Chapter Two: Kotogatari: Mayoiga

 

 

 

Chapter Two: Kotogatari: Mayoiga

 

“UP… Please…”

Akari awoke to the sound of someone’s voice. Through her eyelids, she could sense the room was dark.

But it was strange that anyone’s voice should wake her, let alone a man’s. There was a man renting the room next to hers, but he didn’t sound like that. She could often hear him talking, because the lodging walls were thin. And also, today was supposed to be Saturday, and her neighbor usually slept in late on weekends.

“Please wake up. It’s morning. Oh, but you DO look very lovely asleep. Perhaps I could be permitted to gaze upon you a little longer…”

As the voice giggled a little, Akari suddenly remembered the events of the prior night and her eyelids flew open.

The room was dim. There were only a few small skylights in the ceiling for letting in light.

The wide room was crammed floor to ceiling with bookshelves, each shelf segment displaying a single book volume, cover facing outward, like a shrine display.

No, they weren’t like shrines. They were shrines.

All these books were clearly Kotogatari, with Kotogami enshrined within their pages.

This room was a special one for storing Kotogatari. It was built for temperature control and had been kept clean. Akari recalled Tomohito telling her this last night.

Akari was sure she’d never sleep well in a room full of the story spirits she abhorred, but there was nowhere else suitable for passing the night. Still, the bedding that was provided was surprisingly useable, and she’d eventually turned in. And now here she was, being awoken by a beautiful young man who was beaming with joy…at her.

He was neatly dressed in the same suit as yesterday.

“Good morning, Mistress Akari.”

“Thanks for waking me up, I guess, but next time you can just call out from the hall.”

She was annoyed, not only because he’d caught her sleeping, but because it was way too early for his characteristic chirpiness.

Tomohito tipped his head to one side and observed her for a moment.

“What’s wrong with coming in to wake you?”

“It’s highly inappropriate for you to be delighting over seeing a lady sleep—a lady you’ve only just met.”

“It’s inappropriate?”

“Also, a man should never enter a lady’s room without permission.”

“He shouldn’t?!”

Tomohito’s eyes were wide and bewildered. Akari felt exhausted, even though she’d only just woken up.

Strictly speaking, this was not a man but a Kotogami. Still, she phrased it that way just because it made things easier to explain. If she’d been a younger woman, she’d probably have started screaming after waking up to find a man in her room. But it was obvious Tomohito had no intentions of laying hands on her.

Even so, thought Akari, but Tomohito had recovered from his surprise and now cleared his throat, his expression meek.

“That may be, but I am your servant. I ask for permission to come into your room and see you sleeping.”

“Fine. But I’m calling you Mr. Yagyou in that case.”

“…I won’t do it again.”

Akari had remembered that last night, he’d been delighted when she’d addressed him by his first name. Her threat was effective—he completely backed down. Did he hate being addressed by his last name so much? Or was being called by his first name such an honorable thing for him?

“A Kotogami is like a witch’s familiar. While we may be hallowed, sacred spirits, we’re also servants to our Narrator masters at the same time. There is no need for you to call me Mister.”

“What’s a witch’s familiar? Never mind, I think I get it.”

Akari started to get out of her futon, shrugging over his explanation. As Tomohito unfolded a kimono and held it open for her, she looked at him blankly.

“A change of clothing, Mistress. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Put the kimono down and leave this room now, or I’m warning you it’s going to be Mister, Mister, Mister from here on out.”

“What?”

“I can get dressed myself! Get out!”

“Oh, but it was my first chance to do something servant-like!” Still clutching her kimono, Tomohito howled like his world had just come crashing down.

He’d called it a change of clothes, but it was just her old silk kimono, the one she’d been wearing yesterday. She’d lost everything in the fire and had nothing else to wear, not even another pair of underwear. Sighing, Akari pulled on her boots as well, although she still hated to wear shoes indoors.

At the very least, she wished she could whack the dust out of her kimono, but she refrained.

She already felt odd enough about sleeping in what was basically a big shrine to countless spirits. If she started throwing dust about the place, she was half-afraid she’d anger them.

After dressing, Akari opened the door to find Tomohito kneeling outside, waiting for her. Face lighting up, he sprang to his feet. He really was just like an obedient puppy.

“Good morning again, Mistress! Breakfast is ready.”

“Breakfast…”

Akari’s mouth filled with saliva. An involuntary reaction, she told herself.

Looking around the old Bookhouse in the morning light, Akari noticed again how much of a hopeless disaster it was.

Cracks on almost every wall. The floor peeling. And that was only the surface of it. The corridors were windy and confusing—the only way through in most cases was to cut through rooms. And there seemed to be several stairways and doorways that didn’t lead anywhere. Getting out of the house without Tomohito’s assistance would be almost impossible. It was as if the entire place had been designed by a child playing with building blocks.

If this was the standard for a Narrator’s office, then the whole bunch of them had to be crazy.

Akari had a more pressing concern, however. What kind of breakfast was she to be served in a madhouse like this (did it even have a working kitchen?) by a Kotogami who didn’t seem to know even the basics about humans?

Akari trailed behind Tomohito, who strode along, clearly familiar with the house’s odd layout. Was he going to serve her uncooked rice or something? But when they reached the dining room, she came to a surprised halt.

“Is something amiss, Mistress?”

“It’s so clean.”

It was true. The dining room was sparkling—as if it belonged to a completely different world than the rest of the house.

The ceilings were cobweb-free, the floors showed not one speck of dust, and the air smelled fresh as if the room had been aired out. The drab dining table and chairs had been polished to a fine shine, and a fresh tablecloth had been laid out. A beam of light slanted through the window, illuminating the pristine room.

“Please have a seat.”

Akari was still stunned by the drastic change of scenery, but she sat in the chair Tomohito indicated. That was when she noticed the dishes arrayed on the table. It was a picture-perfect Western-style breakfast.

The tableware was clean and free of smudges. The nearest plate held what looked like what they called a “salad,” with Japanese komatsuna and mizuna leaves. Another plate held golden-brown toast with a little dish of butter and a pot of jam beside it. There was also a bowl of hard-boiled eggs, if she wasn’t mistaken.

It looked exactly like photographs of Western breakfasts you might see in a woman’s magazine.

“I’ll just go and fetch the tea.”

“Hold on, Tomohito. Did you cook all this? And why is this room the only one that’s clean?”

Akari had come out of her haze by now. Tomohito blushed coyly.

“After we spoke yesterday evening, I realized I don’t know enough about basic human needs. So last night I cracked a few books and studied up, and at the same time, I cleaned. Sadly, I only had time to do the kitchen and dining room before sunrise.”

“You cleaned all night?! While reading books?!”

“Yes. Kotogami don’t need to sleep. I really wanted to serve you scrambled eggs, but there was a mishap in the kitchen. I’m not very good with the stove, you see, and they ended up burned. I had to quickly make some boiled eggs instead, and what with brewing the tea and all, things got rather frantic.”

Tomohito hung his head. Akari was at a complete loss for words.

Instead, she studied the table again. Apart from the salad, which would have required chopping, everything else was very simple to make. But the presentation was very pretty, and Akari appreciated that Tomohito had clearly tried hard to spark her appetite.

“By the way, I bought the groceries at a nearby shop last night. They’re fresh. And I had Kuroe check that everything was okay too.”

“Kuroe? You mean…that military brute’s Kotogami?”

“Yes. She came by with your hardship compensation money already, but the contract will take a little longer. I took the liberty of using some of the money to pay for the groceries.”

“Oh. No, that’s completely fine.”

Tomohito bowed politely. Akari just…sat there for a moment.

First, she hadn’t been expecting such an edible feast at all. And second, Tomohito actually being useful and resourceful had knocked her off-balance.

She’d thought of him as silly and over-the-top. Never would she have expected him to stay up all night cleaning and cooking for her.

After all, if it had been her, she’d have just given up and headed off to a nearby restaurant instead. She often did that when she couldn’t be bothered to cook

Akari’s plan had been to agree to the contract and use this convenient arrangement to get herself back on her feet. Her feelings hadn’t changed in that regard, but she was becoming more and more confused about who this Kotogami Tomohito was and what he wanted with her.

There was a lot to get done, though. Rather than think about it too deeply, she decided to focus on the here and now.

“Thank you, Tomohito. Well, I guess I’ll dig in.”

She needed food inside her before anything else, so Akari began eating.

“…What?”

“You thanked me! AND you’re eating a meal I prepared!”

“Sorry, could you hurry up with that tea? Thanks.”

Okay, so she’d revised her earlier opinion of him a little, but he was still a hopeless case.

He beamed brightly at her, and she found that she didn’t really mind it.

The tea was green tea, and it was horribly bitter. She felt somewhat relieved.

“Now then, shall we start cleaning?”

After clearing her plate, Akari quickly read the curt letter that had also arrived from that military layabout Munakata. Then, she got down to business.

