Chapter Four: Kotogatari: DemonSlayer

 

 

 

Chapter Four: Kotogatari: DemonSlayer

 

AFTER that, Akari lived a double life. Working every weekday and doing Bookhouse duties on the weekends. Around two weeks had passed since this new lifestyle had begun.

Tomohito hadn’t come to her office again, but all the female employees had been asking her about him, as well as some other employees she’d never even spoken to before. Akari was getting tired of shrugging off their questions, but she had to admit things were easier this way.

As for Mayoi and Tomohito’s relationship, well, it was much the same.

They often fought between each other over who got to attend to Akari’s needs, but their squabbles were proof of their closeness, so Akari let them be. She was also a little tired of trying to be a mediator. Mayoi had gotten more and more comfortable around her and had started coming to her for attention, which Akari found soothing. Also, the Bookhouse duties Akari was in charge of amounted to nothing more than keeping the books dusted.

Whenever she visited the library/shrine, she had this funny feeling that someone was watching her. But Tomohito had assured her that reading the books wasn’t part of her job description, and she was more than happy to leave them unread on their shelves.

Never do anything that’s not in your job description. That was Akari’s policy.

Mayoi and Tomohito had been keeping the house in order, and the long battle against the unruly weeds in the garden seemed to be drawing to a close. Overall, the living environment was quite pleasant. Or so Akari thought.

Of course, another issue soon arose.

“Ack, I had no idea the gas and electricity bills would be this high…”

Akari sat on the sofa in the living room, staring with dismay at the bills from the gas company and the electric company that had arrived at the turn of the month.

Beside her, Tomohito peeked at the bills, looking confused.

“You think that’s high? It seems less than usual to me.”

“Maybe it’s not so much for a big manor like this, but it’s five times what I was paying at my old place. I never even thought about it.”

Tomohito blinked at Akari as she heaved a sigh.

The six-tatami-mat room Akari had rented had one electric light, a gas stove, and a simple sink. The toilets were communal, and the nearby public bathhouse sufficed for bathing. That was a fairly normal setup for workers in the capital, and Akari had never thought anything of it. She’d just paid the monthly maintenance fees.

She was only one tenant, but this was a big house, full of electric lights. Akari had also succumbed to the temptation of taking a nightly bath. Even with her efforts to recycle the bath water for the laundry, the water bill was sky-high.

And yet, having a bathtub all to herself was such a treat, and something Akari refused to forego.

“And look at how much we’re spending on food… Mayoi’s Western dishes are so delicious, I can’t help indulging. But the ingredients cost so much!”

“I’m so sorry, Mistress.”

Mayoi had appeared from somewhere and now stood with her head hanging. Akari realized she’d spoken too harshly and quickly tried to comfort the girl.

“You mustn’t apologize, Mayoi. I couldn’t resist and kept asking you to make expensive Western dishes. But it’s all right. We’ve already decided to focus on Japanese food for a bit. The only problem is…I’m not sure how I’m going to pay these utility bills.”

As she stroked the girl’s bobbed hair reassuringly, Akari frowned at her housekeeping ledger.

The advance from Munakata had been spent. She’d been busy at work, and she’d handed her salary over to Tomohito and Mayoi to buy new light bulbs, cloths, and other sundries for the upkeep of the house.

She’d wanted to tuck the compensation money away for the future, but she’d had no choice but to spend it on necessities. Also, Mayoi had been desperate to win Akari’s favor with food, so a month’s worth of grocery budget had also vanished into the ether.

The easy life of the past few weeks had come with an expiry date. Akari was going to have to come up with something if she wanted to save money.

Tomohito cleared his throat nervously.

“Um, I think it would be best if the two of us stopped eating food with you at meal times.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s not that much more expensive to feed three than it is to feed one. Anyway, I don’t want to eat alone. I’d appreciate it if you’d continue to join me for meals.”

“Me too? I can eat too?”

“Of course, Mayoi. And we can’t miss out on our daily afternoon snack, now can we?”

Akari winked. Yes, snack time was another recent pleasure she was unwilling to relinquish. Mayoi beamed back at her. Continuing to stroke the girl’s glossy hair, she suddenly thought of something else.

“Don’t the two of you need to replenish energy somehow? Like humans do by eating food?”

“Being read is what feeds me, Mistress.”

Tomohito nodded in agreement with Mayoi.

“Being enshrined in a Kotogatari is what sustains us, mostly. But a Narrator’s reading is what gives us the power to use our abilities. Being read every now and again is what nourishes us.”

In other words, read, Akari thought. Her mind went again to the silent stacks of Kotogatari books in the library and she felt her blood run cold.

“All the Kotogatari in our collection have been tended to by Munakata, so there is no need to bother about that. Only Kotogami that are regularly manifested need regular upkeep. You have already given Mayoi a thorough reading of late, Mistress, so there is nothing to worry about at all.”

“Huh.”

“I’m full of life, Mistress!”

Akari smiled as Mayoi made a fist and flexed her skinny arm.

Tomohito was in charge of the Bookhouse, so if he said it was all right, then surely it was. All Akari had to do was focus on getting by until payday. It was going to eat into her own salary, but she couldn’t give up the nightly baths. Darn this luxury she’d become accustomed to!

“Hmm, since we’ve got that big garden, maybe we could keep down food costs by growing our own vegetables? Oh, but perhaps I’d better not mess around with it. After all, I won’t be here for long…”

“If you’d like, it might be nice for you to do a touch of gardening… I’ve managed to clear the overgrowth somewhat, but there is further work to be done.”

“You want to tend the garden, Mistress? You really do?!”

Akari smiled as Mayoi bounced up and down on her toes. Slapping her knees, Akari rose to get on with the day’s plans, but just then Mayoi paused and turned in the direction of the front door.

“We have a visitor.”

What? thought Akari as someone knocked loudly using the door knocker.

When Akari and Tomohito went to open the front door, they found a familiar face outside.

“Mr. Munakata!”

“Hello. How are we getting along?” Munakata raised a lazy hand in greeting, looking as disheveled and lackluster as ever.

Akari was surprised by Munakata’s sudden appearance following his radio silence of late. Then, from behind her, an angelic voice rang out.

“Munakata, you old scruff. You never change, do you?”

Mayoi was standing beside Akari now, arms firmly crossed in her black kimono, the lace sleeves flapping. She looked like a tiny child, but her haughty attitude was at odds with her cute appearance.

“…Mayoi?!”

“No more than you do, strutting about your house. It’s the only place you’ve got any guts.”

Akari had gasped when Mayoi sassed him, but Munakata didn’t seem particularly bothered.

“How dare you speak ill of my master?”

Kuroe, the girl with the dog ears, was standing at Munakata’s side. She jutted her face forward menacingly as she spoke. She, too, was wearing a black kimono, but it wasn’t gorgeous like Mayoi’s. It looked more like a mourning dress.

Kuroe drew back her lips in a snarl, exposing her canine teeth. But Mayoi was unbothered. Instead, she puffed out her tiny chest pridefully.

“It’s the job of a guardian spirit to protect their master. Not to follow his every command like you, you pandering pooch.”

“Watch your words, you sniveling shut-in! You’ve never satisfied any master of yours in your life!”

“I’m a house spirit, duh. Of course I stay in. And I’ve got a mistress of my own now as well!”

“What, me?!”

Kuroe looked Akari up and down as Mayoi clung to Akari’s legs in a bear hug. Through Kuroe’s black hair, her ears seemed to flatten, and her tail seemed to straighten in shock.

Well, this was awkward. I have to say something, Akari thought.

“Um, sorry for Mayoi’s rudeness.”

“My mistress is a real good reader!”

“I won’t let you get away with sassing my master!”

“Pfffffft!”

Mayoi made a gleeful farting sound with her mouth in Kuroe’s direction. Then she disappeared as if to say, Welp, my job’s done here.

Akari looked on in sympathy as Kuroe stood there trembling with anger. Munakata, who had been silently observing Akari, spoke next.

“Miss Mitsukuri…you saw Kuroe just now, right?”

“Um, yes, but Mayoi was very rude to her first. Please…don’t be harsh on Kuroe later.”

Yes, she saw Kuroe… She was standing right there talking, after all, wasn’t she? Akari didn’t know what Munakata meant. At a loss for what to say, she’d ended up apologizing for Mayoi’s naughtiness again. But suddenly, Munakata’s interest seemed to be drawn elsewhere.

“So Mayoi’s showing herself these days, I see. And I’m surprised she managed to tidy up the old storage house.”

“Yes…I suppose… So this IS a storage house after all…”

Remembering how Munakata had told her nothing about the state of the house, she narrowed her eyes at him, scowling. But Munakata seemed unconcerned.

“If you’d asked for help with tidying up, I would have sent someone. I just didn’t want to upset Mayoi. But this old place really needed sorting out. Thanks for taking care of it.”

Akari’s face reddened. Jerk!

He didn’t want to upset Mayoi? Now she couldn’t say anything back. And it was odd… Munakata looked strangely surprised, even impressed with her. But why?

The next moment, though, his face soured. He was looking at Tomohito, who was wearing a triumphant expression.

“I told you Mistress Akari is amazing. Do you get it now, Munakata?”

“Don’t lecture me.”

Munakata looked deep in thought about something, which intrigued Akari for a moment, but she shrugged it off. This conversation was going nowhere.

“So what’s your business here, Mr. Munakata?”

“I wanted to see how things were going at the Bookhouse. And also, I think I may have a job for you. How about earning some extra pocket money?”

“All right, I’m interested. Tomohito, can you make some tea?”

“Certainly, Mistress.”

“Oh good, you’ve remembered your manners at last.”

Drawling sardonically, Munakata stepped inside at Akari’s invitation. She gave him a patronizing smile of her own as he crossed the threshold.

∗∗∗

AFTER Munakata left, Akari began cheerfully clearing away the teacups. She had a paying job that coming weekend. She’d been so excited, she’d even thrown caution to the wind and served rice crackers with the tea.

“Mistress Akari, are you really going to take on the job?”

“I am. It doesn’t seem dangerous, and I want the pay.”

“But helping to curate a literary collection…?”

Tomohito looked so concerned, it almost put a damper on Akari’s enthusiasm. She thought back over Munakata’s job request again.

Basically, Munakata had tasked her with retrieving Kotogatari from a private residence in the city.

Apparently, high-class nobles were in the habit of collecting Kotogatari that housed the spirits of yokai as lucky talismans of sorts. In fact, Kotogatari could be found among the books of many a private collector. Households of a certain social status often employed Narrators to come and check their libraries when the time came to sell old books, just to make sure there weren’t any Kotogatari among the mix. Munakata wanted Akari to help with this sort of job.

“There really is a shortage of manpower with the Narrators, isn’t there, if they need a layperson like me to help.”

“There have been a lot of yokai rampages recently. The Narrators are busy rounding them up. But even so, to make use of you this way is just…”

Tomohito trailed off, looking anxious. Akari had filled him in on the job description once Munakata had left, but Tomohito didn’t seem supportive at all.

Munakata had explained to her that all she’d need to do is go through the books and look for any Kotogatari—nothing dangerous at all. Akari had said yes at once, but looking at Tomohito now, she was wondering whether she’d made a mistake.

“Tomohito…is retrieving Kotogatari really so dangerous?”

