Kuroe.”

His voice was clear and resonant as he continued speaking languidly. Akari felt goose bumps prickle along her arms.

She was taken aback, maybe even a little impressed, by this surprising new side of him. But her rising sense of dislike for him was stronger.

She rubbed at the goose bumps with irritation. Nope. She really did NOT like this man.

While Akari sat there in discomfort, inky-black letters rose from the pages of the open book and formed the shape of a human—a woman.

Soundlessly, her feet made contact with the ground right beside Munakata. She was in all black, from her kimono to her hair. Only her skin was a corpse-like shade of white. One other thing—she had furry ears, like a dog. Here was another Kotogami.

She ignored both Akari and Tomohito, staring only at Munakata as she emitted an aura of darkness.

“How may I serve you, Master?”

“Take these bowls and give them to whoever’s outside. Tell them to have them returned to the restaurant.”

“Certainly.”

The young woman nodded briskly, picked up Munakata’s and Akari’s bowls, and left through the doors.

Akari watched her leave, the woman’s doglike tail wagging. Then Munakata started talking again.

“You have just observed a Narrator at work. We open the book and read aloud, thus manifesting the Kotogami. This fellow, however…he continually manifests of his own free will.”

“So you don’t have to read aloud for, uh, Mr. Yagyou to appear?”

“I’ve never even read his book, much less out loud.”

Munakata answered her question matter-of-factly. Akari suddenly recalled her meeting with Tomohito.

He’d saved her from the rampaging Raiju, his own book in hand. So if he could manifest himself at will, that meant he wasn’t exactly bound to its pages, didn’t it?

“That sounds like quite the conundrum.”

“I manifest at will!”

Tomohito flexed his bicep, but Akari ignored him.

She was starting to grasp the gravity of the situation. She raised an eyebrow at Munakata, who continued on cue.

“Well, there’s more to it, but it’s a long story. Essentially, though, he’s harmless. Due to that, and also because there doesn’t seem to be a single Narrator around who can actually read his book, he’s slipped through the net.”

“Harmless?”

“Well, he has been so far.”

Long story or not, shouldn’t he just tell her? But despite registering Akari’s concern, Munakata had simply reaffirmed the Kotogami’s harmlessness. Sensing that they were getting nowhere in this discussion of Tomohito’s origins, Akari decided to drop it.

“So what do you mean, no one can read his book? It’s right there—can’t you just open it?”

Akari furrowed her brow in confusion. Munakata held out his hand to Tomohito.

“Tomohito, give me your Kotogatari.”

“Certainly. Here it is.”

Tomohito solemnly withdrew his book from his bag and handed it to Munakata. Just as he’d done with the other one moments before, Munakata went to open it. But even as he tugged on its cover until his knuckles grew pale, it wouldn’t open. It was as if it had been glued shut.

Akari blinked several times. Munakata didn’t seem surprised, however. He handed the book to Akari.

She noticed again how thin it was. Despite the splendid binding, the book itself was only about the same thickness as Akari’s finger. She ran her eyes over the amber-colored cover, the gilt letters that read Kotogami: Tomohito Yagyou…and then she tried to open it.

It opened easily in her hands, exactly as it had earlier outside her burning lodgings. She could see the soft white pages within. This time, though, no golden letters floated out. It just looked like a regular book.

The moment Akari was about to flip through the pages, an elegant but bony hand reached out and stopped her. She looked up to see Tomohito blushing at her.

“D-Don’t look at it so closely…”

He was embarrassed, as if she were snooping at some private, secret part of him. Akari narrowed her eyes, and Munakata cleared his throat with annoyance.

“So, to conclude, this Kotogami has chosen you as his Narrator. I’m handing him over for you to take charge of, and—”

“I decline.”

Akari shook her head firmly, interrupting Munakata midsentence.

She didn’t care if she was being rude or in danger of being carted off to jail for insubordination. She closed the Kotogatari book with a clap and slid it across the table toward the men, her back straight. Munakata and Tomohito looked at her, bemused.

“I abhor stories. Taking charge of a Kotogatari…that means becoming a Narrator, right? I want no part of this.”

Akari had chosen her current company, Sumimata Corporation, mostly because it only dealt in practical things, like clocks.

This was unthinkable, being pressured into involvement with the very embodiment of everything she hated. Stories. Fiction.

Fine, then. Some people needed stories in their lives. Akari only asked that they keep her out of it and wouldn’t try to rope her in or involve her in any way.

Akari rubbed at her still-present goose bumps through her kimono, scowling at both men. Munakata sighed deeply and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“This is so annoying. Tomohito, this concerns you, not me. You convince her. You have permission, so go ahead, got it?”

“Certainly.”

Akari blinked in shock. Seriously? Then Munakata lay down on the sofa and seemed to fall asleep. Seriously?!