She needed to go shopping since she’d lost all her possessions in the fire. But it was still early morning, and none of the shops would be open. She decided to make good use of her time by sorting out her bedroom in the meantime. Honestly, she couldn’t stomach the thought of another night in that shrine room.

Incidentally, the envelope from Munakata had also contained half a month’s wages in advance, so she decided to stop thinking of him as a brute and a layabout. Having cash in hand had sweetened her up considerably.

During her phone call to the company yesterday they’d told her she could take a few days off, so in that time she intended to turn this Bookhouse into somewhere actually habitable.

“I want to do something with all that junk in the entrance, and I would like at least one room that’s completely clear. Oh, and I want to get the bathroom cleaned right away. Tomohito, where are the cleaning supplies?”

Apart from the kitchen, every other sink and drain in the place was disgusting. But she was dying to take a bath, so she was eager to get the bathroom sorted as a matter of priority.

“In that case, why don’t you try summoning one of the resident Kotogami?”

Akari stopped rolling up her kimono sleeves and made a face as if she’d just bitten into a sour plum. Tomohito’s face fell.

“Do you really hate Kotogami that much?”

“What I hate are stories. Also, I was told I wouldn’t have to act as an actual Narrator.”

As Akari snapped back at him, Tomohito actually began to look somewhat relieved.

“Yes, you’re right, of course. However, this house is maintained by a Kotogami, so you’ll need her approval before you can make any changes.”

“Maintained by a Kotogami? All you do is battle, I thought.”

“Yes, in truth, many of the Kotogami who are sealed within Kotogatari are Aratama… I mean, they are somewhat wild, and skilled fighters… However, the basic function of a Kotogatari is to enshrine a variety of spirits. Mistress Akari, have you ever seen a Narrator summon forth a Kotogami at a shrine festival?”

“Uh, no. I’ve made it my business to avoid Kotogami and stories in general.”

“Yes, you looked quite pained when Munakata was narrating.”

Wait, he noticed?

Akari stared at Tomohito, surprised. He looked deeply wounded by her words for a moment. The next instant, though, his expression cleared.

“Anyway, just as there are all kinds of people, there are also all kinds of Kotogami. I personally am not a fighting type. And there are many who are sealed into books for preservation purposes.”

It was true—Narrators often summoned the spirits to do things like make flower petals dance at festivals and on auspicious occasions.

Akari had been under the impression that Kotogami were dangerous demons sealed up to keep people safe from them. She felt guilty for thinking this now, but there was one thing still bothering her.

“You said you’re not a fighter, but you kicked that Raiju clean into the side of a building.”

“That was more of an adrenaline-rush type of situation.”

Akari nodded thoughtfully as Tomohito continued.

“Since this Bookhouse is sacred ground, you can call forth any Kotogami simply by speaking their name aloud. Why not think of them as fellow residents? Don’t you want to say hello?”

Akari thought about the Kotogatari volumes lined up in the room she’d slept in last night.

He was right. She was going to be living here for a while, and it would be very rude not to greet the current inhabitants.

“So all I have to do is say their name?”

“Yes. Here you go.”

Smiling, Tomohito swiftly offered her a book, clearly a Kotogatari.

Put off by his overeagerness and how he’d clearly had the book all lined up to give to her, Akari grudgingly accepted it.

The book had a sturdy cover and thick pages and was bound Japanese-style. The title read Kotogatari: Mayoiga in ink.

“Each Kotogatari begins with a written summary of the Kotogami in question, and then records of their doings throughout the years. To call forth a Kotogami, one only has to open the book to the first page and read out the name and classification of that particular spirit.”

Records of their doings… Akari gulped. Nonetheless, when she opened the black-covered book to the first page, she could see fat letters written there. All she had to do was state the name, right?

Akari recalled how Munakata had read aloud the previous evening.

“The Mayoiga Mayoi.”

Ink-black letters began to rise from the open book.

The swooping calligraphy rose from the page and swirled in the air before Akari.

Enthralled, she blinked, and the black tendrils turned into fluttering strands of ink-black hair.

In the next instant, a little girl about five years of age was standing in front of Akari.

Her hair was so black, it seemed to absorb the morning sunlight. And it was so long, it obscured her little body and fell to the floor in coils.

Through a gap in the girl’s hair, Akari could see a pale, cherubic face. But as cute as she was, the face was expressionless, as if she’d been made out of clay. She wore a long-sleeved black kimono tucked at the shoulder, and Akari noticed, with some surprise, the lace on the hem and sleeves.

As the little girl stood stock-still, Akari thought the contrasting Japanese and Western elements of her clothing somehow seemed to make sense with the mismatched surroundings of the peculiar old Bookhouse.

But Akari still wasn’t used to Kotogami appearing out of thin air, and she realized she was staring. She also remembered that there was work to be done.

“Hello. I’m the custodian, I guess. I moved in yesterday. My name’s Akari Mitsukuri.”

“I know.”

Oh, she speaks, thought Akari. The girl was so lovely and otherworldly that it came as something of a shock.

“Well, I’d like to ask you to help with cleaning and tidying and decluttering.”

Akari was slightly put off by the contrast between the girl’s sweet voice and the harsh tone she used. Mayoi, meanwhile, continued to gaze up at her through scowling, night-sky eyes.

“No, I won’t help.”

“Mayoi!”

Tomohito reproached her sharply, and Mayoi turned her scowl on him. The next moment, she whirled her long curtain of hair and disappeared on the spot.

There was a pointed silence. Why was the little Kotogami so hostile? Tomohito turned to Akari, bowing apologetically.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mistress Akari. Mayoi was very rude just then.”

“Never mind that. I have a question.”

Akari was starting to get used to the unpredictable behavior of these spirits. She looked up at Tomohito and continued.

“How long have you two been living here together, anyway?”

“Let’s see…ever since I came here, so I think it’s been about ten years?”

“Don’t you get along?”

“I’m mostly just the Kotogami in charge of running the Bookhouse office branch, so we’ve only ever chatted in passing.”

“Well, still, it makes perfect sense. You’re the one at fault here.”

Tomohito’s eyes widened in disbelief as Akari rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache.

“You know what I think? I think Kotogami are surprisingly human. With their own will and desires.”

“Yes. Being enshrined in Kotogatari volumes is what defines our existence. When that happens, we do tend to develop our own independent will, more or less.”

“Right. So after knowing each other for so long, you can’t suddenly bring a strange human into her home without discussing it with her first and expect her to be fine with it.”

Perhaps it wasn’t appropriate to compare Kotogami and humans. But Mayoi’s childish attitude just now—Akari understood it well. After losing her parents, she’d been passed off from one relative to another.

According to Tomohito, Mayoi was sort of like the landlord of this house. A stranger coming in and trying to invade one’s place of work—who’d accept that willingly?

Akari sighed. This wasn’t going well at all. Then she realized Tomohito was watching her anxiously, chewing his lip.

“Are you displeased, Mistress? I mean…a Kotogami who doesn’t even follow orders…”

Akari blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Displeased? Hmm, come to think of it…Tomohito wasn’t human, was he? He was a spirit, created to serve humans. “Mayoi’s duties involve household maintenance and repair. That’s the whole reason she’s here. This is complete abandonment of duty.”

“But I’m not a Narrator. I’m just lodging here. I have no intention of using such a sweet little girl as a servant. I’m fine just having a place to stay.”

Akari wasn’t exactly excited about having to live with a bunch of strange Kotogami either, but Mayoi’s honest, childish reaction had really tugged at her heartstrings.

Akari looked Tomohito up and down. Yes, she preferred the little girl, whom she could understand, to this walking, talking question mark.

“Anyway, I was in the wrong for not considering the feelings of other residents. And you were even more in the wrong.”

“Me?!”

“You betrayed that poor girl, don’t you get that? Was she cold with you last night as well?”

“Now that you mention it…when I spoke to her, she didn’t answer me.”

As Tomohito considered this, realization began to dawn on his face. Finally, Akari thought, putting her hands on her hips.

“Well, whether she likes it or not, I’m going to be living here. And since she didn’t say anything about me not being allowed to clean and tidy, then clean and tidy I shall. Where are the supplies you used last night?”

“Ah, yes. They’re right this way.”

Akari followed as Tomohito got up from his seat in a half daze and wandered out of the room.

Akari picked a room on the second floor to be her bedroom. She’d start there, and then she’d fix up the entrance hall and clear a path between her room and the dining room. If she got those areas done, at least then the house would be livable.

“Why is there…so much…JUNK?!”

Covering her mouth with a handkerchief, Akari put down the box she was holding. She’d picked an empty room on the ground floor to stuff with all the boxes and things that were currently cluttering the hallways. The box in question was filled with ornaments she couldn’t identify.

The boxes stacked high in the entrance hall were filled with an assortment of bric-a-brac, like ornaments, porcelain tableware, and artwork of questionable quality.

When she examined the stuff in the other rooms more closely, she realized a lot of it consisted of random swords and daggers, farming tools, and other items that had no business being in a house like this. One of the rooms was filled with nothing but rows of Jizo Bodhisattva statues, a sight that made her pause. Tomohito, who had joined Akari in hauling boxes around, mistook her expression of frustration as a genuine question.