“No, Munakata’s explanation was accurate. And it’s rare for any private collector to have possession of a Kotogatari that houses a dangerous yokai. Even if that was the case, professional Narrators would be called in immediately. You wouldn’t be in any peril. At least, that’s my guess.”

“So what’s the problem? You think I’m incapable of curating Kotogatari, is that it?”

Akari was relieved, but the relief gave way to indignation. Eyes widening, Tomohito rapidly shook his head.

“Never would I even think such a thing! You are highly capable, Mistress, and you have a natural gift for recognizing Kotogami! My only concern is that perhaps any Kotogami retrieved would become too attached to you. I should hate for an uncouth spirit to become a nuisance to you!”

Akari rolled her eyes internally as Tomohito stumbled over his words, desperate to appease her.

Akari had just learned that, sometimes, Kotogami could manifest themselves as noncorporeal spirits, like ghosts, and humans who could see them in this state were said to have “the knack” to identify Kotogami. It seemed that Kuroe, the dog spirit who had snarled at Mayoi from the front step, had appeared in ghost form today. Apparently, Munakata had brought her along in ghost form on purpose to test whether Akari could see her.

As he explained it, Munakata guessed that Akari had awoken this ability by living in close quarters with Kotogami over the past few weeks.

“That’s not going to happen. I’m not actually going to read any of the Kotogatari; I’m just going to sort through the books. Nothing strange is going to happen at all.”

“But even so… Oh…all right. I understand. It might actually be a convenient opportunity.”

Suddenly, the fight seemed to go out of Tomohito.

“But still, there is always a slight risk of danger. Would you agree to bring a different Kotogami with you to act as a bodyguard?”

“A different Kotogami? Do we need to go that far?”

Akari frowned. Surely he was overreacting? But Tomohito doubled down.

“Kotogatari housed in private collections are rarely well taken care of, and if there are any spirits that require re-enshrinement, well, that could be dangerous.”

“But I…”

“There is no need for you to narrate, I assure you. A Narrator’s ‘narration’ is generally only required when making use of a Kotogami’s powers. But to merely manifest the presence of a bodyguard, or should I say spirit guard, you will only need to call them forth.”

“That sounds intimidating enough!”

Akari tipped her head to one side in trepidation. But Tomohito seemed so insistent.

“Can’t you be my bodyguard? I sort of assumed you’d come with me anyway.”

After all, hadn’t he kicked that Raiju clean into the side of a building? Surely he was more than strong enough to act as her bodyguard.

But Tomohito looked conflicted and apologetic.

“I shall accompany you, of course, but I won’t be able to protect you if the worst happens. And if there is another Narrator there, I may not be able to protect you by myself…”

“Oh, I see…”

Tomohito’s earnestness had started to work on her. Still, she was surprised he wasn’t jumping at the chance to help, like he usually was. Maybe she did need another Kotogami. She didn’t like it, but that extra money was too tempting.

“All right. But I have no idea which Kotogami to call on.”

“Thank you, Mistress! I have a recommendation, so let us go to the library at once!”

“What, right now?”

Tomohito grabbed the tea tray from her hands, looking greatly relieved as Akari blinked at him.

“Yes! Don’t you want to get to know the Kotogami in question first, rather than bringing along an unknown entity on the day of the job? Luckily, you have a full week to get acquainted and become firm friends! …Mayoi, the teacups.”

“On it. Off you go, Mistress!”

“Oh, all right, then.”

Mayoi had appeared from somewhere and now waved her off as Akari turned to reluctantly follow a decidedly chipper Tomohito to the library shrine.

Filled with enshrined spirits, the room had the same peaceful, divine atmosphere as ever. Akari had insisted on giving it a thorough cleaning as well. She wouldn’t have felt right about leaving it dirty.

Looking around at the bookshelves, Akari wondered how she’d ever managed to sleep in here. Finally, she turned to Tomohito.

“So what should I do? Which one should I choose?”

Please let it be the least annoying one possible, Akari thought. Tomohito pointed to a bookshelf on the right, where a Kotogatari tome sat taking up considerable space.

“This is the one you should awaken for this occasion. Please stand in front of the bookshelf, then clap twice, bow once, and remove the Kotogatari from the shelf.”

Akari stood in front of that section of shelving, noting the presence of the traditional shrine adornments—the thick rope garlands and the white zigzag-shaped Shinto ritual paper slips. As instructed, she clapped twice and bowed once. All of a sudden, the air in the room seemed to hum, and Akari could feel the divine energy. Carefully, she reached out toward the shelf.

The shelf was above Akari’s eyeline, so she couldn’t get a good look at the book’s spine as she grabbed it.

Pulling the book off the shelf, she turned it over in her hands. It was bound in the classical Japanese style, its cover made of gray-blue washi paper that had been reinforced. It’s different from Mayoi’s Kotogatari, Akari noted. It was a thick and somewhat weighty tome.

“This is the account of the deeds of a certain samurai warrior—” Tomohito started.

“The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima!” Akari interjected.

“Oh…you know of him? Of course, he is the subject of many a Kabuki play and joruri dramatic recitation, but I thought you hated storytelling?”

Ah, darn it, Akari thought as Tomohito’s eyes widened.

Heart pounding, Akari pasted on a nonchalant expression.

“I’ve been educated, you know. I learned about culture and history at school, and I’m actually rather well acquainted with the tale of Kansuke Mishima.”

“I see. I didn’t realize that. Well, a Kotogami’s strength and abilities are basically defined by the records written down in their Kotogatari. Historical accuracy doesn’t really have a great deal to do with it, you see.”

Akari was relieved that Tomohito had accepted her explanation, but she wasn’t sure she understood what he was saying.

“Stories, folklore told by many tongues, they have a special kind of power; I can appreciate that. I figured that most Kotogatari are written based on urban folktales. And Kotogatari are used as a way of sealing away the dangerous yokai and other beasts, right?”

“Yes. And sometimes even humans turn into vengeful yokai or other spirits when they hold strong grudges. Some may even become…demons.”

“Yikes, that sounds terrible.”

As Akari leaned back in distaste, Tomohito tilted his head to one side.

“Really? Well, Kotogatari were created to seal away Aratama—violent spirits—for safety. And to seal away humans who became twisted and turned into vengeful ghosts. Before Kotogatari existed, people even thought the emperor was a kind of god and worshipped him as if he were one, you know.”

“Ah yes. But even so…”

“Also, by making copies of Kotogatari that house powerful Kotogami, it’s possible to divide the spirit among multiple volumes. Although these copies tend to vary in their interpretation and as such tend to be much weaker…”

Akari nodded. In Kansuke Mishima’s case, that made sense. Even if his achievements and crimes had happened hundreds of years ago, who wouldn’t want a piece of that power?

“But what would be the point of copying an enshrined entity?”

“Mainly, to oppose demonic yokai. Thus, we can use the power of a Kotogatari in the form of a split spirit.”

“So in other words, to use as a weapon.”

Tomohito fell silent, his expression impossible to read.

Akari was going to take that as a yes. She sighed, stroking the gray-blue cover. It felt so nice and smooth beneath her fingertips.

“To call forth the spirit, you just need to read the name out loud, as you did with Mayoi’s Kotogatari.”

Akari nodded and took a deep breath before flipping the book open.

“The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima.”

A gray-blue ribbon of energy began to rise from the open pages.

This was different from how it had been with Tomohito or Mayoi. As she watched, the ribbon slowly twined around itself to form the shape of a human.

Akari blinked in surprise at the size of the figure before her. At last, the gray-blue ribbon faded away, leaving behind a virile-looking man in his midthirties standing there.

He was about Tomohito’s height, wearing an unstylish gray-green casual kimono. His hair was slicked back in a high ponytail, the tail part wild and bushy. At his belt, he wore a samurai sword, the handle obviously well-worn with use.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly felt heavy—perhaps due to the man’s stern expression and rugged exterior.

Kansuke Mishima slowly opened his large, sharp-looking eyes and…yawned.

“Ahhh! I slept so well.”

Akari blinked at him, her previous anxiety turning into confusion. Unbothered, Kansuke began to scratch his belly in an uncouth manner. In that moment, he went from being an impressive and somewhat oppressive figure to looking like a lazy slob.

Akari was shocked by this sudden transformation. Also…gross.

“You’re Kansuke Mishima?”

“That’s me. Hello there, girly.”

He leered at Akari, eyebrow rising suggestively. But before she could react, Tomohito intervened.

“Good morning, Kansuke.”

“Ah, Tomohito. It’s a rare thing for you to call on me, is it not? I hope it’s not going to rain blood tomorrow.”

“I have a job for you. This coming weekend, I want you to act as a bodyguard for Mistress Akari here. You’re the best spirit for the job.”

Tomohito explained the situation in a calm voice despite Kansuke’s boorish manner.

He had personally recommended Kansuke for the job, so she’d been expecting someone more…put together. He seemed friendly enough, but there was also something intense about him…

Kansuke didn’t seem to notice her staring, however. He removed his hand from inside his kimono where he’d been scratching himself and began to rub his jaw thoughtfully.

“All right. I understand the situation.”

“It’s wonderful to be working with you. I’m Akari Mitsukuri.”

“…I haven’t been out in the real world for a while. So I’m not opposed to helping you. Just one condition. No more getting changed in front of me, agreed?”

Akari paused mid-bow. She’d felt the need to introduce herself the same way she would if she met anyone new, spirit or human alike. But Kansuke had responded by saying something her brain couldn’t process at first. What?

“In front of…you?”

“We Kotogami can still process what’s going on around us to some extent, even while sealed inside our Kotogatari. We all got a pretty good view. You don’t have much meat on your bones, do you?”

Kansuke grinned, and Akari felt the blood rush to her cheeks as understanding dawned.

Shocked, she looked around at the shelves. Apart from a few empty spaces, they were crammed with Kotogatari tomes housing sleeping Kotogami. The first night in the Bookhouse, Akari had slept there. Changed clothes there. More than once.

She’d chased Tomohito out for privacy, but if the Kotogami had been watching her from those books…

A lot of things were starting to make sense now. Mayoi seemed to know Akari’s name even before she’d summoned her, and she’d also seemed to be more or less aware of what Akari had been doing there…

And all those times when Tomohito suddenly materialized to jump in and help her with something…she’d been carrying the bookbag with his Kotogatari inside at the time.

If Kotogami were aware of the environment outside of their Kotogatari, then that would explain so much.

Akari felt as if her cheeks were going to burst into flames. She was on the verge of apoplexy.

But this was her fault for not bothering to find out more about Kotogatari, she figured. She could have kicked herself. And how embarrassing to have Kansuke tease her that way! It was easier to turn her anger outward.

“Mistress Akari? Is something wrong?”

Akari looked up at Tomohito, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Is something wrong? What do you think, MISTER Yagyou?”

“Ack! Mistress Akari?!”

“Stay away from me for a while. I’ll ask Mayoi to tend to my room and meals.”

“But that’s horribly cruel! I—”

“Is it? Is it really? Why don’t you take a good look back over what you’ve done?”

As Akari fixed a trembling Tomohito with a look that could curdle milk and strip paint, Kansuke laughed throatily and walked past her.

“Girly, take me and use me as you will.”