Why was he so lazy?! As Akari sat there dumbfounded, the handsome Tomohito eagerly leaned in.

“I, Tomohito, shall take over the job of convincing you now.”

“I refuse to be swayed…”

“First, strictly speaking, there is no need for you to become a Narrator. But if you agree to take me on, Mistress Akari, you’ll be able to live in the special Narrator book repository office branch that I’m in charge of. We call it the Bookhouse.”

Slightly stunned at being directly addressed as “Mistress,” Akari nonetheless felt her stubborn resolve slipping.

A book…house? A real house, for living in?

Seeing Akari waver, Tomohito pressed on excitedly like a salesman closing in on a weakening customer.

“In recent years, yokai have become so numerous as to be almost commonplace, but as a result, the number of Kotogatari have increased too. And there are too many to be properly cataloged. There’s been a shortage of Narrators since way back. So the Narrators’ Association has decided to take on regular people as an experimental measure. We need custodians who can take charge of Kotogatari as Assistant Narrators and keep them in order. Of course, there’s a salary included!”

“…Salary?”

You could hardly blame Akari for being intrigued by this.

After all, she’d lost her lodgings and all her worldly possessions that very same day. A free place to live, AND pay? She couldn’t believe her luck.

“Yes, and for the role, you’ll need to take care of the Bookhouse, catalog and care for the various Kotogatari… Oh, but actually, I can do all that. So you can continue your current job.”

This was sounding better and better. She could use her company wages to replace the things she’d lost, without needing to worry about paying rent. How convenient.

But still, the work of a Narrator sounded like a lot to take on.

“Why don’t you pick someone who’s had some education as a Narrator? I mean, what about Munakata?”

“A: I’m busy. And B: he’s annoying,” Munakata said from the sofa. So he hadn’t been asleep after all. And actually, Akari was somewhat inclined to agree with him…

From what she’d seen of Tomohito so far…he did seem like a handful.

Still, the question remained—why Akari? She’d never been one to be swayed by fancy promises. There was no such thing as a free lunch. If they just needed a gullible idiot for the job, they’d chosen the wrong woman.

While she was still mulling it over, Tomohito took the bag off his shoulder and held it out to her.

“I want you to take possession of my Kotogatari. Will you accept it?”

Er, nope! Akari wanted to say, but Tomohito’s earnestness had her on the ropes.

Then Munakata interjected, “The holder of a Kotogatari cannot be disobeyed by the Kotogami sealed within. Better to say yes. Then you’ll have some control.”

“Indeed, I shall never disobey your command. But if you accept, we’ll enter into a kind of contract, and my Kotogatari will henceforth open to you alone.”

“I don’t want that kind of…burden.”

“I… I see…”

Tomohito’s face fell as Akari set her jaw firmly in defiance. Despite his clear disappointment, however, he backed down.

It would be better not to enter into any unnecessary contracts.

She was doing the right thing by turning him down, Akari told herself.

It sounded like a sweet deal, yes. But there was no way Akari wanted to live with a Kotogami—a story personified. Not even if accepting would make her life a whole heck of a lot easier.

But Akari was conflicted. Really, really conflicted. After all, she had to make a living somehow, didn’t she?

Eyes still closed, Munakata cleared his throat as Akari continued to prevaricate.

“If you agree to take Tomohito off my hands, I’ll pay you a hardship compensation upfront.”

A hardship compensation, money in hand…she wouldn’t be penniless anymore.

Akari’s scowl unfurled as she immediately asked the most important question of all…

“I don’t have to deal with any scary yokai like that Raiju, do I?”

“No, that’s not part of your job description. I’m not saying you’ll never encounter any dangerous yokai, but if you do, your Kotogami will shield you as you escape.”

“I shall protect you, Mistress, I swear.”

Akari rubbed her chin, still uncertain. But she said nothing.

She felt as though Munakata was manipulating her into this. But he needed to be rid of Tomohito, and she needed money and a place to stay. It was purely transactional, wasn’t it? When she thought about it that way, she knew saying no was no longer an option.

“I want a proper written contract, not just a verbal one. And I’ll do it ONLY until my company lodgings are rebuilt.”

“Thank you very much, Mistress Akari!”

Tomohito’s face lit up as he held his arms out to hug Akari, who dodged him.

His sharp suit and noble aura were becoming rapidly less impressive the more time she spent in his presence, but she had to admit, the Kotogami was handsome.

Munakata sighed with disgust and reluctantly opened his eyes. Yet he remained slumped on the sofa, radiating laziness.

“Make sure you do a decent job. I’ll have a contract drawn up listing your pay and duties. For today… Ah, yes. You can go straight to the Bookhouse. Tomohito knows the way.”

“Let us go together at once!”