“All these items are things left behind by prior Narrators. You know how spirits and demons tend to take up residence in old objects? Well, one of a Narrator’s jobs is to transfer those spirits and demons into dedicated Kotogatari. These are the objects left behind after the transference. They’ve been stored here until they can be properly assessed and taken away by antique stores. Anyway, that’s why there’s so much stuff here.”

“It sounds like some sort of storehouse is in order.”

“Well, there was a storehouse once, but a Narrator had it torn down a few years ago.”

Akari could think of a few choice words she’d like to say to that Narrator, but there were more pressing matters.

The thing weighing on Akari most heavily was the mountain of books, which filled more than half the room.

“Why are there so many books? These aren’t Kotogatari, are they?”

Most of the selection seemed to consist of old newspapers and magazines, as well as printed books. They must have been of some value. But piled up carelessly in a heap like this, they seemed like junk to her.

Several volumes had slid off the stacks and were lying open. Akari pursed her lips, realizing she could read the text on display.

“All fiction.”

She could tell from the titles that while some of them were scholarly books, the majority of them were novels or collections of stories. These books were meant for recreational reading. Why were there so many of them here?

Akari gingerly picked up the fallen books and returned them to the stacks, trying hard not to look at any of the words. Tomohito watched her do this, his expression baffled.

“You hate books too?”

“I just don’t like made-up tales. It’s a visceral reaction. They give me the creeps. The shudders.”

At Akari’s all-girls school, young adult fiction books by women writers were all the rage. But Akari couldn’t stomach them and felt left out. When she had to write a book report, Akari was the outlier who wrote the report on her Anglish-language textbook. The teacher thought she was being facetious at first, but her translation was so good they ended up giving her a solid B for effort anyway.

She’d been kind of famous at the school for that little stunt. As she reflected on how comfortable it had been to have nothing to do with fiction after starting with the company, she realized Tomohito was gazing sadly at her.

“I see. So you really hate them that much.”

“Well, no matter how true to life you try to write, it’s not true to life, is it? It’s a story. Trying to pass something fake off as real. It’s warped. That’s how I see it.”

Yes, that was her issue. She especially hated folk tales for this reason.

For example, anyone could say: Once upon a time, this happened. But even the storyteller couldn’t know for sure if it did. It seemed so irresponsible to Akari. Nothing was ever black and white. But Akari had no problem letting those who liked stories enjoy them. Go ahead. She just couldn’t find any enjoyment in them herself.

Tomohito paused, digesting Akari’s bitter stance on storytelling. It looked as if he had something he wanted to say, but he thought better of it and returned to the topic at hand.

“Anyway, you asked why there are so many books here. They’re left over from previous Narrators, and also Munakata tends to dump books here when he can’t be bothered with— Ahem. When he needs temporary storage for them. Apparently, a Narrator is in need of many books from which to learn phraseology and terminology. But as this Bookhouse doesn’t have a dedicated library…”

“The entire design of this house is a joke.”

Was this place really designed for Narrators? Akari was starting to have her doubts. But Tomohito just smiled wryly.

“I did manage to take a look at the blueprints back in the early days, but they’ve since disappeared… Ah, I’ll put these down here.”

Disappeared, did they? thought Akari dryly as Tomihito set down the heavy stack of boxes he was holding without even a grunt. He was slim built and delicate looking, but he seemed to have physical strength surpassing that of any ordinary man. Thanks to his help, the carrying work was now done.

“It looks like it’s finally time to start cleaning.”

As Akari made to walk out of the room, the door closed in her face. She turned the handle, but the door was now locked.

Again? she thought, grimacing. Beside her, Tomohito bowed, his face a mix of anger and guilt.

“I’m so sorry—Mayoi is acting up again… I’ll have to kick every door in the house off its hinges, and then…”

“All that’s going to achieve is provoking Mayoi even more. Can you climb out of the window and open it from the outside?”

“Certainly, Mistress.”

Tomohito unlocked the window and climbed out, then unlocked the door from the outside a few moments later.

Apparently, he’d found furniture and boxes stacked up against the door.

Akari stepped out, looking over her shoulder to see a curtain of black hair whirling at the end of the corridor.

“Curse you, Mayoi!”

Tomohito noticed her too and charged after her. But he soon returned, shoulders slumping. She’d given him the slip somehow. Mayoi was playing childish pranks on them, like a poltergeist.

Clearly, she had free reign of the house and knew all the best ways to trap and trick them. Her repertoire consisted of locking doors on them and blocking their path with furniture, nothing dangerous, but she just wouldn’t stop. Akari felt herself getting frustrated.

Perhaps Akari having possession of Mayoi’s Kotogatari meant that Mayoi was prevented from doing her any actual harm. Kotogami were bound to obey whoever was in possession of their book and had spoken their name, after all.

Indeed, Mayoi was doing a stellar job of harassing Akari without even needing to lay a finger on her.

Countless times, Akari felt eyes on her and turned, only to see a flailing tendril of black hair or a lacy sleeve fluttering. Mayoi was watching her.

Undeterred, Akari and Tomohito took up brooms and cleaning rags, but it was impossible to move around with all the doors being locked before them. Their bucket of soapy water was kicked over. Their cleaning rags disappeared when their backs were turned and reappeared slung over light fixtures high above reach. Brooms were placed strategically so that they tripped over them. Akari was completely at the mercy of the small child spirit.

Just when the cleaning seemed to be done, Akari suddenly noticed that all the junk she’d painstakingly moved to the designated junk room was now neatly stacked up along the corridor. She flopped down on the floor in despair. Tomohito came running back from Akari’s room just then and fell to his knees before her.

“I am so terribly sorry! I’m afraid your room appears to be full of books…”

“I see. So she’s playing dirty, is she…?”

Mayoi must have been eavesdropping when Akari had mentioned hating books earlier. It had taken both Akari and Tomohito working together to move the books in the first place, but Mayoi had somehow managed to move them all by herself. She must have really wanted to get under Akari’s skin.

“I have to say, I’m feeling quite fed up with all this.”

“Here’s her Kotogatari. You could always assume control of her, before this gets any worse.”

“Could I?”

“Yes, such is the power of the Kotogatari. Our spirit tomes are a part of ourselves. If they’re damaged, we become weakened. And we can never disobey the one who possesses them.”

“But that seems kind of mean.”

Tomohito sounded extremely serious all of a sudden. Akari gently touched the bookbag she was wearing cross-body. Possessing this book was like possessing a living soul. What a heavy responsibility. No wonder she was hesitating.

“What is your decision, Mistress?”

Akari looked into Tomohito’s solemn eyes and sighed, then got to her feet.

She knew Tomohito was waiting for her order. But Akari felt zero inclination to do what he was suggesting. Mayoi’s interference was certainly hindering the cleaning process, but as long as she didn’t escalate things, Akari was willing to ignore her mischief.

“Before any of that, I’m going shopping. Will you accompany me, Tomohito?”

Tomohito’s eyes instantly widened. She must have said something surprising, but what?

“May I? I could stay behind and continue tidying if you need me to…?”

“I have a lot of things to buy. I can’t carry them all by myself. Having a man’s help would be good.”

“You need my help?!”

“That’s what I keep saying. Also, I don’t know any of the shops near here. I need you to guide me.”

As Akari untucked her kimono sleeves, Tomohito nodded his head vigorously, eyes sparkling. He was clearly delighted to be receiving orders from Akari.

He’s so weird, thought Akari, patting the dust from her kimono.

She looked around but couldn’t spot a hint of Mayoi’s long black hair. No doubt she was watching, though. Akari raised her voice a few decibels.

“Bye, Mayoi. We’re going shopping. Look after the house while we’re gone.”

Akari thought she could hear a tiny foot stamping the floorboards somewhere in the house.

∗∗∗

THE neighborhood around the Bookhouse was a quiet residential one, with houses spaced far apart.

It had been too dark last night to notice much, but as Akari followed Tomohito to the main street, she could hear the hustle and bustle all around.

“Is this the Shinkuju neighborhood?”

“Yes. This area was originally far from the city center, and a lot of Bookhouses were built around here.”

“Far from the city center? Isn’t it better to be closer?”

“If a Kotogami goes on a rampage, there will be fewer casualties like this.”

“Oh. I see.”

Great, another reminder of the dangerous responsibility she’d been manipulated into shouldering. Akari’s expression soured, but Tomohito didn’t notice.

“It’s become a bustling business district now, but many Narrators and members of the military live here, or so I’m told.”

Tomohito’s voice was cheerful as he looked back at Akari, a rickshaw driver dashing past on the main street behind him.

Shinkuju was located on the fringes of the city center, but recent rapid development had begun to revolutionize the area. There was a tram station now, with regular trams into the heart of the city. Department stores, cafés, and milk bars had sprung up, and young boys and girls gathered at the newly established dance halls, seeking a taste of modern excitement.