He ambled out of the room, chuckling to himself. Akari thought about following him, but first she needed to deal with Tomohito. Harshly.

∗∗∗

A week had passed in a flash since Akari summoned the Kotogami Kansuke Mishima.

As punishment for not properly explaining about Kotogatari books, Akari had stayed mad at Tomihito for a full twenty-four hours. Eventually, though, being addressed as “Mister” broke him and he’d started bawling for real. She’d relented then.

She had to admit she’d never really bothered to find out more about Kotogatari herself, so maybe she was partially at fault. But she stuck to her original policy. She wasn’t going to get too deeply involved.

Munakata had sent over a handbook on Kotogatari retrieval, and after work each day, Akari spent the evenings poring over it, trying to learn all she could.

“Once manifested, a Kotogami can use its powers to affect the real world, and it can repeat behaviors recorded in its Kotogatari. Once a narration has occurred, the Kotogami falls under the influence of its Narrator and will answer to no other.”

“Isn’t there some way to stop it?”

“Apart from waiting until the power of the narration spell has run its course, one could knock the Narrator unconscious, thus breaking the spell. Or one could seize hold of the physical Kotogatari volume and perform a re-narration to highjack command from the original Narrator.”

“Mayoi, is all this true?”

“It’s true, Mistress.”

The three of them sat together, Mayoi by Akari’s side and Tomohito across from them. When Akari turned to Mayoi for corroboration, Tomohito looked extremely sad.

But Akari ignored him, books and materials spread out in front of her. She questioned Mayoi instead of him.

“So Kotogami can only be seen by normal humans when they’ve been manifested?”

“Inside the book repositories, like this Bookhouse, they can be seen by regular humans, and they can also freely move about.”

“A book repository is sort of like sacred ground for spirits, did I get that right?”

“Yes. We can’t go outside, but we can eat.”

“I see… But none of the Kotogami housed in this Bookhouse have appeared…”

Mayoi puffed up her chest proudly. “The spirits enshrined on the Sacred Bookshelves can’t come out unless a Narrator reads them first.”

“But, Mayoi, you came when called. I didn’t have to read your Kotogatari. Why?”

“I’m different. This house and I are connected. After all, how can I serve the master of the house from inside my book?”

Akari recalled how Mayoi had appeared all by herself in the house that first day. So Mayoi was different from the other Kotogami after all.

Mayoi swung her legs and giggled, seeming very pleased with herself.

Incidentally, the reason why Akari was studying in the dining room was because no one had replaced the busted light bulb in the study.

Pencil scratching across the page, Akari smiled to see how many notes she’d made already. Progress! Just then the door opened and she looked up.

Kansuke walked into the dining room as Tomohito fixed him with a hostile scowl.

“Ah, hello, girly. So you’re home, then. Work, work, work. Good for you.”

“Hello, Kansuke. Yes, I have to work to eat. That’s how I buy food. Hey, hold on… Are you drunk?”

“Ah yes, it’s been a day-drinking kinda day. Thanks to you, I finally got to taste alcohol again after so long.”

“But I didn’t buy any booze while shopping today…”

Akari frowned at Kansuke’s ruddy-cheeked face, and all of a sudden Mayoi gasped, jumped up, and ran to the kitchen. She soon returned with a tearful expression.

“The cooking sake is all gone!”

“You drank…the cooking sake?!”

Akari’s jaw dropped, but Kansuke just shrugged.

“You bought the good kind. Better to drink it before it’s past its peak. It was delish.”

“Wait, what’s that in your mouth? Is that…the dried squid I bought for my snack time?”

“You’ve got strange taste, girly. Dried squid’s an old fart’s snack.”

Kansuke grinned as he teased her, chewing on the dried squid. Akari glared at him.

This kind of thing had been happening all week.

But before she could say anything else, Tomohito got to his feet and leaped at Kansuke.

“Kansuke, how dare you drain our finances?! Akari is too kind, but you’ve taken advantage! Exactly how many bottles of booze have you sunk this week?!”

“How am I supposed to remember? Everything was delicious, though. I’m not picky.”

“So you don’t mind if I only buy the cheapest stuff from now on?”

“Whoa, let’s not go that far.”

Kansuke whipped his head around to look at Akari, mild alarm in his eyes.

Akari got it, though. She had a taste for the finer things in life herself, when such things were available. But even as she nodded, Tomohito turned on her.

“You can’t possibly be fine with this, Mistress Akari! Isn’t the only reason you took that job tomorrow because of money?”

“Well, Kansuke has agreed to accompany me. I at least owe him a drink.”

Right. Never work for free—wasn’t that Akari’s policy, after all?

As far as she could tell, Kansuke Mishima was nothing more than your typical drunkard.

“All right, I’ll take on this bodyguarding job. But I won’t work for free.”

After she’d summoned him and explained what she wanted him to do, Kansuke had immediately requested to receive his pay in alcohol.

Akari had agreed, and ever since then, he’d been following a predictable daily pattern. He’d wake up and sink some booze, calling it “hair of the dog,” then he’d crash around noon, saying his hangover had finally caught up to him. Then in the evening he’d be back at it for what he called “happy hour,” which somehow lasted deep into the night. If left to his own devices, he’d drain an entire bottle of strong shochu a day. Akari’s wallet was starting to feel the strain.

Kotogami or not, she couldn’t ask him to work for free, so Akari had started picking up alchohol on her way home from work each day.

Seeing him in this drunken state, though, Akari was starting to entertain doubts about his ability to act as a competent bodyguard for her on the day in question.

She was also embarrassed because the old fellow from the local alcohol shop had started to recognize her. That thought made her cringe as Tomohito continued doggedly.

“Also, Kansuke, while it’s true that Akari has some old-fashioned, some may say lowbrow, tastes, that’s only part of her charm!”

“Tomohito. Shut up.”

“Mistress?!”

Tomohito’s jaw flopped as Akari shot him a frosty glare.

Akari still liked to think of herself as a young woman, so while she could accept being called old-fashioned, lowbrow was a step too far. Dried squid might be an “old fart’s” snack, but it was one of her firm favorites.

Kansuke watched the two of them with an interested expression before pulling out the chair opposite Akari and pouring himself another cup. From the folds of his kimono he pulled out the rest of Akari’s personal dried squid snack stash.

Akari twitched as Kansuke scrunched up his face and smacked his lips in appreciation. Yes, dried squid was delicious.

It was after dinner, but there was always room for snacks. Kansuke grinned and raised his sake cup temptingly.

“Join me for a drink, girly?”

“No. I have work to do tomorrow.”

“Ah, I’d almost forgotten.”

Kansuke displayed not one scrap of respect for Akari’s position as mistress of the household. Yet Akari found it impossible to dislike him, especially seeing the earnest enjoyment he took in the alcohol she provided.

As she watched him idly, Kansuke tipped back his cupful of sake and turned to her.

“Girly, no one’s going to pay you for studying that stuff. Just head on up to bed.”

“How dare you belittle Akari’s scholarly pursuits?!”

Tomohito wasn’t about to let that slide, and he snarled at Kansuke. Mayoi, too, shot him a nasty glare. Despite the tension in the air, Kansuke seemed supremely unbothered.

Kansuke merely rolled his sake cup between his fingers, gazing at Akari. She stared back.

“…You’re right. I’ll retire upstairs in a moment. You’ll be accompanying me for sure tomorrow, yes?”

“Well, you’ve certainly provided some decent booze. So, yes. I’ll work for you. At least until I’ve earned what I’ve already drunk.”

“Kansuke.”

Kansuke ignored Tomohito’s growl and got to his feet, patting the other man casually on the shoulder on his way out of the room.

Tomohito watched him go, trembling with rage. Then he turned back to Akari and bowed his head low.

“Mistress Akari, I am so sorry I recommended such a man to you. It was entirely my mistake. I think that perhaps I had better accompany you alone after all.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering: why did you suggest him in the first place?”

Tomohito paused for a moment, as if unprepared for such a question.

“Simply because, well…he’s strong.”

Tomohito chose his words carefully, as if reluctant to explain but finding himself unable to lie to her.

“There are many Kotogatari in the DemonSlayer category, but few have actually slain a real demon. The tales written in our records are enough to give us much power, but the more truth there is to the tales, the stronger we are. And Kansuke Mishima is one of the few whose slaying of demons is an actual historical fact.”

“Yes, I know the tales. They called him the DemonChaser. Apparently, his feudal lord once tasked him with hunting down a Nue and retrieving the women it stole. The sword he wielded was even known as Narugami’s Fury because he also used it to cut down not only a thundergod—or Narugami demon—who was demanding the sacrifice of children to end a drought, but also the very thunderbolts it conjured.”

Demons had power enough to rival even those of the gods, and they delighted in destruction. They were cruel and inhuman, taking delight in entering the homes of innocents and laying waste to everything they saw.

The Narugami demon Akari referenced had destroyed ten villages and one entire city and was said to feast upon the livers of human babies.

But the warrior Kansuke Mishima had pursued the demon without hesitation and cut it down with his sword.

“Yes. He is a splendid warrior. So much so that he doesn’t even need a Narrator, you might say. There isn’t a demon, spirit, or yokai he can’t handle. So I can think of no better bodyguard for you on this mission.”

“Okay, but what about the more…unsavory stuff he was supposed to have done? If all that’s written down in his Kotogatari too, then who’s to say he won’t end up going rogue on me?”

Tomohito hesitated, but Akari plowed on.

“Kansuke Mishima is famous for being a DemonSlayer, yes, but he’s infamous for something else. You know what I’m referring to. And yet despite that, you recommended him to me?”

“I recommended him precisely because you refuse to read any Kotogatari. He’s strong enough, even without being read aloud. In fact, a reading might even hinder his abilities.”

“He has a powerful ability to make alcohol disappear, I’ll give him that.”

“Indeed, that is, ah, a weakness. But the last time he and I came face-to-face, he was very different…”

Tomohito chewed his lip for a few seconds before rallying and continuing.

“Sometimes a Kotogami’s dark past is included in the Kotogatari records on purpose so humans can use those powers to their advantage. But more often, the problematic parts are intentionally omitted from the text for reasons of safety. So I foresee no problem, whether you narrate for him or not. Ah, perhaps I should have mentioned that sooner…”

Tomohito visibly held his breath, scanning her face to gauge her reaction.

But Akari just shrugged, blowing air through her nose.

“It’s fine. I didn’t ask. I have zero plans to narrate his Kotogatari anyway, so the contents of it are of no interest to me. Anyway, it’s good to know that I don’t need to worry about him going on a wild rampage. Like you said, no problem, right?”

“I see. That’s good, then.”

Tomohito sighed with relief, then blinked rapidly as he realized Akari was packing up her study materials.

“You’re really finishing up for the night?”

“Mm-hm. I’ve had too many late nights recently. I want to be fresh for tomorrow.”

“Indeed, I have noticed you’ve been shut up in your room working on something. And that you have borrowed documents from somewhere.”

Tomohito spoke casually, but Akari paused after getting up from her chair and shot him a cold glare.

“How do you know about that?”

“No…no real reason! I simply noticed the lights coming from your bedroom window…”

“Then let’s just leave it at that.”

Tomohito nodded, eyes shining as he continued to gaze at Akari.

“Then tomorrow I shall—”

“Mayoi. Wake me up tomorrow if it looks like I might oversleep, will you?”