Tomohito leaped to his feet and made as if to take Akari’s arm. Sidestepping him, she scooped up the book and the book bag.

She had to shorten the strap a little, but it felt quite comfortable over her arm.

Akari felt a little funny about carrying around one of her hated books, but she told herself it was all in the name of self-preservation.

“Good luck, then. I’ll deliver the necessary documents and so on tomorrow.”

Not even bothering to look at her, Munakata slung his leg over the sofa’s armrest in a slovenly manner and proceeded to fall asleep for real.

Feeling another stab of annoyance and dislike, Akari shrugged. She’d already made up her mind.

“Oh, I’ll carry those for you.”

Tomohito took Akari’s own purse, which made her scowl again. Nonetheless, she followed him out.

So, now the thing was decided, and it was too late to turn back.

∗∗∗

THEY got into the automobile Munakata had waiting for them outside under the dimly glowing electric streetlights. They drove for around ten minutes before alighting outside an imposing manor house, with an iron gate and a tall hedge all around it. Akari was silent.

“This is the Bookhouse where I live.”

“Hold on, Mr. Yagyou…”

“Oh, you can just call me Tomohito. I am your servant, after all.”

Akari ignored him as he blushed modestly, and decided to speak her mind. She didn’t have the energy left for tact.

“This…is an abandoned ruin. Isn’t it?”

The walls of the house were almost completely overgrown with ivy, and the garden was a jungle of untended vegetation.

In the dim bloom of the streetlamps, it looked haunted.

“Don’t worry. The inside is perfectly functional.”

Tomohito opened the gate, seeming not to even notice Akari’s rising sense of alarm. The gate made a metallic shrieking sound loud enough to wake up the neighbors.

Tramping through the overgrowth, Tomohito led Akari across a set of crumbling paving stones to the front doors, which he flung open.

“And we’re home!”

As he spoke, the room was suddenly illuminated.

Akari was relieved that the place at least seemed to be wired for electricity. She gazed around the interior wordlessly. It was probably a rather large entrance hall, only it was hard to tell because it was crammed and piled high with curious objects and wooden crates. She couldn’t even see the floor.

“It’s got Japanese flooring, but everything’s a mess. You can just keep your shoes on.”

Akari stepped obediently forward, her boots crunching over what felt like several layers of dust and gritty sand. She felt impolite walking indoors in her boots, but she wasn’t about to go walking around this mess in just her socks.

The ceilings housed a thick network of cobwebs, and parts of the walls were peeling off.

To add to the dreary atmosphere, the light bulbs seemed to be reaching the end of their life span and kept flickering in a most disconcerting manner.

“Wait, Tomohito.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

Tomohito turned back from his position deeper in the room and smiled at her, clearly pleased to be addressed by name. Then he noticed her expression and his smile faded.

“How long has it been since people lived here?”

“It was last refurbished three years ago, I think? Since then, no specific Narrator has been in residence. Sometimes Munakata uses it to store stuff, though.”

So no one had lived there for three years. It really was abandoned.

“Is there even a place for me to sleep tonight?”

“Sleep? Oh…” Tomohito mumbled, shoulders slumping. Akari took a deep breath, jaw clenching.

“That low-down, dirty, lazy excuse of a military man! Forgot to mention the lodgings he promised were a junk heap, did he?!”

How dare Munakata manipulate her into living in uninhabitable conditions, simply to save himself some bother? She didn’t expect special treatment for being a woman—just basic human decency!

As Akari tried to suppress a wave of anger, a deep crevasse began to form between her brows. Alarmed, Tomohito bent his head low before her.

“I am so sorry. I completely forgot that humans need to sleep. Just wait here a moment. I think there’s some bedding left somewhere; I’ll go and find it. Just please…don’t say you’re going to quit…”

“I’m not going to quit. You know very well I have nowhere else to go.”

Tomohito looked as if he was about to burst into tears. All of a sudden Akari found herself breaking into a wry smile.

He was just like a little abandoned puppy who, after being adopted at last, was terrified of being left alone again.

Akari had no idea why this Kotogami seemed so attached to her. After all, they’d only met earlier that same day.

Surely he wasn’t letting her stay here just to do her a kindness. She’d seen too much of the world to believe that. But Akari had always relied on her own intuition. Anyway, she was set to benefit from this situation.

Besides, she had the feeling it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Just show me to the least disastrous room, will you? I’m very tired and I want to rest.”

After a full day of work, she’d had to contend with a fire at her lodgings, a Raiju attack, a clingy Kotogami, and a battle of minds with the military. No wonder she was exhausted.

Nothing really made sense, but it was too late for any more thinking. Tomorrow was also bound to be busy.

Tomohito looked relieved as he led Akari down a narrow corridor, deeper and deeper into the cluttered recesses of the dark and dingy Bookhouse.