Also, since there was a lot of cheap housing, the area attracted writers and painters and all kinds of artists. It had become the birthplace of a certain type of chaotic, bohemian, delinquent culture.

Akari wasn’t sure how safe she felt there and made a mental note to find out more about the area later.

Keeping pace a step behind her, Tomohito spoke up. “What are we shopping for first?”

“Let’s start with the light things. I need kimono for work, and cosmetics.”

“If you need kimono, there are several back at the Bookhouse.”

“I’m not going to wear old kimono stained with blood, thanks.”

“The demons that once possessed them have already been safely sealed in Kotogatari.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Tomohito gazed at her without comprehension. Akari sighed and shrugged.

Even if there were kimono available that hadn’t been possessed by creepy spirits, Akari didn’t want to wear any clothing from that house of horrors. And she refused to feel bad about it!

That said, though, she had noticed a few nice hair combs and things like that among the curios and knickknacks, and she’d deigned to borrow those.

Tomohito had said the items were only being stored because of the difficulty in disposing of them, and surely no one would mind if she put them to use. Akari knew that if she heard any of the tales behind the items, she’d be too grossed out to use them, so she’d silenced Tomohito when he seemed about to launch into detailed explanations.

“But first off, I need lunch. Hey, do you even eat food?”

Akari wanted to go to a restaurant, but it would be terribly rude for both of them to take up a table when only one was ordering. She shot Tomohito an apologetic look, but he merely smiled.

“I have no need of food, but I can eat. Or I can return to my Kotogatari for a while and leave you to your lunch. Would you like me to do that?”

“Don’t give me that wounded puppy-dog look. Stay and eat with me. In fact, if you could sit opposite me, that would be even better.”

“Can I really stay? I was so afraid that you didn’t want to be seen with me!”

So he’d noticed that Akari had been trying to give him a wide berth while they were in town. She blushed now, ashamed of herself a little. As Tomohito blinked at her, she felt a need to clarify something. Namely, the reason why she’d prefer he join her for lunch.

“Listen, it’s not really socially acceptable for a woman to eat by herself in a restaurant in this day and age. So I need you there to deflect attention.”

The rise of working women had changed the way society treated them all, to an extent. But women were still subject to judgmental glances whenever they were alone in public. That hadn’t changed.

If she could work to support herself, then she ought to have the right to eat alone in public, Akari had always thought. But society didn’t share her opinion. Even at her little commercial affairs company, which employed lots of women, she got critical stares whenever she left the office for lunch. It wasn’t normal behavior.

“I don’t usually give it a second thought when I eat out near my company’s office. But since you’re here, it would be a shame to waste you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t really understand what you mean, but I’m happy to be of assistance any way I can. Please use me to deflect attention as needed.”

Tomohito bowed with visible excitement, and Akari smiled inwardly.

He really didn’t know anything about how human society worked. At least not in a practical, real-world sense. If a man and a woman were seen walking together, anyone would think they were married. Or at least engaged. But since she wasn’t likely to run into any acquaintances here, there was nothing to worry about.

Anyway, whether he understood them or not, Akari felt a little pleased that Tomohito didn’t share society’s strict views.

“Say, I wonder if there’s anywhere around here that does a good grilled beef bowl.”

The beef bowl Munakata had scarfed down in front of her last night was still hot on Akari’s mind, a fact she’d never admit but which was true nonetheless.

After filling her belly with a very good and succulent beef bowl, Akari had Tomohito show her where to buy various daily necessities.

Luckily, with Shinkuju being the birthplace of all things fashionable, there were plenty of secondhand clothing stores and sundry-goods stores around. Akari had been expecting to have to walk all over town. How convenient to have so many stores in close proximity.

Akari bought clothes, a slipcover for the Bookhouse’s raggedy futon, and various daily essentials. The cosmetics she needed for work were what really burned a hole in her purse.

∗∗∗

“I knew this would be a huge hassle, but I’m totally exhausted…”

“You poor thing. I can escort you somewhere for a rest if you’d like.”

“The biggest problem was you, actually. But never mind.”

As they stepped out of the final secondhand clothes shop (ruthlessly combed through by Akari), she shot a reproachful glance at Tomohito, who lolloped along beside her.

The shopping trip had actually been quite successful. The advance pay packet was generous, and while she couldn’t afford to go overboard, she was able to buy the things she wanted without hesitation.

But being accompanied by a strikingly handsome young man drew too many stares her way. She’d forgotten to worry about that. In his smart three-piece suit, Tomohito looked as if he might have been the son of some aristocrat. Or at the very least, a high-end butler at some rich man’s mansion.

And here was Akari, in her shabby silk kimono, being followed around by him and addressed as “Mistress.”

Of course people were staring and doing double-takes. And shooting Akari suspicious looks, surprised that it wasn’t the other way around, with her as the servant. She’d made Tomohito wait outside while she was buying new undergarments, but the rest of the time she felt under constant scrutiny in his presence. It made her cringe.

“Face powder, brow pencil, and rouge? You don’t look like you need any of that, Mistress Akari.”

As they walked away from the cosmetics store, Akari felt exhaustion wash over her as Tomohito commented on her purchases.

“A woman needs to wear makeup. It’s proper manners for any decent member of society.”

She supposed she should be glad he hadn’t made a comment like that in front of the beauty counter saleswomen, whose gaze had made Akari nervous. Should she just take it as a compliment?

She didn’t really feel like challenging him on it, after all.

Akari had chosen extra-white face powder and a lighter brow pencil, as well as the current fashion: rouge. Recently, women had been emphasizing blood flow to the cheeks using artificial rouge, and when Akari tried it, she’d liked the way it looked. And so, she bought it.

While she’d been consulting with the beauty counter staff and trying out samples, Tomohito had waited silently, never complaining about being left out.

Instead, he’d watched her shopping bags diligently like a proper servant. When Akari looked up at him now, he suddenly met her gaze.

As if realizing something, his eyes widened, then narrowed again. “Oh, but that ‘rouge’ looks very nice on you, Mistress Akari.”

Being praised so openly made Akari’s cheeks grow so hot, she doubted she even needed the rouge. How many compliments had she received that day already? He’d said something similar when she’d purchased her new kimono too.

Thanks to all the samples she’d tried, Akari was sporting a full face of makeup and was feeling quite pretty. Being complimented on it by someone else made her feel prettier still. How could she help blushing?

And Tomohito had waited so patiently for her. How could she crush his feelings after that?

“You seem to be in a good mood…”

The words just slipped out, but Tomohito blinked and smiled at her softly.

“Yes. Walking around town with you like this makes me very happy.”

“I mean…all you’ve done is watch my bags for me.”

“Precisely! Being useful to you is my number one joy!”

As he beamed at her, traipsing along with a spring in his step, Akari tried to keep at least a full arm’s distance between them. His behavior had her feeling on edge, still. They’d known each other less than twenty-four hours, and Akari wasn’t sure yet how to take his eager displays of servitude toward her.

Perhaps she was overthinking it, but Akari wasn’t the kind of woman who was used to people catering to her. She was more annoyed than anything else. Not even slightly thrilled.

Nodding mildly, she decided to change the subject.

“Are you sure you don’t mind carrying all of that?”

All her purchases had been wrapped up in a cloth bundle, which was now slung over Tomohito’s shoulder. He looked strange, dressed in a fine suit while carrying a sack of possessions like a commoner.

But Tomohito only smiled and readjusted the bundle.

“It is no burden at all, Mistress Akari. After all, you’ve got Kotogatari to carry.”

Akari touched the bag she was wearing slung across her body, lost for words for a moment.

Tomohito’s and Mayoi’s Kotogatari were inside. The bag was made of sturdy amber-brown leather and had some weight to it. She could still carry more, though.

After Tomohito had announced he would carry all the bags, she’d offered to split the load. But he’d refused, point-blank.

In the end, the only things he’d let her carry were a few cosmetics.

“Our Kotogatari volumes are of vital importance to us Kotogami. So if something were to happen, I’d certainly appreciate your full efforts to protect it. The leather won’t spoil, so if you could carry it close to you at all times, that would be splendid.”

“…As I said before, I am NOT wearing this thing to work.”

“Are you quite sure you won’t?”

Tomohito turned his puppy-dog eyes on her again, but she refused to back down on this one.

Even as his eyes glistened, Akari knew she couldn’t take something like that to the office. It would stand out, and people would ask questions. And what if it was confiscated?

“If it’s that important, it shouldn’t be taken out and about where anything could happen to it.”

“I see. In that case, I understand.”

Tomohito finally sighed and nodded in resignation.

He doesn’t seem to understand at all, thought Akari as they passed a kashihonya, a lending library.

Commoners couldn’t afford to just pick up the latest publications the moment they came out, so instead they rented almost everything they read from the myriad lending libraries available all over the city.