“Certainly, Mistress. I shall wake you up.”

“So cruel…”

They both ignored Tomohito’s whining, Mayoi patting her chest as if to say “Leave it to me!” as Akari left the room to head upstairs for the night.

∗∗∗

AKARI was not without doubts, however.

There had to be some reason Munakata had brought this job to her, a layperson, when one would assume it usually required a Narrator.

When she arrived at the Narrators’ Association office as instructed and took a look at the building in the daylight, she could see that with its white walls and columns, it looked rather like a Western place of worship.

Akari was greeted by Munakata’s Kotogami, Kuroe. Immediately, Kuroe shoved a haori coat into her arms. It was clearly a uniform of sorts, meant to identify the Narrators’ Association members.

The coat was a deep red-brown color, and on the back she noticed the emblem of the association, dyed in white, and on it what looked like a koto bridge and a flower vine in light indigo. Clearly, these elements symbolized the Narrator profession.

Akari wasn’t sure what to do with her hair and eventually opted to pull the top half up into a bun and let the rest of it fall down her back, out of the way of her face.

“That suits you very well, Mistress Akari.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad. Where’s my support Narrator? Are they running late?”

Tomohito blushed as Akari shrugged off his compliment, seating herself on a bench outside the Association building and sighing. It was already half an hour since the appointed meeting time had come and gone.

She watched as a string of people, both male and female, came and went from the building, all wearing either the same kind of haori coat as hers or the military-style uniform that Munakata wore. They also carried either a book bag or briefcase with them.

And of course, Akari had her own book bag with her.

Since they were outsiders, Kuroe was there to wait with them. But she barely moved a muscle and only stared at the gates. She was emitting that strange aura of hers again, and Akari was starting to feel nervous.

“Did I do something to upset her?”

“I think she’s nervous about being away from her Kotogatari. I can’t speak for every Kotogami, but it’s always nerve-racking to be apart from our books for too long, whether following orders or not.”

Akari nodded. That made sense. Still, she decided against saying anything to Kuroe just now. Better to leave her alone.

But then Kuroe’s chin jerked with recognition. A familiar shabby military vehicle was just coming through the gate.

It stopped with a screech of brakes, and a man dressed in a Narrator’s uniform opened the rear window and stuck his head out to stare at her.

“So you’re my support today? Just great. Get in.”

He looked a little older than Akari. Frowning at her, he rolled up the car’s window in an agitated manner. He seemed very high-strung.

Akari held out her arm as Tomohito made to enter the car. She had a feeling getting into a verbal battle right now would only make things harder.

“Tomohito, go into your book until we reach our destination.”

“…Yes, Mistress.”

Tomohito responded grudgingly before disappearing. Akari sighed and then realized Kuroe was leaving.

“Kuroe, can you give a message to Mr. Munakata for me?”

“What?”

“Tell him I’m adding an additional surcharge once this job is done.”

Kuroe blinked as Akari shouldered her book bag and opened the front passenger-side door.

She knew this was hardly the most appropriate place to sit when riding as an automobile passenger, but she’d rather eat sand than sit next to that surly young man in the back seat.

The driver seemed like a young military officer, perhaps a rank below that of a Narrator. He looked over at her, and she thought she saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes. But he said nothing.

As Akari settled back into her seat, she heard the Narrator growling in a grumpy voice behind her.

“Hmph. Just try not to get in my way, got it?”

Now Akari knew why Munakata had tried so hard to convince her to take this job: because nobody else would.

∗∗∗

THE residence in question was located southeast from the city center, at the corner of a street of fancy houses belonging to members of the aristocracy and financiers.

According to the materials she’d read while waiting, the house was full of expensive items. In the grand entrance hall, a grandfather clock loomed imposingly.

Recently, there had been frequent cases of Kotogami manifesting of their own will inside the homes of rich folk. Those affected had been reaching out to the Narrators’ Association via their personal connections in search of assistance.

Usually, the Association would turn a blind eye to the trinket-collecting habits of the rich, but lately they had been seizing this opportunity to round up unregistered Kotogatari and had been dispatching Narrators to these residences.

Now, Akari found herself standing outside one such home.

“All right. I’m Second Lieutenant Amagai, of the Narrator division. We are now going to perform an assessment. Make sure to stay out of the way. That means all of you. In case of resistance, I am authorized to use extreme force.”

Amagai hadn’t bothered to apologize for being late to the appointment. Instead, he jumped right in, snarling warnings at the servants and the owner of the household. Then he turned and started casually ordering Akari around.

“I’m going to do a sweep of the residence. You go through the books in the library and look for Kotogatari.”

Before she could respond, Amagai went off with the house’s owner. Heaving a put-upon sigh, Akari got to work. But not without remembering to acknowledge the head of the staff with a polite bow first.

Manners cost nothing. Besides, it was muscle memory for Akari, who, after all, worked in the corporate world herself.

“What the heck is that guy’s problem?”

Tomohito had appeared suddenly, fuming in the face of Akari’s calm resignation.

“Getting in a stew about it won’t help. Just calm down.”

“But, Mistress!”

Akari shot him a look as he continued to huff and puff. Just then Kansuke spoke up from where he was casually leaning against a wall. He’d manifested as soon as they’d been shown to the library collection.

“There’s no point getting angry over the words of a puny military man like that. Just ignore him while we’re here. The mission will be done soon enough, after all.”

Kansuke seemed at ease as he rested against the wall with his katana slung casually across his body. But it was clear he wasn’t about to take orders from anyone. And he obviously thought Amagai was as much of a twit as Akari did.

Tomohito fell silent then, which came as a relief. Akari sighed and handed him a book.

“Let’s just get on with the job, shall we? I can’t go through all these by myself.”

The entire room was crammed with books. It was going to take a long time to check them all. Tomohito nodded, in control of his emotions once more.

“…Yes, Mistress. I think it would be best if you simply held the books in your hands to sense for any irregularities. There is no need to open them. If you find any suspicious books, please give them directly to me.”

“All right. What about Kansuke?”

“Me? I’ll do my job too. Of course.”

When Akari turned around, she saw that Kansuke was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, one knee bent casually. He didn’t look as if he was prepared to do any work at all.

They stared each other down, but Kansuke blinked first. Still, Akari decided to drop it. Rolling up her sleeves, she dove into the sea of books.

They had one day to get the job done. But thanks to Amagai being late, they were going to be cutting it very close indeed.

Akari picked up a volume and held it for a moment, waiting to feel something. There was no need to read the title.

She’d studied the materials well before coming, but she was still doubtful that she had the necessary ability to differentiate a Kotogatari from a regular book. Soon, though, one book in particular made her senses start tingling.

“…Hmm?”

The book felt warm, as if from the residual heat of someone’s hand. Or as if she were holding a small animal in her palm. Akari murmured in surprise, and Tomohito’s head whipped around.

“Good work, Mistress. There’s a malicious presence within, to be sure.”

“It’s not a Kotogatari?”

“This isn’t a spirit that’s been enshrined in a book. Instead, it’s a concentration of negative energy that has collected within a book, drawn by the story within. If we leave it be, it may cause harm to someone. We should exorcise the spirit.”

“Oh yes, that’s one of our duties as well. Let’s separate it from the rest.”

Akari recalled that the handbook she’d read had mentioned such spirits as well. She set the book aside and continued sorting. Mostly she just picked up a book from the pile on her right and immediately restacked it again on her left. Working in tandem with Tomohito, they managed to get through about half of the room’s books before Amagai came strolling in.

“What? You’re not done yet?”

Akari could practically sense Tomohito’s blood pressure shooting up, and she got to her feet to diffuse the situation. Tomohito really was a hotheaded young man.

“Excuse me, we’ve found several books housing negative spirits. Could you take care of them?”

“What? Oh. Something like that, it’d be quicker to just burn them.”

Amagai snorted at the small pile of books, then withdrew a stack of sacred paper slips from his bag. Carelessly, he slapped the slips onto the book covers.

Then, a frightening, oppressive aura began to slowly emanate from the pile.

As Akari waited, she felt the dark, heavy atmosphere in the room slowly begin to lift. The spirits had been exorcised. Potential personality disorder aside, this surly young man clearly possessed the necessary abilities of a Narrator.

“From what the owner tells me, all the books are housed in this room. I checked every room just to be sure, but I didn’t sense anything. What I’m saying is that I’ve done my part, and our job here won’t be over until you’ve finished doing yours.”

Akari let his passive-aggressive little speech roll off her like water off a duck’s back. She’d been expecting it, you see.

If all the house’s books were kept in this one room, then that meant Akari and her crew had almost the entirety of the workload. Somehow that piece of logic hadn’t registered in Amagai’s man-brain.

Akari knew his type. He thought that just because she was a woman, that automatically made her work inferior to his and gave him the right to look down his nose at her.

Casually, she reached out and put a warning hand on Tomohito’s arm. She’d been expecting this.

“Back to work, Tomohito. We’ll have time for talking later.”

“…All right.”

Akari jumped right back in. At times like this, it was better to keep your head down and just think of the pay. Sighing theatrically, Amagai sat on the floor and watched.

“I can’t believe you haven’t made more progress when you have not one, but two Kotogami helping you. Are you here to be a Narrator or just to goof off?”

“My apologies.”

Silence would be taken as insubordination, so Akari bit out an insincere apology instead. Let him berate her if that was what he wanted. He’d get bored all the sooner, then hopefully get lost.

“What’s with the pretty boy? Only a young unmarried woman would want to manifest a Kotogami just for his looks. Pathetic. And where did you find that dirty-looking old samurai? Look at him—he’s just slobbing around on the floor. Kotogami are meant to serve humans. If he can’t even do that, he should be tossed out with the trash.”

“I chose my Kotogami well, thank you very much.”

Whoops. Akari had gotten sassy. She felt a pang of instant regret, but it was too late to take it back. Amagai stared at her, eyes bulging. He hadn’t been expecting any backtalk from her, that much was clear. Akari lowered her head politely and attempted some damage control.

“Tomohito is here to assist me with practical matters. And Kansuke Mishima is here in case of any violent resistance from unruly Kotogami. Both have been doing a fine job.”

Akari saw Kansuke’s eyes widen with surprise from his position slouched against the wall.

But hadn’t he been watching over the books with the negative spirits for her, until Amagai came along and exorcised them? He’d done his job of protecting them both, just as Akari had said. He’d been on the alert, ready to leap in without delay.

Even Tomohito looked surprised.

“You noticed?”

“Mm-hmm. Actually, I noticed that Kansuke hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol this morning. And when that dark aura rose from the books before, he prevented it from floating my way.”

Akari wasn’t sure how book exorcism worked, but that was how it had seemed to her.

The handbook also said that when a layperson takes part in a Kotogatari retrieval mission, they should be guarded at all times by a Narrator or capable Kotogami. Which means Kansuke did exactly what the handbook said to do. Still, he could have filled her in on what he was doing.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Second Lieutenant Amagai, I am only here in an assistant capacity and I do not have the qualifications needed to handle Kotogami. Without you being here, I felt it imprudent to do anything more than simply look through the books. I apologize for how long the process has been taking.”

Feeling Kansuke’s silent gaze on her, Akari bowed politely to Amagai and then returned to her work.

Amagai was probably about to give her hell for her impertinence. And Munakata would be none too pleased with her later on either. But whatever.

From the corner of her eye, Akari saw Amagai get to his feet, red-faced and trembling with rage.

Bong. Bong. All of a sudden, they could hear a clock’s gong booming away downstairs.

Akari turned to check the clock on the wall. It showed three p.m.

At the same moment, a Western record began to play. A woman’s voice, singing a sweet song.

The tune was so familiar. Forgetting her surroundings, Akari allowed herself to close her eyes for just a moment.

The books that Amagai had sealed with the sacred paper slips began to jitter violently.

“What the?!”

Before their eyes, the paper strips blackened and crumbled to dust, and a midnight-black shadow billowed from the books.

Before Tomohito could even leap in front of a shocked Akari…

Before Amagai could even reach for his book bag…

Before anyone could even move a muscle, Kansuke had sprung into action.

He leaped to his feet, black hair flying, eyes darting.

As Tomohito pulled Akari against him, the column of roiling black smoke was suddenly bisected neatly at the midpoint.

Kansuke had drawn his sword, quick as lightning, and dealt a killing blow without a fraction of hesitation.

Akari was still trying to process what had happened when Tomohito helpfully spelled it out, still holding her close.

“Kansuke has just cut down the vengeful energy! It appears it managed to take on a kind of physical form…”

“I… I see.”

“How did it do that, though? It shouldn’t have been strong enough to take shape.” Amagai was rubbing his chin, muttering to himself. Just then the house was filled with the sounds of screaming and a commotion.

Amagai’s head snapped up, and he clucked his tongue in irritation before snapping at Akari, “I suppose now I have to go and check that out. You, come with me.”

“Y-Yes, of course. Kansuke, Tomohito…”

Akari trotted obediently behind Amagai down the hallway. From another connecting hallway, the residence’s owner came skidding into view and dashed toward them.

In the background, they could see several of the stronger male servants desperately holding shut a thick iron door, while another one fumbled for the lock.

Something was throwing itself violently against the door, making it shake on its hinges…

“What’s going on?!”

Amagai shouted imperiously at the homeowner, who wrung his hands in desperation.

“It’s a yokai! It…it emerged from a Kotogatari! A horrible Nue!”

Then came a mighty crash, as if an inner wall had been broken through.

In panicked tones, the owner told them everything.

How he hadn’t liked Amagai’s tone and the way he’d rudely taken charge of things, and so he’d hidden a Kotogatari, a precious heirloom, in the storeroom.

But then he’d heard a crashing sound, and when he went to investigate, he’d found the Nue laying waste to the storeroom, and he’d immediately locked the beast in.

Amagai ordered the owner and all the servants to evacuate, sending Tomohito to accompany them just in case.

Then it was only Akari and Amagai left standing in the corridor that led to the storeroom. And Kansuke too, of course.

“The Nue Kotogatari. It’s often replicated and used as a protective talisman. Old, established families keep one in the house to worship. The original was an Aratama, a savage soul. Our organization recommends the immediate retrieval of this type of Kotogatari. As the pages and bindings age and degrade over the years, the spirits within become even more susceptible to violence. As such, this Kotogami can no longer be safely sealed inside its book.”

Amagai flung the Kotogatari tome onto the floor. Its bindings were coming apart, and the text inside was faded and only half-decipherable, the pages yellow with age.

The fading and blurring of the text itself wasn’t water damage or anything like that. Even Akari could see that it was a physical representation of the erosion of the binding spell that kept the Kotogami inside the book.

“Idiot. If he’d just handed it over to begin with… This way is so much more work.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Akari hoped the practical question would bring Amagai back from his self-indulgent brooding session.

The Nue was still rampaging around inside the storeroom. It could break free at any moment.

“I’m going to have to slay the Nue. I don’t have time to prepare a new, blank Kotogatari. I’ll have to end it here.”

Akari felt her impression of Amagai improving somewhat. He sounded very competent.

From the firm set of his jaw, she realized that despite his constant complaining and obvious work-shirking, he was at least prepared to do his duty as a Narrator.

Personality flaws aside, he was good at his job.

In that case, she’d better step back. But Amagai looked at her thoughtfully for a moment.

“Wait. Where is your book bag?”

“Huh? Oh, I left it in the library.”

“I see.”

Amagai turned and started walking back down the hallway.

Surprised, Akari stared after him. She didn’t notice Kansuke frowning beside her.

“Uh, where are you going, Mr. Amagai?”

“Didn’t you say your Kotogami there is Kansuke Mishima? Even you must have heard his tale. In this situation, there’s no better Kotogami for the job than a DemonSlayer.”

“Wait, you want me to narrate Kansuke’s book…?”

Amagai’s plan finally registered with Akari, whose voice had grown high and squeaky with panic. Not that Amagai cared.

“From what I can guess, you haven’t made a contract with that one yet. So I think it would be more effective if I narrated. The Kotogami I brought with me in my own book bag…well, let’s just say we don’t get along too well.”

“Ah, but…be that as it may…”

“That display of swordsmanship just before—very impressive from a mere physical manifestation. And you say he hasn’t even had a narration spell cast? That book must have been bound by a master craftsman. Totally wasted on you, of course.”

Akari shuffled after Amagai as fast as she could, but her kimono was restrictive, and he was able to stride forth in comfortable modern trousers.

And to make things worse, she wasn’t very agile to begin with. She soon lost sight of Amagai, and just as she was beginning to fret, Tomohito appeared around a corner, back from escorting the home’s residents to safety.

“What’s wrong, Mistress Akari?”

“Tomohito! Amagai is saying he’s going to narrate Kansuke’s Kotogatari!”

Tomohito’s eyes widened, then instantly narrowed.

“Please excuse me, Mistress.”

Tomohito swooped her up in his arms. He could run much faster than she could, even while carrying a full-grown woman.

They’d lost sight of Kansuke too. He’d been right behind Akari… Where could he have gone?

“Amagai must have gotten ahold of Kansuke’s Kotogatari already. No matter what, we are duty bound to return to our Kotogatari when human possession changes hands.”

Tomohito’s explanation didn’t help to quell the sense of unease Akari was feeling.

The two of them burst into the library to see Amagai turning Kansuke’s Kotogatari over in his hands and inspecting it.

Amagai turned and frowned at Akari, who was gasping for breath. Then, ignoring her, he faced Kansuke, who was standing before him.

“Lucky you. You get to have your book narrated by a real Narrator this time, not just some random rookie.”

“I think that’s ill-advised. But do your worst.”

Kansuke stared impassively back at Amagai, who flipped open the book’s blue-gray cover and thumbed through to the corresponding page. Then, he began to read.

“A warrior of centuries past,

who with mighty sword did slay

an Onigami demon god.

May thy steel blaze again

in service to thy lord.

The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima!”

The blue-gray ribbon of energy arose from the book’s open page once more and enveloped Kansuke.

The magical energy unleashed was visibly many times greater than when Akari had manifested Kansuke by simply speaking his name.

It was strange, though. That blue-gray color… It seemed duller in her opinion. More…ominous.

The energy enveloped Kansuke, obscuring his impassive expression. When it cleared, the kimono he wore looked different.

Before, he’d been dressed in a casual, debauched manner, with a kimono but no overcoat. Now, he wore a men’s hakama—formal split kimono pants for samurai mounted on horseback—and dual swords at his waist. His shoulder-length ponytail was the same, but it seemed to be floating in a nonexistent breeze. His impassive expression was gone too, replaced by a grimly resolute jaw and steely, determined eyes.

“You seem so…”

…Different, Akari thought, trailing off midsentence. As she silently gazed at Kansuke, Tomohito interjected.

“Kotogami can be strongly influenced by a Narrator’s interpretation of their text. The Kansuke you see now has manifested himself in the image that man desires him to take.”

Akari, of course, had not narrated any of Kansuke’s text. All she’d done was read out his name.

It was amazing how much of a difference there was. Akari could hardly believe it, staring at Kansuke now.

“It seems a proper Narration could make a decent man of even your shabby Kotogami here. Well, let’s get going…”

Nodding with satisfaction, Amagai shifted his weight to move but paused as he noticed Kansuke’s hand going to the hilt of his sword.

“Prepare to die.”

Growling in a much deeper voice than before, Kansuke suddenly swung his sword.

It was a miracle that Amagai managed to dodge it. If he hadn’t tripped over a pile of books at that exact moment and gone flying, he might have lost his head.

With the target missed, the momentum of Kansuke’s swing made the sword crash into the bookshelf. This was no game. Kansuke meant to kill Amagai right there in cold blood.

Through her terror, Akari registered that Kansuke’s expression had changed. That was not the face of the Kotogami she knew.

It was the face of a demigod—not a human at all.

The Kotogatari with the blue-gray cover had fallen from Amagai’s terror-numbed hands and now lay open on the floor not too far from Akari.

It was clear that Kansuke’s rampage wouldn’t end as long as the book was open.

“Tomohito! Stop him!”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Responding calmly, Tomohito faced off against the demigod.

Abandoning the samurai sword, which was still stuck firmly in the bookshelf, Kansuke drew the second sword from his belt instead and set his sights on Tomohito as his new priority target.

At the same time, Akari was leaping for Kansuke’s Kotogatari. Scrabbling through the toppled avalanche of books, she managed to pluck it free. She gasped with urgency and quickly slammed the book shut before immediately opening it again.

All the things she’d learned during her study sessions…in her panic, she couldn’t recall any of them.

Not sure if this was the right way, but not knowing what else to do, she went for it.

“The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima!”

It took all of Akari’s bravery to squeeze out the words in a high, wavering voice. Even as Kansuke raised his curved sword high above Tomohito, the blue-gray haze enveloping him immediately dissipated.

The sword crumbled into dust in his hands, and Kansuke’s form shimmered.

Then Kansuke was back to his previous self. Sighing deeply, he raised his head, dressed once more in the casual kimono Akari knew so well.

To Akari, his expression seemed to show deep pain and resignation.

Amagai was out cold. It looked as though he’d whacked his head on the floor when he’d tripped.

“What a fool. He invoked the LordSlayer side of Kansuke’s Kotogami soul. But he is only unconscious. He should awaken shortly.”

After Akari and Tomohito lifted Amagai into a sitting position, Tomohito assessed his condition. Akari was relieved it wasn’t serious.

Amagai knocking himself unconscious must have broken the narration spell and allowed Akari to take over and remanifest Kansuke in his safer form. That was good. But when she thought about what still needed to be done, Akari felt her heart sinking.

After all, the Nue was still locked up in the storeroom. Akari was certain she couldn’t handle that without Amagai. And if she fled, the Nue would probably destroy the residence, and maybe even the whole neighborhood and beyond. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to flee to safety in time.

“It seemed like Amagai knew who Kansuke was. Why did he insist on narrating from his book?”

“He must have assumed that this copy of Kansuke’s book didn’t include the passages about him slaying his own lord. The copies in circulation don’t, as a rule. Those abridged versions of the Kansuke Mishima tale aren’t as powerful, but they’re considered safer to manifest.”

Akari rubbed her chin thoughtfully, looking back and forth between Tomohito and Kansuke, who was leaning silently against the wall.