Akari couldn’t help noticing it. Perhaps because she was presently in the company of a book spirit. But there was nothing remarkable about this one—bookstores and lending libraries were a dime a dozen in the capital. And up-and-coming Shinkuju was no exception to the rule.

Reading books without having to own them. That might be a good arrangement for the readers, but Akari wondered how the books would feel about it.

Her mind wandering, she recalled the scowl on the face of the little girl Kotogami.

“I wonder what Mayoi is getting up to at the house. I hope she’s not moving all the junk into my bedroom to spite me.”

“No, Mayoi’s right there.”

Akari blinked.

Tomohito was looking at her leather bag for some reason.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“Kotogami always return to their designated Kotogatari after being separated from it a certain distance. Also, you didn’t manifest her with the power of a narration spell of your own, so the moment you removed the book from the Bookhouse, her residential spell dissipated. Mayoi is asleep inside her Kotogatari as we speak.”

“…So that’s why you wanted me to bring it along with us…”

Akari had left the house fully prepared for a world of trouble when she returned. She almost felt disappointed.

Akari should have been pleased, but she felt uneasy. Tomohito was watching her with a hesitant look on his face.

“Uh, about Mayoi…”

“You should mend relations with her as soon as possible.”

“Ah… Mistress Akari, you seem to believe the fault lies with me. But I dare say it goes deeper than that.”

His tone had softened now, and Akari looked at him shrewdly as he continued, his expression humble.

“I always intended to follow no other orders but yours, Mistress Akari, and so I have kept my distance from the other Narrators that have taken up posts at our Bookhouse. But Mayoi followed the orders of each of them. And not just because they held her Kotogatari, but of her own will.”

Wait, he always…what? Akari paused for a moment, struck by the first part of his sentence, which didn’t make any sense. But they were discussing Mayoi just then, and she wanted to hear the rest. She held her tongue and let Tomohito continue.

“Mayoi was enshrined as a Mayoiga variant of Kotogami, with the appropriate powers for that definition. She was assigned to perform basic household maintenance and upkeep for our Bookhouse. She was originally a house-dwelling spirit, and fostering a pleasant household environment was what made her happy. So she had no objections. But the Narrators who took up posts here didn’t treat her right.”

“…Were they violent toward her?”

Akari grimaced, picturing it, and Tomohito looked sad.

“No…but they ordered her around, without even deigning to read her Kotogatari. Telling her to improve the residence more, make it nicer, make it happier.”

Akari was becoming more and more puzzled. Sensing her confusion, Tomohito continued blandly:

“There are a lot of spirits whose purpose is to keep houses tidy and make them enjoyable to live in. For example, Zashikiwarashi—household deities in the form of red-faced child spirits with bobbed hair—and Mayoiga. Such spirits are easy to enshrine in Kotogatari. But while the category may be the same, the spirits enshrined within are all different, with their own unique personalities.”

“So ‘Mayoiga’ is more like a job description, and not a description of Mayoi herself?”

Akari thought she was starting to get it. Tomohito nodded.

“For a Kotogami to use their powers fully, their stories must be read with compassion. The Kotogatari is a guide for the narration, of course. But the Narrators who came here narrated without any compassion. They simply saw her as another interchangeable Mayoiga spirit.”

“So it’s kind of like trying to use one of the new modern appliances without bothering to read the instruction manual?”

Akari bit her tongue. How rude of her to compare a divine spirit to a household appliance. But Tomohito smiled, looking pleased.

“…Mistress Akari, you understand so well! But those other Narrators never bothered to even think about it. And when they realized she has greater power than most Mayoiga, they became so demanding. And yet, Mayoi never refused their orders, despite their careless treatment of her Kotogatari.”

So the spirit known as Mayoi was unable to defy orders, even when treated with disrespect. Akari wasn’t sure how to process that. But then Tomohito changed the subject.

“You thought the house badly designed, did you not?”

“I mean, yes…some of the construction work seemed…haphazard.”

“That was all Mayoi’s work. She was ordered to alter the layout of the rooms using her power. But construction work is usually beyond a normal Mayoiga’s power. It’s possible the Narrators were only messing with her, at first. But Mayoi did her best to fulfill their every command to the very limits of her ability. After seeing what she could do, they pushed too far, not even bothering to read her Kotogatari with respect. Then, when she could no longer meet their demands, they left the Bookhouse for good.”

Akari frowned, surprised by this tale. That was one explanation for the house’s bizarre structure that had never even crossed her mind.

If what Tomohito was saying was true, then the spirit Mayoi had been forced to work like a machine, without the user even bothering to read the accompanying specification document. That would be fine if she were an actual machine. But Kotogami had feelings.

“There was no need for her to go that far, though, surely. Wouldn’t it have been better to get far away from people who were pushing her, despite knowing what her limits were?”

“But it’s a terrible thing for a Kotogami, to be left unread. We tend to cling to humans…hoping to be known just a little, by someone. And Mayoi was desperate to be known.”

Tomohito’s tone was so solemn. Akari felt she could debate the issue no further.

“If you’d like to know more about those days, the previous Narrators left journals in the house. And if you want to know about Mayoi, you can learn all you need from reading her Kotogatari.”

“You want me to…read her Kotogatari?”

Akari’s tone was incredulous, even angry, but Tomohito seemed oblivious.

“Yes. You seem to have the wrong impression somewhat, Mistress Akari, but a Kotogatari is basically just a historical account in the form of a story. Some events are… embellished, but all are true.”

“So you’re saying it’s a dramatization of true events?”

“Yes. It’s like a personal history, written by a third party. And as such, the writer’s bias may color the text. That’s what the Narrator who enshrined me always said. It’s not quite the same as a story, but it does resemble one. So I won’t push you into reading it too firmly.”

That’s when Tomohito fell silent. But his beautiful eyes remained fixed on Akari.

“…There is no higher joy for a Kotogami than to have their Kotogatari read by a human.”

Akari thought she felt the slightest stirring sensation coming from the bag hanging by her hip.

Joy. The word tugged at her. Even though she’d planned to involve herself as little as possible…

Akari thought about the little doll face, the long black hair.

Tomohito had said the Narrators hadn’t bothered to properly read her Kotogatari. They’d probably barely skimmed it. And yet, Mayoi had followed their commands. What was behind her desperation to be read, to be known, even superficially?

Was her wish to remain watching over this house?

No, she couldn’t let herself be swayed by sob stories. This was Tomohito’s word against, well, nothing. Who knew if it was the truth? Blindly believing anything Tomohito said was no better than believing in one of the deceitful stories Akari so hated.

Akari made up her mind to wait until later to draw a conclusion, but there was one more thing she wanted to ask Tomohito.

“Incidentally…your story makes it sound like you were there, too, when the Narrators were interacting with Mayoi.”

“Yes, it was when she was entrusted with the house’s care, back when the first owner was around.”

“So what were you doing while all those horrible Narrators were using her?”

“I… Nothing… Mayoi wanted it to be the way it was. And I’m a Kotogami too. I understand wanting to be known by someone.”

“…I see.”

She could detect no hint of regret or shame in his beautiful smile, and Akari pressed no further. She had a feeling there was nothing to be gained by doing so, anyway.

“All right. Well, I suppose all that’s left is to buy something to eat for dinner and head back home.”

“Certainly, Mistress. What would you like for dinner?”

“The house has a stove, right? Then I’ll make it myself.”

“You’re going to cook, Mistress Akari?!”

Tomohito didn’t seem to mind that she’d changed the subject, but for some reason the thought of her cooking had made him yelp. He seemed aghast at the mere suggestion of her taking this job away from him.

“You said you had trouble with the stove. And I want to eat cooked white rice and miso soup. Oh yes, we’d better buy some rice, and miso, and soy sauce too.”

“Then I shall hold your belongings as you cook! Even though it pains me to lose this task…”

“Let’s put these things away first, before I start cooking.”

They weren’t all that heavy, but they were bound to get in the way. And Tomohito’s theatrics were starting to stretch Akari’s last nerve.

When Akari pushed open the front door of the Bookhouse, she could see Mayoi’s black hair fluttering at the far end of the entrance hall.

“I apologize. Mayoi and the house are kind of a package deal, so she tends to jump out of her book at will whenever it’s brought onto the premises.”

Half-listening to him, Akari set about making dinner.

The gas and water kept cutting out, probably thanks to Mayoi’s mischief. And Tomohito’s rapt fascination with everything she was doing was another annoyance. But the meal she prepared tasted as good as it always did. Akari liked Western fare just fine, but you couldn’t beat a bowl of steaming, fluffy white rice.

∗∗∗

AFTER changing, Akari said good night to Tomohito and went to lay out her futon in the library.

“So I’m back in here again. Oh well, it’s not like I’ve got the time or energy to move all that junk back out of the other room tonight, so it will have to do.”

Muttering grumpily to herself, Akari nonetheless felt rather cheerful. After all, she’d just enjoyed a good hot bath.

At first, she’d planned to go to the nearby public bathhouse, but Tomohito had stopped her, saying it was too dangerous at night.