During the previous week, Akari had actually read through Kansuke’s Kotogatari as part of her studies. It had contained what seemed to be a full account of the doings of Kansuke Mishima. If the copies that were in existence had parts removed, then…

“Wait. That means this Kansuke Mishima must be…”

“Your suspicions are accurate, girly. My Kotogatari is the original text. Accordingly, I am the Kotogami that was born when Kansuke Mishima’s own demonic soul was enshrined and sealed.”

Kansuke spoke casually, as if none of these events concerned him very much. Akari was astonished for a moment, but then she realized that actually, that made a lot of sense.

Shooting Akari a quick, sharp glance, Kansuke continued.

“The higher-ups and the Narrators back then, they did NOT like me. I was very sword-happy, you see. I cut many a neck. But they sealed me in just the way I was, as a vengeful demon. That was part of the punishment. Then I had to serve humans for eternity as a Kotogami. But they made a big error. One of the things I did made me permanently unsuitable for servitude, you see.”

“Yes, I know the tale. The one about you murdering your own lord.”

That grisly tale was popular material for Kabuki plays and joruri recitations, performed about as often as the one about him slaying the Onigami demon god.

The samurai Kansuke Mishima had been a retainer of a certain daimyo, or feudal lord. Showing a rare brilliance as a child and a particular gift for the sword, Kansuke had caught the eye of the daimyo, who had taken him into his service. But in his old age, the man had gone to his sickbed. When the end was drawing near, he called Kansuke to his bedside.

“I want my son to become a good lord after my passing. Swear that you’ll support him, no matter what happens.”

Kansuke nodded, and the old man breathed his last. But this one moment would prove to be the start of much misfortune.

The next daimyo was a diligent one, but he was also a highly cautious and suspicious man. Under his rulership, an era of peace dawned. He governed his lands well. But he was always wary of Kansuke, whom he had inherited from his father. One day, he set out to test Kansuke’s loyalty. To this end, he placed upon the samurai’s shoulders three seemingly impossible demands.

One, to slay the Nue, who had appeared in the Imperial Court.

Two, to slay the Narugami thundergod demon, who had appeared in the Ashiyama stronghold.

And three, to infiltrate a rival faction and divide it from within.

Having made that promise to the preceding daimyo, Kansuke had no choice but to accept the new lord’s challenges so as to not betray his oath. However, the more fame Kansuke’s name accrued, the more the wary daimyo treated him with suspicion. Faced with the new daimyo’s scorn, Kansuke began to forget his promise to the old lord and began to bear a grudge.

As the Kabuki plays and joruri recitations tell it, Kansuke took on the hate and resentment of all the evil spirits he slayed, soaking them up as if by osmosis. Generally, his character depiction became increasingly inhuman after that point.

The noble, upstanding samurai Kansuke began to change.

He started to frequent the red-light district and drink heavily. Sometimes he even wandered the town, indiscriminately cutting down the townsfolk with his sword. He began to take pleasure in killing.

And then, the fateful incident happened.

The daimyo ordered Kansuke to defeat another demon, one that was snatching away and violating scores of women.

“Leave it to me. I shall bring you the beast cut in two.”

Kansuke went to slay the demon. That done, he returned to the castle dripping with blood. And there, he killed the daimyo.

Before, he had been known as the DemonChaser.

Following this, Kansuke turned into a kind of man-eating demon himself, and his crimes only grew. He cut down Narrators and Kotogami alike, any who tried to oppose him. After a final deadly spree in which Kansuke slaughtered half a castle full of people, he was besieged by scores of Narrators and Kotogami in a coordinated attack and was finally taken down to meet his grisly end.

He had slain his own lord, massacred innocent citizens, and laid waste to the peace of the age with his sword. He was a monster.

To this day, Kansuke Mishima was known as LordSlayer.

“Your fit of murderous rage just before…that was because of the inclusion of that tale in your Kotogatari, right?”

Kansuke smiled sardonically in response to Akari’s question.

“Yes. I am forever tainted by that incident when I killed my lord. That’s why whenever anyone narrates my book out loud, I am prompted once again to kill ‘my lord’…who, in that moment, for all intents and purposes, is the one reading my book. Not that I ever intended to serve a master ever again. Every Narrator who has tried to use me, I have slain. But I was sealed long ago. What luck for me that I found myself cataloged in that Bookhouse and awoken by the call of a little girly like you.”

Kansuke shrugged, then narrowed his eyes at Akari.

“Don’t you ever try to read me. You may have stopped my rampage just then, but the same thing will always happen. Don’t think I won’t kill you just because you’re a little girl.”

“But…Kansuke…”

While Akari was still trying to find the right words, Kansuke pushed himself off the wall and turned to Tomohito.

“Hey, Tomohito. Can you get in contact with the folks outside? I’ll face off against the beast; you call in reinforcements while I’m doing that.”

“Huh?”

Akari wasn’t sure she’d heard right. Kansuke was suddenly smiling, as if the preceding intense conversation hadn’t even happened.

“My job’s to protect you, right, girly? I owe you several good bottles of booze worth of work. I can swing my sword well enough with only the power generated by you reading out my name.”

“But…you’re seriously going up against that Nue, all on your own?”

Akari was incredulous. But Kansuke simply stroked his sword hilt as he continued speaking.

“Did you miss that my story includes the tale of me slaying a Nue, among my other deeds? Even at half power, I can buy us time until backup arrives. And unfortunately it seems Tomohito’s hand is out of commission for the time being.”

Tomohito’s what? Akari turned to look and realized for the first time that Tomohito was clearly hiding his hand inside his suit jacket.

“Tomohito, hold out your hand.”

“It is no big deal, Mistress, I assure you…”

Reluctantly, Tomohito held his hand out toward Akari. It was bright red with fresh burn marks.

Akari had no idea how the burn had happened, but it must have been inflicted at some point during that skirmish moments ago.

“It will soon return to normal, so please do not worry. Only, Kansuke is right. I cannot protect you like this, Mistress Akari.”

“So we’re all up to speed. Girly, take my Kotogatari and head on outside to wait. I should still be in range. But don’t go too far, or I’ll be compelled to return to my book.”

Kansuke still sounded so nonchalant. But Akari wasn’t convinced.

“But you might get injured or, you know…die.”

Tomohito’s burn wound had smacked Akari with the sudden realization that Kotogami could be hurt. And how would Kansuke fare, acting at only half power?

Tomohito frowned, seeming hesitant.

“As long as a Kotogami’s Kotogatari remains intact, we cannot die. However, when we receive substantial injuries, the condition of our Kotogatari can degrade…”

“You’re much more likely to die than I am, girly. So quit your bellyachin’.”

Akari swallowed the last of her protests then.

Kansuke didn’t seem annoyed or impatient. Rather, he was looking at her with a kind smile, his features empathetic.

“After all, I killed my own lord. Perhaps it would be a fitting end for me to die hunting down a beast for a fair maiden.”

With a nonchalant shrug, he headed to the door of the library. That was when Akari felt something inside her mind go snap.

“I know, you know!”

Her voice was petulant, like a whiny child’s, but she didn’t care.

Both Tomohito and Kansuke turned back to look at her.

She stared defiantly at the samurai with narrowed, angry eyes. From the periphery of her vision, she could see Tomohito blinking and looking confused.

Still staring at Kansuke, Akari let the words pour forth in a flood.

“I know all about it—how that daimyo lord of yours was weak and spineless, and how he let his scheming retainer whisper venom in his ear about you. That’s why he sent you off on certain-death missions! And I know why you killed him too! It was because he was a tyrant—an oppressor of his own people! And because he had captured your little sister and kept her as a slave! And I know you covered it all up and took the blame for everything to spare your lord’s name, and you let that falsehood be passed down as historical fact!”

Akari stopped, breathing heavily. Kansuke’s eyes were wide and round with shock—the first genuine expression he’d shown since she’d met him, she thought.

Looking equally astonished, Tomohito nodded, muttering under his breath.

“Yes…the volumes Mistress Akari has been borrowing of late…all history books…”

“I may dislike stories, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy reading reference texts.”

She felt immediately defensive, even though she knew no one was accusing her of anything.

It was true, though. She didn’t hate all books. In fact, you might even call her an avid reader of nonfiction and educational texts. Back at the all-girls school, she used to hole up in the library and feast her eyes on illustrated reference books about history, botany, and the sciences. Any subject, in fact, where flights of fancy were rendered wholly unnecessary by facts and logic.

Over the past week, she’d spent a lot of time sequestered in her room, poring over a history book on Kansuke Mishima that she’d originally read back at school, just to refresh her memory.

That was why she’d been slightly starstruck when Kansuke had manifested in his samurai garb like that. She’d thought she knew all about the historical figure, but it was like coming face-to-face with someone famous. She’d never admit to anyone how hard her heart had thumped in her chest at that moment.

“So what? Did you forget the part about me strolling around town killing random people for fun?”

“Oh, you’re a bad man for sure. I’m not disputing that. Your sword is stained with the blood of innocents. Even in that less civilized, long-past era, you were a monster.”

Kansuke’s jaw hung open a little. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting her snappy comeback.

And yet…Akari didn’t feel like passing judgment on Kansuke’s crimes. Honestly, she had no idea why he hadn’t turned his back on his lord even sooner, or why he was still covering for his reputation to this day. Had he slain those innocents to make the story seem more plausible? Akari didn’t know. And either way, it wasn’t her place to judge.

Even so…

Akari did know a few things. She knew that samurai of that era were willing to do anything for their lords. Their loyalty was absolute. And she knew Kansuke’s respect and reverence for his lord’s late father must have been incredibly strong. Kansuke had been trying to protect the legacy of the son, for the sake of the father.

“You know what I think? I think you were really noble! That you did your duty by your first lord in the end, with that very sword of yours! And I think you were a compassionate man who cared deeply for his family, who leaped into action to save his stolen sister. I can’t judge you. I just can’t. You see…”

Akari’s hands were clasped at her chest, her eyes shining with emotion.

“You see…I think you are a wonderful, wonderful samurai, Kansuke Mishima!”

Even as the words left her lips, Akari regretted them. Blushing a deep red, she covered her mouth with her hands in horror. She’d never meant to say anything like that. But in the heat of the moment, she couldn’t stop herself.

Her cheeks burned with shame as she hung her head.

For a moment, Kansuke stared at her open-mouthed. Then he snorted.

Bending in two and grabbing his own knees, Kansuke started to bellow with laughter. Akari pursed her lips, unimpressed

Fine, let him laugh. It’s fine, thought Akari. The tears rolling down his cheeks were taking it a bit far, though.

“Mistress Akari! I had no idea you felt that way… I feel somewhat jeal— I mean…surprised.”

“Ugh, could you please NOT talk right now.”

Tomohito’s shocked reaction made Akari feel even more embarrassed. Finally, though, Kansuke managed to get his laughter under control.

“So what would you have said wonderful samurai do for you, miss?”

He didn’t call me “girly” for once, Akari realized with surprise. Kansuke, meanwhile, observed her with a glint in his piercing eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how you go about narrating my Kotogatari. My sword has a mind of its own. There’s no way around it.”

“Are you saying you accept me as your…your lord?”

“You saw what just happened. Does it look like I accepted him as my lord? That’s what I try to do to people who act like they’ve got me all figured out.”