She’d quickly spruced up the bathroom and run a bath, which was full and hot in no time thanks to the house being equipped with a gas water heater.

Akari had thought Mayoi might have performed some mischief that would force her to take a cold bath, but no, she was able to enjoy this home comfort. Even if she did have to fend off a certain bothersome Kotogami who was armed with a sponge and a firm determination to scrub her back for her.

Now dressed in a sleeping robe, Akari sat down on the futon and looked around her. The room had an air of sacred stillness, save for the pile of new packages stacked up in a corner.

They didn’t go with the room. They were the things Akari had bought that day. Nobody had tampered with them while she was in the bath. “So Mayoi didn’t toss all my stuff outside like I feared.”

The room was full of creepy things that would usually have caught her attention, but right now all she could think about was finding out more about Mayoi.

After thinking about it at length, Akari drew Mayoi’s Kotogatari out from the satchel. She ran her fingers over the smooth black cover. And she felt a twinge inside her chest.

Tomohito had told her that a Kotogatari was like a historical report of a Kotogami, written in the form of a story.

He’d said they were something different altogether from the fictional stories Akari disliked.

“I don’t even know why I hate stories so much myself…”

Akari had used the word hate to describe her feelings to Tomohito. But with a story open in front of her now, what she was feeling was apprehension and a desire to escape. It was a strange feeling, somehow subtly different from mere hate or dislike.

Her memories of her childhood were hazy, but Akari seemed to recall enjoying fables and fairytales before her parents died. It was only when she was all alone in the world, being shunted from one relative to another, that she’d begun to dislike them. The world of fantasy was something she began to actively avoid.

Looking down at the Kotogatari in her lap, she realized she felt even more nervous to read it than she would a regular novel. Nevertheless, she was very curious about Mayoi.

“I need information before I can form an opinion on anything.”

Was she trying to convince herself by saying that out loud?

She had a feeling she’d been manipulated into this by Tomohito. But part of her really wanted to know more about Mayoi, too.

There were journals stacked on a separate shelf from the Kotogatari volumes.

Those were probably the journals left behind by the Narrators who’d taken up positions in this Bookhouse. There was also a conveniently placed reading desk in the room, complete with a chair and a hanging lamp.

Perhaps by reading, she could get some insights on how to make this new lifestyle of hers go smoother. But then she thought of something.

“Will Mayoi even let me read her Kotogatari?”

Tomohito had stopped her from reading his own Kotogatari, after all… But telling herself that if Mayoi didn’t want her Kotogatari read, she’d surely stop her, Akari stroked the book’s black cover again.

“Please tell me about yourself, Mayoi…”

Akari took a seat at the reading desk and placed the Kotogatari on the book stand. The dim electric light hummed overhead as she turned the pages with a dry whispery sound.

∗∗∗

THE next morning, Akari, fighting back a yawn, ate the Japanese-style breakfast Tomohito had prepared.

The rice was cold leftovers from the batch she’d steamed last night, but with miso soup and boiled greens in fish broth, it made for a satisfactory breakfast.

“Mistress Akari, it appears you stayed up late last night. Why not go back to bed for a while?”

“No, I’ve got too much to do.”

Feeling self-conscious about the dark circles under her eyes, Akari brushed off Tomohito’s concern and got up from the table.

“Tomohito, I have a request.”

“A request!”

Tomohito’s face lit up, predictably. Akari cringed to see it.

“…There’s no need to look so excited. All I want is to have a chat with Mayoi.”

Akari had stayed up all night reading Mayoi’s Kotogatari and the old Narrator journals, and she thought she was starting to grasp the circumstances now. Mayoi’s Kotogatari told the tale of a very lonely little spirit.

Once, a certain powerful family lived in a grand house inhabited by a little house spirit. During her time with them, she brought happiness and good luck to the household.

But then one day the powerful family moved away, leaving the little spirit all alone in the beautiful mansion. She spent her days taking care of lost travelers who wandered into the house. This happened only once or twice every few decades. The rest of the time, the little spirit was utterly alone. Then one day, she was discovered by a Narrator and tasked with household management under the given Kotogami name “Mayoi.”

Mayoi had always adored human beings. Moreover, she was lonely from centuries of solitude, and so she obeyed every command given to her by her Narrator.

Akari thought about how Mayoi had left her purchases alone. And about how, when she and Tomohito had returned from shopping, Mayoi had caused no further mischief. That had to mean that Mayoi didn’t really want to drive Akari out. And unlike Tomohito, she’d made no attempt to prevent Akari from reading her Kotogatari. Which had to mean she didn’t mind Akari reading it, right?

Mayoi’s bad behavior was probably just a knee-jerk reaction to Akari’s sudden arrival. Mayoi had been mistreated by humans but still couldn’t let go of her attachment to them. She must have felt so confused. And that emotional turmoil had come out in naughtiness and pranks. The little girl was clearly desperate for attention.

But all that was only Akari’s conjecture. That was why she wanted to talk with Mayoi properly. Face-to-face, if possible.

Akari had a feeling that using Mayoi’s Kotogatari to call her forth, as the previous Narrators had done, would be counterproductive.

“…I plan to track Mayoi down to have a chat with her. If you wouldn’t mind—”

“Leave it to me.”

Tomohito cut her off before she could finish, disappearing from sight with a nod. Akari blinked several times, then almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of loud banging coming from down the hall, followed by a shriek.

“Yeek!”

“Mistress Akari wishes to speak with you. Come along at once.”

A moment later, Tomohito came into view again, beaming with pride as he staggered down the hallway while holding a struggling Mayoi under his arm.

“Mistress Akari! I have brought Mayoi to you!”

“How dare you treat a little girl that way?! Put her down at once!” Akari shouted at Tomohito, who wilted visibly and let Mayoi down.

“I know how she looks, but Mayoi is decades older than you, Mistress Akari…”

“I know that—I read her Kotogatari myself! I wanted to have a nice peaceful talk with her, but now you’ve ruined it! Next time, think before blindly leaping to assist me!”

“Y-Yes, Mistress…”

Tomohito bowed low, seemingly realizing Akari was seriously mad right now.

Akari took a deep breath and turned to Mayoi, who sat sprawled on the hallway floor.

Mayoi blinked up at her weakly, her long hair falling messily over her shoulders. From the sound of the banging, Akari feared she’d been subjected to violence, but she couldn’t see any visible bruises or scrapes.

Tomohito’s lucky there aren’t any bruises, thought Akari darkly as she sat down on the floor in front of Mayoi.

The little spirit’s long black hair was unkempt, as if it hadn’t been properly cared for. Between the strands of hair Akari could just spot two shining black eyes peering out at her.

“I read your Kotogatari. And I know what those other Narrators made you do. After everything humans have put you through, why didn’t you try to make me leave for real? Why the silly mischief?”

The records of the Narrators had all varied slightly, but generally they spoke of how pleased they were to be assigned to the residence, and how excited they were for the chance to try out such a rare collection of Kotogatari volumes.

It seemed she’d underestimated how special a Bookhouse this old building was.

From the writings in the old journals, it was clear that those Narrators were like children with a bunch of shiny new toys. But they grew increasingly annoyed with the Kotogami who didn’t instantly follow their every order. What a bunch of jerks. Were all Narrators this selfish? Akari wondered.

But regardless, Mayoi had continued to heed the commands of those Narrators right up until the day they’d left of their own volition. She heeded even when those orders involved warping the original architecture of the house, when her role was only supposed to be tidying and maintaining it. Mayoi had to have grown exhausted.

And then, another human had come barging into the house. Wouldn’t anyone want to kick said human out if they were in Mayoi’s place? Akari definitely would. But the spirit had only messed with her. Why hadn’t she seriously tried to get rid of her? That was what Akari wanted to know.

As Akari waited patiently, Mayoi’s eyes filled with unease. Then she spoke in a tiny voice. “A house needs humans. Mayoi doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

Akari recalled a passage from Mayoi’s Kotogatari.

──When a baby was born unto the family of a wealthy household, the spirit appeared to care for the babe, and to improve the habitat of the humans, and to bring warmth to the household. To this end, the spirit devoted its entire being.

Mayoi’s role as a spirit—it was to serve and maintain the house in which she resided. But what use was it to keep up a house with no human residents? Being a house spirit for humans, that was Mayoi’s sole reason for existing. It really was just as the Kotogatari records said.

“I tried so many times to change the house so that my masters would like it enough to stay, but they never did, and all of them left. I’m so tired now. I was scared you were going to say you didn’t want me either.”

This was the first time Akari was hearing Mayoi really speak. Her voice was so innocent, so heartbroken.

The little girl spirit gazed at Akari through the strands of her long hair.

“Do you want to change the house too?”

It was as if the little girl was letting Akari know that she would do it, if only Akari requested it. But Akari shook her head.

“No, I don’t need you to do that. I’m not your mistress.”

“…You’re not a Narrator?”

Mayoi blinked at her in surprise. Relieved that they’d finally gotten around to the matter at hand, Akari continued.

“No, I’m not. I’m just in charge of looking after this house for a short period of time. I have no plans to make you work for me. All I ask is that you give me your permission to stay here.”

“But Tomohito calls you Mistress.”

“Haha… About that. We haven’t really cleared that up yet…”

“You ARE my mistress, Mistress Akari!”

“You be quiet. Hmm, anyway…”

Ignoring Tomohito, Akari turned her focus back to Mayoi.

“Tomohito prefers to call me Mistress, so that’s why he does it. But you’re your own person, Mayoi. If you want to call me that, you can. And if you don’t want to, that’s fine too. I know you’ve got your own will. After all, that’s why you were causing me so much trouble yesterday, right?”

Mayoi chewed her bottom lip and looked guilty as Akari gave her a wink.

“So, what about my request? Will you permit me to live in this house too?”

“…What kind of house would you like it to be?”

Akari blinked in surprise, but her answer came readily.

“If possible, I’d like to live in a warm, happy household just like the one described in your Kotogatari.”

Now it was Mayoi who blinked at Akari in surprise. Akari thought about what she’d read in the Narrator’s journals again.

“After all, you know all about running a household, don’t you Mayoi? It would be presumptuous of a layperson like me to tell you what to do. This house was originally a Western-style manor, wasn’t it? But it’s had all kinds of adjustments to make it more like a traditional Japanese house. It might be nice to put it back how it was. You like Western-style things, don’t you?”

The long-sleeved kimono Mayoi was wearing had lace attached to the collar and sleeves.

Such an adjustment would need hours of research and trial and error to produce something that didn’t look like a mismatched mess. And Mayoi’s kimono looked absolutely perfect.

Akari didn’t mention the kimono out loud, but Mayoi noticed her looking at it, and her cheeks flushed.

“Really? It’s okay?”

“Sure! Oh, but please make sure it stays livable, like a house.”

From what was written in Mayoi’s Kotogatari, Akari was pretty sure Mayoi could only rearrange the building in ways that would still keep it habitable by humans, but she felt the need to add that little caveat, just in case. Nodding, Mayoi got to her feet.

Akari noticed her fine black kimono again.

“Where’s my Kotogatari?”

“It’s right here.”

“Open it please.”

Akari got to her feet as well, pulled the book from her bag, and opened it. Then as if on cue, Mayoi began to slowly rotate on the spot.

“May my mistress’s words manifest into being.”

Mayoi smiled, her face so innocent, her black hair slowly flowing.

“Don’t move for a moment, Mistress Akari.”

“Huh?”

As Akari looked at Tomohito in surprise, Mayoi clapped her hands once.

“As I will it, so be it!”

Mayoi’s clear voice rang out, and the air in the room seemed to undulate.

Everything began to whirl past her eyes, as if she were watching the scenery go by from the window of a steam train. Akari stumbled, her head spinning, but Tomohito held her steady. While this was happening, the Kotogatari lay open, pages unmoving.

The peeling walls were unpeeling, and the haphazard hallways were straightening themselves. Ornaments and paintings were leaping to take their proper place on walls and shelves. The junk in the hallway lifted into the air and zoomed off elsewhere. This power…it must be how Mayoi had managed to toy with Akari yesterday.

Then the storm of refurbishing and redecorating was over as suddenly as it had begun.

The surroundings were completely transformed. The positioning of windows and doorways now made sense. The walls of the hallway were now a serene cream color, offset by dark wood beams. And tasteful light fixtures sparkled on the ceilings. Presumably, the entire house had received the Mayoi makeover treatment.

Akari looked around her in wonder. The house looked so different with the ill-fitting, tacked-on traditional Japanese alterations removed. Then Mayoi spoke.

“I made it resemble the Western houses I like most from what I’ve seen in picture books.”

“…Mayoi?”

Blushing with quiet pride, Mayoi herself had changed too.

So much so that Akari barely recognized her.

She still wore her black long-sleeved kimono, but in addition to the lacy sleeves and collar, it now boasted a puffy skirt. Her little feet were clad in white socks, with shiny Western-style patent leather shoes. Her once-long black hair was now bobbed in a modern short haircut that only just covered her ears. Mayoi was still beaming proudly, pointing her toes in her new shoes and shaking her head so that the short hair banged against her cheeks.

“I’ve tidied the bathroom and bedrooms too. And I stored the other things in the storeroom. Does it please you? I included all the things I like. Does it feel comfortable?”

Mayoi’s expression had grown anxious, but Akari gave her a big smile.

She’d been shocked by the transformation, but Mayoi’s alterations suited the little girl’s style perfectly.

“Yes, I love it. It’s a warm and happy house, just like how your Kotogatari describes it.”

Mayoi’s face lit up like a beautiful flower bursting into bloom, and Akari gazed back at her for a few moments, utterly charmed. Then she realized she was staring, and snapped out of it.

“…This is a Western-style house, isn’t it? Then I suppose I had better be wearing shoes as well!”

As Akari headed to the entrance hall for her boots, Mayoi came trotting alongside her.

“Mistress, these floors are all right to walk on even without shoes. They’re waxed and polished. You prefer not to wear shoes indoors, isn’t that right?”

“You made the floors like that, just for me?”

Mayoi nodded.

Truthfully, Akari had a hang-up about wearing shoes indoors. She felt pleased to have clean floors to walk on in her socks for the first time since she’d come to the house. She couldn’t believe Mayoi had noticed that about her and accommodated her preferences!

Filled with affection, Akari reached out and softly stroked her stylish bobbed hair.

“Thank you, Mayoi.”

The spirit gazed up at Akari, smiling a toothy smile that made Akari’s heart positively melt. But just then Tomohito took hold of Mayoi’s shoulder and tried to yank her away.

“Stop clinging to Mistress Akari!”

“Won’t! She’s MY mistress now too!”

Akari blinked as the girl clung to her kimono.

“Mayoi, I’m just the custodian, okay?”

“You won’t be my mistress?”

Mayoi sounded so sad, her little fists clenching the kimono fabric. Ah, dang it, Akari thought.

“I’ll make it a real good house! Please stay here!”

“All… All right, then. For now.”

“Mistress Akariiii…”

Tomohito whined her name, distraught, but Akari ignored him and let Mayoi take her hand to show her around the rest of the house.

The home was now completely in the Western style, with the essential facilities ergonomically designed to allow for multiple guest rooms on the second floor and a good portion of the ground floor.

“We’ll need plenty of rooms in the future when our number of companions grows, you see.”

Akari didn’t really get what Mayoi meant by that, but she was happy to take ownership of the master bedroom on the second floor and finally get out of that library shrine room.

∗∗∗

AFTER she’d finished arranging her belongings in her new room, Akari took a breather.

Mayoi had transported her things to the room for her, but Akari had taken charge of arranging them to her own preferences.

The room was very large, and Akari felt a little bit anxious having this much space. Mayoi had done a great job with it, though, and the view from the window was of the department stores in town. It felt very modern, and very cozy.

The house had been put to rights, but the garden and the rest of the grounds still needed a lot of work.

Akari was almost done with her break when she heard a knock on the door.

She opened it to find Tomohito standing there, his nice three-piece suit looking a little disheveled.

“Mistress Akari, I’ve finished tidying up downstairs.”

“Good job. But why do you look like such a mess?”

“Mayoi and I were negotiating the division of labor… I’m afraid I lost half of the cooking duties to her.”

Akari couldn’t imagine why that would have messed up his suit like that. But as she looked at Tomohito standing there vibrating with frustration, she decided she didn’t want to bother asking.

And Tomohito didn’t seem about to elaborate either.

“Mayoi has already prepared today’s lunch. Would you come down?”

“Sure. But before that, Tomohito…”

Akari was curious to see what Mayoi had whipped up for lunch, but she needed to talk to Tomohito about something important first.

“You chased all those other Narrators out for Mayoi’s sake, didn’t you?”

His light-brown eyes blinked several times. Akari couldn’t help being struck all over again by the handsomeness of his features, but she carried on.

“From what I read in the journals, those Narrators were extremely irritated. Talking about various…interferences…”

“…Many of the Kotogatari in our collection contain Kotogami with…idiosyncratic personalities…”

“Actually, I recall some choice journal passages: ‘Why won’t that Kotogami do what I tell him to?’ ‘Why did I get recalled from duty? I haven’t even had the chance to make my report yet.’ And so on. A lot of entries complaining about a certain Kotogami. You know what I think? All these Narrator reassignments, they were a result of you whispering tales in Munakata’s ear about their incompetence. Am I wrong?”

Tomohito’s eyes grew wider as Akari reeled off the sections of the journals she’d memorized. She’d guessed from their conversations that Tomohito and Munakata had that kind of setup going on, but his reaction just then confirmed her suspicions.

“You memorized the journals?”

“Just the complaints, of which there were a lot. And I’ve got a good idea now that this Bookhouse comes with some serious baggage attached.”

“It’s true, there’s a lot I’ve left out… But…didn’t you believe me when I said I did nothing to help Mayoi when those Narrators were here?”