In other words: Give it up, lady. But Kansuke’s expression seemed lightened somehow, as if an evil spirit had been chased from his body.

Thinking about it logically, he was right of course. However…

“You should easily be able to slay a Nue, if you could tap into that old power of yours, right?”

“Obviously.”

Akari smiled wryly.

It wouldn’t be Kansuke without a show of bravado like that.

“Right. Well, to that end… Tomohito, I have something to discuss. Wait, what’s wrong with you now?!”

“N-Nothing, Mistress… Just a little jealous… What can I help you with?”

Akari rolled her eyes, ignoring his self-indulgent sulking.

“Let’s talk Kotogatari for a minute… We can still manifest a Kotogami’s power even if problematic events in the spirit’s past are intentionally omitted from certain copies, right? So does the same ring true for events that were actually maybe true but were never included in the first place because history forgot them?”

“Your guess would be correct, Mistress.”

“So then my question, nay, my suggestion is this: If the narration is so influential, is it then possible to manifest the Kotogami’s spirit power into whatever form I like? I mean, can such factors be left to the Narrator’s choice?”

Both Tomohito and Kansuke looked aghast at this question.

“Theoretically, it’s possible if one specifies such a thing when narrating…”

“Hey, where the heck are you planning to manifest me? Don’t put me in Tomohito’s body; I absolutely forbid it.”

“All right. But here’s what I’m thinking. LordSlayer though you may be, you’d never kill yourself, right? So what if you and your master—your Narrator—shared the same body?”

Kansuke looked trepidatious, but Akari met his gaze unblinkingly, despite her nerves. This plan was her suggestion, and she was prepared to take responsibility for whatever happened. Besides, she had faith in her convictions.

Whether Kansuke was a loyal samurai or a feckless reprobate was still to be seen. This way, Akari could find out who the real Kansuke Mishima was. She’d have proof.

Having clearly grasped Akari’s plan, Tomohito was white and speechless. Kansuke, for his part, looked decidedly unimpressed.

“Are you some kind of idiot, girly?”

“A true samurai could do it, though, right?”

Actually, Akari had no idea what would happen. Maybe her plan would fail spectacularly.

She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to go this route so badly. But she knew she couldn’t turn back now.

Even so…Kansuke had been so frightening in his demigod form…just horrible. What if…

As Tomohito wrung his hands wretchedly, everything in the room seemed to suddenly vibrate.

The fury of the Nue was shaking the entire house down to its very foundations. There was no more time to lose.

Kansuke sighed reluctantly. What other choice did they have?

“All right. Then let’s get on with it. Use me as you will.”

“I’m just going to speak the truth. Then we’ll see if you really are the greatest samurai the Yamato Empire has ever known.”

Kansuke snorted again.

“You really do remind me of her, so much…”

Kansuke shook his head slightly as he gazed at her, and Akari thought she saw a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. What to make of that? Never mind. She’d gotten Kansuke on board. Reluctantly so, but on board all the same.

But Tomohito still seemed fretful.

“Mistress Akari, are you sure you’re all right to narrate from the Kotogatari?”

Nope, actually. She felt as though her resolve would fail her at any moment. Nonetheless…

“I’m sticking to historical facts. At least how I interpreted them. A bunch of people believing a falsehood doesn’t make it true. I hate when people think that. Now show me how to narrate.”

“Yes, Mistress…”

Chewing his lip, Tomohito watched as Akari picked up the blue-gray Kotogatari volume once more.

A sudden wave of fear seemed to rise up in her throat, but she forced it back down.

She didn’t know why she was so determined to do this, but she couldn’t stop now. The historical figure she had so admired—she didn’t want to believe he was that kind of man after all.

“Then please open the book to your desired page. Preferably one detailing the powers you wish to manifest. That will make it easier.”

As instructed, Akari opened the book. Then she flipped through until she reached the section about how the unequaled samurai slayed the fearsome Nue. The book was an old one, but the black ink of the cursive letters seemed fresh on the white page.

“Now, please narrate, describing the essence of the spirit you wish to manifest and in what form. Speak from the belly and summon the spirit. But choose your words carefully, as you address the soul of the spirit itself. It is an invocation, a prayer to the spirit’s immortal soul.”

An invocation… A spirit’s immortal soul… Akari let those words flow past her. Focusing on the enormity of them right now would do her no good.

She didn’t know what she wanted to manifest. She was just going to stick to what she knew in her heart to be true. That would be easiest.

This wasn’t a story she was telling. This was her, communicating her true feelings to the Kotogami.

She tried to steady her thoughts. Gazing at the samurai before her, Akari took a deep breath and began to speak.

“In loyal service to thy lord,

thou defied morality itself,

and yet remain a hero among warriors.

Now lend to me thy sword, thy skill, thy loyalty,

as I lend to thee my body as thy vessel.

The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima!”

The blue-gray ribbon of energy began to rise from the book, seeming brighter than ever before.

Shooting over to Kansuke, the ribbon folded itself around him and drew tight, changing the shape and form of the man bound within.

When the ribbon faded away, only a mighty samurai sword remained, floating in the air.

It had a black lacquered scabbard, and the hilt was wrapped with white cloth. It was Kansuke’s famous sword, known as Narugami’s Fury.

Akari took the sword in hand. At that exact moment, she felt a presence enter her body and mind.

“Not bad, not bad at all.”

She could hear Kansuke’s thoughts inside her head. The sword, which must have been very heavy indeed, felt as light as a feather in her hand.

Then, Akari’s body began to move without her willing it to.

She felt Kansuke within her, moving her body as he chose. She sensed his surprise, his joy.

Akari’s plan seemed to have worked. She tried to sigh with relief but could not. She was not in control of her body.

Fine, then. Akari relinquished control. Let the sword lead the woman.

“You can take charge of my body. My reflexes are terrible and I have no strength anyway. Just…be careful with it, okay?”

“That’s the spirit. No pun intended.”

“It’s better to leave these things to the expert, right?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Her lips were moving, and her voice could be heard, but the thoughts were Kansuke’s, not hers. How odd. Akari decided not to care about that right now, though.

“Agh… Hearing Kansuke’s thoughts in Mistress Akari’s voice… It’s so…discombobulating!”

As Tomohito massaged his temples in worry, Kansuke-in-Akari thrust the blue-gray Kotogatari and the sword’s scabbard into his hands.

“I can’t carry these and walk in this restrictive kimono. Bring them.”

Then Kansuke-in-Akari began to walk, carrying the unsheathed sword in one hand.

Akari had always been terribly clumsy and uncoordinated.

She was apt to stumble and trip over her own feet just walking through town. In fact, that was one of the reasons why she wore boots instead of traditional Japanese thong sandals.

She’d always thought of herself as slow and sluggish, but as the corridors seemed to flash past her on both sides, she was taken aback. She’d never moved this swiftly in her life.

And “she” was carrying a heavy samurai sword with both hands too, the actual Narugami killer.

If Akari was impressed by her body’s untapped capabilities, Kansuke wasn’t.

“Tch! A woman’s body is so slow! And heavier than I’d imagined…”

Stopping to transfer the sword to one hand momentarily, Kansuke took hold of her kimono hem with his free hand and roughly ripped it off around the knee area.

If Akari had been in control of the mouth, she might have squealed in protest. As it was, Tomohito did the honors for her.

“Kansuke, how dare you?! Treating Mistress Akari’s body in such a disrespectful way!”

“Oh, pipe down. We don’t have time to worry about sparing a lady’s blushes right now. Just come!”

As they drew close to their destination, the storeroom, they could see the fearsome Nue just nosing its face through a gap it had opened in the doors.

Its body was twisted and warped, with four muscular tiger legs and the snarling face of a monkey. Its long snake’s tail was swishing about violently. Its strength was so great that it had actually forced the sturdy-looking iron doors apart.

Fixing its gaze on them, it gibbered and shrieked. Could Kansuke really defeat a beast such as this?

“Stand firm. It’s only one beast, after all. Just leave this to me.”

Akari did as Kansuke instructed and let herself go limp. She didn’t want to get in Kansuke’s way by hindering his control of her body. It was all up to the sword now.

“On second thought, girly: your body probably won’t hold up long under this manifestation. I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

That didn’t exactly fill Akari with confidence, but before she could even blink, Kansuke suddenly put on a burst of speed.

Akari’s hair streamed behind her as they ran toward the Nue at top speed, Kansuke holding the sword high in the air.

Even as the beast began to squeeze its body through the gap in the doors, Kansuke sprinted past, swinging his weapon as he did so.

The sword slashed the vile monkey face just as the Nue came tumbling forward into the hallway.

The creature shrieked with rage and whirled around, searching for its mortal prey, the samurai-like girl.

But before the beast’s eyes could focus, Kansuke whirled and came at it again.

The samurai fighting spirit was within him, despite the weaker female form he was inhabiting.

He was the Kansuke Mishima of legend, the fearless warrior who had slain countless demons.

His sword flashed, eating into the meat of the Nue’s neck.

As the weapon in her hands sliced the creature’s flesh in two, Akari was equal parts impressed and horrified by the violence, and her part in it.

The sinewy tiger limbs trembled and collapsed, sending the beast crashing to the floor.

Kansuke dodged the falling creature’s impact by a hair.

Then, for good measure, he sliced the creature’s tail from its body before it could lash out at him in its death throes.

Akari hadn’t even noticed the tail twitching, poising itself to strike. But Kansuke had.

Taking the scabbard back from Tomohito, Kansuke wiped the blood off the blade, preparing to resheath it once more.

The creature’s head stopped rolling across the floor, its momentum and life force finally spent.

As the sword slid into place, Akari felt her body suddenly being relinquished to her. Breathing hard, she stumbled and had to steady herself against the wall.

The familiar blue-gray ribbon of energy rose from the Narugami sword again, and Kansuke materialized in the hallway in its place, looking no worse the wear for the battle that had just transpired.

Akari’s body felt heavy, and she was breathing hard, as if she’d been running as fast as she could.

After the pitched battle, perhaps it was only natural. But Akari felt as though she’d been hit by a delivery truck.

Spots of light began to dance in front of her eyes. Kansuke leaped for her, but Tomohito caught her in his strong arms first.

“Well done, Mistress. Your own body’s sword swing defeated the demon! But you must be exhausted. Being possessed by a spirit can be very taxing on the human psyche.”

“Oh…yes… But what about Kansuke? Is he all right?”

“I’m right here.”

Akari turned her head slowly and saw Kansuke standing there. He seemed his usual nonchalant self, but she could sense the heat of battle slowly leaving him like steam from a kettle, his tension unwinding.

“What in the name of all that’s sacred has been going on here?!”

It was Amagai, slowly staggering his way down the corridor toward them. Akari cringed. Her troubles clearly weren’t over yet.

A small part of her, though, felt pleased and proud. How fascinating that a mere human could actually slay a fearsome yokai. Even one as powerful as that horrible Nue…

∗∗∗

A few days after the incident at the residence, Munakata took Akari out for breaded pork cutlets at a restaurant in the city.

The cutlets were deep-fried in oil, and the juicy pork inside was lovingly coated with crispy brown bread crumbs.

“I apologize.”

Akari stared at Munakata, fork poised in midair. A man was apologizing to her? And not just any man, but a military man? And not just any military man, but Munakata…?