“No, not for a second. Not after seeing how mad she was when she thought you were betraying her, bringing a stranger into the house. Mayoi’s smart. Smart enough to know how cute she is. And smart enough to get mad when she thinks the one person who always had her back has turned on her.”

“I see. So then, what is the problem? I seem to have done something to displease you, but I don’t know what it is.”

Tomohito hung his head miserably and Akari blinked, taken aback. He looked stricken, as if devastated to have angered her. His aura of mystery had cracked.

“I’m not saying you’ve done anything wrong, only…why purposefully make yourself look like the bad guy?”

“That wasn’t my intention…”

Tomohito looked bewildered, as if he’d been unaware of his own actions.

It was true: he’d hadn’t lied, except by omission. But he’d intentionally phrased things in ways that obfuscated the truth. For all his fawning over Akari, he’d been keeping her at a distance. At least, that was the impression she got.

As a result, she started deliberating over how much of a distance to keep from him as well.

“So when you got out Mayoi’s Kotogatari and recommended her to me, you weren’t doing it for her benefit?”

“No, I simply thought she might be of some use to you.”

He obviously doted on Mayoi, and Akari was starting to wonder if he was just using her to help heal the little girl’s loneliness. But Tomohito had brushed the question off lightly.

He was gazing into space, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Perhaps I wanted Mayoi to also experience the happiness that comes from having one’s Kotogatari truly read and appreciated… Such a thing brings great joy to us Kotogami.”

“So someone read you and appreciated you once?”

“Oh yes… I was given the most splendid, most unique reading… But then…”

Tomohito’s lips curled into a happy smile, but Akari thought she could detect a hint of pain in his features.

She sighed, though, deciding it would be better not to read too much into a look.

At any rate, further digging at this point would be nothing more than a waste of time and energy. It was clear Tomohito meant to serve her well. That would have to do for now.

She did want to ask him exactly what kind of Kotogami he was, but she decided to shelve that one. It was interesting how differently Mayoi’s Kotogatari seemed to be written compared with his, but it was none of her concern. She wasn’t going to get herself involved. No, she was done interrogating him.

As she walked past, she placed her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

“You did a good job against those Narrators, that’s all I’ll say. I think the way you handled them was pretty cool.”

“…!”

Those Narrators sounded like a stuck-up bunch of snobs to Akari, from what she’d read of their journals. In her opinion, Tomohito deserved a gold star for protecting Mayoi from them.

She headed into the corridor with a spring in her step, leaving Tomohito gawping behind her.

“Since the house is all done, I’ll be heading into town again after lunch. Accompany me.”

“…Certainly, Mistress Akari.”

Feeling half excited, half nervous to see what Mayoi had prepared for lunch, Akari headed downstairs.

Tomohito remained standing in the doorway.

“You truly do seem to have forgotten it all…and yet, you haven’t changed a bit.”

Akari didn’t hear Tomohito’s hushed murmuring, nor did she see the bittersweet look on his face.

Incidentally, she had to concede that the lunch Mayoi prepared was far more delicious than anything she could ever make…

∗∗∗

MAYOI walked silently along the moonlit Bookhouse corridors, twirling around every couple of steps.

As she moved, the long sleeves and full skirt of her ink-black kimono flared out, the lace trim fluttering. Mayoi had a huge smile on her face.

It wasn’t just because she was wearing an outfit she really liked. It was because she had been accepted by a human.

It wasn’t a Narrator who had come to the Bookhouse this time, but an ordinary young woman who called herself a custodian.

Mayoi, who had grown so tired of being mistreated by humans, could hardly believe it.

Her fellow resident, Tomohito, had let her be when she’d stopped caring for the house and had never said anything, not even when she’d ceased cleaning it altogether. She’d grown used to things the way they were. So the coming of the young woman had been a shock to the system.

First off, the most surprising thing of all was that Tomohito had brought the woman here in the first place. Tomohito had never shown any interest in Narrators, or indeed any inclination to learn anything about humans in general. She’d thought he was the same as her, having given up on humans almost completely, and finding out otherwise had felt like betrayal.

Mayoi had thought the woman looked quite impressive, actually, clomping about the house in her boots. But Mayoi had lashed out at her in pain. She regretted that now, a little bit. But the woman hadn’t turned her back on Mayoi.

“Please tell me about yourself, Mayoi…”

How happy those words had made her! How she had hungered to hear someone say that!

Ever since she’d been enshrined as a Mayoiga, Mayoi had continued to care for the house as she was commanded.

That, after all, was her reason for existing and had been so even before she’d become a Kotogami.

But a housekeeper wasn’t all she was. Even as a Kotogami, she had a story. A story recorded in the pages of her spirit tome.

She had so badly wanted to be recognized. To be seen as Mayoi, not just the Mayoiga category of Kotogami. And then Akari had arrived and noticed her. Unpretentiously, she’d read her Kotogatari. All to get to know her—to know Mayoi.

She was a Mayoiga spirit, the spirit of abandoned houses. But she was so much more than that too.

When she’d been enshrined in a Kotogatari volume and categorized as Mayoiga, she’d realized that humans love to take things at face value, never going deeper. But Mayoi still remembered how warm the touch of a human could be. How grateful they could be, for a job well done. She remembered how precious and lovely it was to be heard by them, to be answered by them…to be on the receiving end of their smiles.

So she wanted to believe the words of the woman…Akari.

What would make this new mistress happy? She’d told Mayoi to do as she liked, but Mayoi very much wanted to please her too. Nothing gave Mayoi greater joy than to please the humans who brought life and warmth to her household.

Akari seemed to like Western-style cooking. Perhaps next time she’d try cooking a different country’s cuisine. There were so many Mayoi wanted to try. The new mistress would surely let her. At least, she was pretty sure she would.

As Mayoi twirled and spun her way down the moonlit corridor, sleeves flaring out, a moonbeam slanting through the windows illuminated the form of the other resident Kotogami, Tomohito Yagyou.

His expression was blank, lacking the expressiveness of the daytime. But Mayoi wasn’t concerned. Over the past decade, she’d grown used to his empty looks.

Mayoi’s job was to keep the Bookhouse neat. Tomohito was a Kotogami who had been assigned to this Bookhouse. She didn’t need to know anything more than that.

It was none of her concern who Tomohito was or what his circumstances were.

But now that she’d met someone she could respect as her mistress, things were different.

“Tomohito.”

Perhaps he was surprised to be addressed by her. He turned to her, his brows slightly raised. Then he grimaced, as if pained.

Perhaps he was still sore over having half of his chores taken away by Mayoi earlier that day. But she had every right to take them. She’d been indentured to this house for far longer than he. She had years of experience stored up, and she wasn’t about to concede to him on matters of housekeeping.

But why did he care so much about serving Akari, anyway? It didn’t track with his previous indifferent handling of the Narrators. Mayoi wasn’t a bit concerned about the changes in him, but there was one thing she wanted to clarify.

“How long are you planning to serve her as your mistress?”

Tomohito blinked in surprise before quickly answering.

“I told you. Until she finds a peaceful and comfortable place in the world for herself.”

That wasn’t what Mayoi had wanted to know, but it was a satisfying enough answer for now.

“All right. Then I should do my best, to make it a nice house for her. So that she’ll decide she wants to stay.”

Akari had said she’d only be staying at the Bookhouse for a short amount of time. But she’d probably change her mind, if they could just make her feel at home. And after all, Akari had told Mayoi to do as she liked. Tomohito had brought Akari here, but as long as he didn’t plan to interfere, then Mayoi would, indeed, do as she liked.

“You know, I’ve always appreciated that determined spirit of yours.”

Tomohito had seemed somewhat anxious over whether Mayoi would get on board the Akari welcome train, but now he only nodded mildly. It was as if he was saying: Yes, good, that’s exactly what I want you to do. Mayoi puffed out her cheeks childishly. I was gonna anyway, she thought.

“As long as I have this body, I plan to serve Mistress Akari. That’s all I need.”

“Yeah, well…you seem to be getting on her nerves.”

Mayoi grinned slyly as her cutting remark made Tomohito’s mask of indifference slip. The woman, Akari, seemed to know well enough that Mayoi wasn’t a child, but she couldn’t help seeing her that way. It was clear she had tons more sympathy for the cute girl spirit than she did for Tomohito, who inhabited the form of a full-grown man.

But Mayoi was an old house spirit, not a little girl, and she had sharp powers of perception. Moreover, she planned to use every tool at her disposal to get closer to Akari. She had always been the spirit Mayoi, but now she was a Kotogami too. And she wanted nothing more than to be close to the one person who’d taken an interest in her, who’d read her Kotogatari for no other reason than to get to know her.

“I won’t let you keep her all to yourself, Tomohito. So there.”

Tomohito’s poker face suddenly melted away entirely, and he looked flustered and upset. Grinning with satisfaction, Mayoi floated off to the kitchen to plan tomorrow’s menu.