In this era of rampant male chauvinism, it was an absurdity for any man to apologize to a woman, no matter the transgression. And a military man even ranked above high-status positions like stationmaster and school headmaster in the societal pecking order. How could such a man be apologizing and lowering his head to Akari of all people, in a public place like this?

By her side, Tomohito snorted derisively.

“You should be apologizing! Not only did Mistress Akari risk her life, she also suffered terribly in the aftermath of it!”

“You’re right, Tomohito. After that traumatizing mission, I had to deal with your mother-hen clucking for what felt like hours.”

“What?!”

Akari took a delicate sip of water as she shot Tomohito a haughty look.

It was true, though. She’d had a rough time of it. After the Nue extermination, Akari had been so weak she’d been forced to let Tomohito carry her home. The following day, too, her whole body had ached so badly that she was barely able to get out of bed.

Tomohito had been delighted, and his fussing over her had somehow made her feel even more exhausted. In the end, she’d banned him from her room, a rule helpfully enforced by Mayoi.

Akari put her fork down and looked Munakata square in the eye. She still hated the man’s guts, of course. But a double helping of breaded pork cutlets made his apology a whole lot easier to swallow.

“It’s fine. You paid me as promised and even treated me to some excellent pork cutlets, so it’s fine. Really.”

Besides, once she got home, Mayoi would be serving something she called niku jaga, a meat-and-potato dish the navy had apparently brought back from foreign lands. Akari had even splurged and bought beef, just for the occasion.

She’d already said all that she wanted to say to Munakata. There was no benefit in holding a grudge, especially when he’d been so earnest in his apology. He had to realize that.

So then why the groveling? What was his angle? Akari had to admit it was refreshing, though. No man had ever apologized to her before, in all her years at the company.

“Then I’ll say no more. Only, Miss Mitsukuri… Out of curiosity, what did you do to that Amagai fellow?”

Munakata was back to his usual blunt self, but his expression right now was hard to read.

“What are you talking about?”

“Second Lieutenant Amagai is the son of a prominent Narrator family, and, well, he hates being assigned any duty that doesn’t directly involve narrating. I sent you with him because I hoped he’d feel the pressure to step up and be an example, but that doesn’t seem to have been the case at all.”

Akari pursed her lips. Of course they stuck her with the problem case. But never mind that. Why was Munakata staring at her as if she were some sort of rare animal?

“Yeah, what ended up happening with Amagai? Did he complain about my performance during the mission?”

In the aftermath of the Nue slaying, Amagai had taken charge of the cleanup and ordered Akari to return home.

What came about after that was a mystery to her. But Munakata was still wearing that unreadable expression. It looked to Akari like a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

“Second Lieutenant Amagai has suspended himself without pay as penance for his oversights during the mission. It is a crime to narrate from a stranger’s Kotogatari, no matter the circumstances or one’s rank. Additionally, he failed to neutralize the Nue threat. Usually, such failures would be grounds for instant demotion. But Amagai has been repentant and has taken disciplinary measures against himself, as I said.”

“What?”

Akari was truly shocked by this. Amagai had struck her as a very prideful man. He could have so easily passed all the blame onto Akari for her renegade actions, but he hadn’t. How odd.

Munakata leaned in closer, regarding Akari with what looked like ever deepening curiosity.

“He did say something interesting, though. He said you’d make a fine Narrator. In fact, he said he would never have come up with the idea of narrating the way you did—taking that Kotogami spirit into your own body, I mean. I’ve never heard the lieutenant say something so complimentary about another person before. It made my skin crawl.”

“He said…what?”

Ignoring Akari’s disbelief, Munakata continued speaking with visible fascination.

“Your aptitude surprised me too, in truth. I can scarcely believe you were able to actually read the cursive script Kansuke Mishima’s book was written in. I was honestly very surprised indeed.”

“Well, I have this acquaintance. Kind of an eccentric. We exchange letters, and they always write in various calligraphic styles. I learned that type of cursive from deciphering my friend’s letters, you know?”

The person in question had been something like a guardian to Akari, and after she’d gone out into the world all on her own, they’d continued to send her letters, keeping in touch out of concern for her. It was weird, though. The letters were written with all different styles of calligraphy, as if each were written by a different hand. A strange ability to have, especially nowadays when printed text was all the rage. But as a result, Akari could read pretty much any writing, no matter how illegibly written it might seem to others.

But Akari’s self-deprecating explanation only made Munakata scrunch up his face as if he were sucking on a sour plum.

Akari blinked at him. Was it something I said? But the next moment, he recomposed his features back into his usual bored with life face.

“Listen, hadn’t you better start considering doing the Narrator thing for real?”

Akari was speechless, eyes boggling in horror. What a thing to suggest so casually! She was literally only staying at the Bookhouse for the free perks and benefits. These rave reviews she was getting about her so-called aptitude were starting to give her the willies.

“Haha, very funny.”

“Those abilities of yours will make you an immediate asset as a Narrator. You’ve got grit, and you’re able to think clearly under pressure. Yes, you’ll need some training, but you can handle a bit of studying. And branch offices like that Bookhouse are meant for Narrators, you know, not homeless waifs and strays off the street. Why not make it your own?”

Munakata just kept on talking. Even worse, he looked completely serious. Akari stayed silent, wondering how she was going to get out of this. How many more times did she have to tell these people that she didn’t like books and didn’t want anything to do with them?

She was surprised by what Amagai had said, though. She’d thought he’d hated her. Also, Munakata’s praise had tickled her just a little. But no. Her mind was made up.

“Mistress Akari will not become a Narrator.”

Tomohito spoke in a firm but gentle voice just then, saving her the trouble.

Akari looked at him in astonishment. He was wearing his usual placid smile, but as she caught his eye, he tilted his head curiously.

“What is it, Mistress? Am I wrong?”

“No…no, you’re right.”

Tomohito had always seemed so desperate to keep Akari in the Bookhouse, so she was amazed that he appeared to respect her wishes all of a sudden. Still, there was no need to go digging into his motivations. Instead, she just shrugged.

Munakata watched the exchange between the two of them with a pensive frown. Then he, too, shrugged and changed the subject.

“Well, anyway. You should be more careful in the future. Spirits are still spirits, no matter how well we humans can mold them to our service. You got lucky this time. Perhaps that’s all there is to it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never do that again.”

Akari dismissed Munakata’s warning. Ouch. Her body was still sore.

And at any rate, Kansuke had already told her he’d never repeat her little spirit possession experiment. Apparently, her body had been “cumbersome and annoying to control.”

“Fine, then. Just enjoy reading normal-people books like the normal person you are.”

Munakata backed down with a sigh. But then his face grew serious again.

He could turn the military spirit on and off, it seemed.

“One last thing. When the Nue emerged from the Kotogatari, did you notice anything unusual?”

“I don’t know; I wasn’t there for that. But I did see the Kotogatari book itself… It was all frayed and falling apart.”

“Yes, the tome we retrieved is beyond repair. But the damage was caused by the Nue itself as it broke free from its pages.”

Tomohito raised his brows, as if instantly picking up on what Munakata was inferring.

“So you think the Nue appeared not because the book was old and failing, but because of some other reason?”

“Yes. I also heard there were other books there that day, ones that held accumulations of negative energies? Recently, such evil entities have been materializing and causing a lot of trouble. The Narrators are trying to get to the bottom of this phenomenon.”

“Is there something going on, then?”

Akari and Tomohito exchanged glances. Then Tomohito gasped a little, as if remembering something.

“I believe there was a strange sound, just before the evil energy manifested.”

“Wait, what?”

“I might have just been imagining it… But there was a record playing right after that, as I recall.”

“Yes, I heard that too. That’s one of my company’s products. It’s a gramophone within a grandfather clock. I figured the owner is a customer.”

Munakata listened to their conversation without comment before addressing Akari.

“Miss Mitsukuri, where do you work again?”

“Sumimata Corporation. The grandfather clock in that residence is one of our large gramophone-style ones. They play records automatically at designated times. It’s one of our most popular products among our wealthy clientele.”

Of course, Akari wasn’t actively involved in the business’s trade herself, but she knew about its product lineup from working there.

“I see…”

“Mr. Munakata, is it all right if I order dessert?”

Munakata looked back at her in silence, arms crossed, lips pursed in distaste.

“Seriously? You’re not full yet?”

“I don’t want to miss this chance to eat really good food. But I do have dinner waiting for me tonight. An iced cream should bridge the gap nicely.”

“That sounds great, Mistress. I’d like one too.”

“…Fine. So no other problems since the job?”

Akari thought about her persisting, samurai-shaped problem back at the Bookhouse, and her expression stiffened.

Munakata picked up on this immediately.

“What is it?”

“What do you do if a Kotogami you’ve manifested refuses to leave?”

“Why, did that happen? Poor you. You’d think Tomohito hanging around like a bad smell would be trouble enough…”

Munakata leaned forward with interest as Akari explained the current situation. She was so engrossed in what she was saying, she never noticed the look on Tomohito’s face.

After topping off the meal with an iced cream apiece, Akari and Tomohito returned to the Bookhouse feeling well satisfied. There, they found Kansuke’s large body sprawled on the sofa in the living room, napping. An empty booze container and some snack wrappings lay on the floor nearby. He’d clearly been hitting the bottle. Akari didn’t remember buying those snacks, though.

Opening his eyes lazily, Kansuke raised a hand in greeting.

“Ah, you’re home. How were the pork cutlets?”

“Delicious. Where did those snacks come from?”

“I picked them up as a reward to myself for doing the grocery shopping.”

“That’s what I thought. Why are you still out of your book? It’s been ages since I manifested you. Why are you still here?”

After Kansuke had transformed back from a samurai sword into human form that day, he had sort of…lingered.

He should have been able to return to his Kotogatari by himself, but instead he’d been lounging around the Bookhouse, knocking back the alcohol and napping on the sofa like a slob. Even worse, he’d been going outside to buy himself snacks, carrying his Kotogatari around with him.

The Bookhouse was big enough that he wasn’t really in Akari’s way, and it was sort of useful having someone else around to pick up the groceries. But…Kotogami were supposed to disperse after a certain period of manifestation, weren’t they?

She’d asked Munakata if it could last several days, but he’d informed her that a single narration should have been effective for up to twenty-four hours only. Kansuke should have made his exit by now.

Upon hearing this, Munakata had closed his eyes as if pained by a sudden headache.

“This is highly abnormal. The only oddity around here that I know of who outlasts his initial narration should be Tomohito alone. What did you do?”

“I mean, I just…spoke of my honest feelings about Kansuke…”

“A Kotogami manifests into form by the power of a Narrator’s words, and this power is what sustains them. Once that power is used up, the Kotogami vanishes. Attempting to force it and remain in this form will only lead to the Kotogatari itself breaking down. And yet, Kansuke’s book still retains its condition, does it not?”

“Yes, it does. In fact, it even looks a bit cleaner and newer than before.”

“That must have been some narration. What exactly did you say—that’s what I’d like to know…”

Akari had already tried to evade his question and would offer nothing further. Munakata sighed at her with great annoyance. Jerk. Akari would remember that.

Ultimately, Munakata had told her to leave Kansuke be if he wasn’t harming anyone. It was clear that Munakata didn’t want to be bothered looking into the issue any further.

Remembering his irked scowl, Akari gritted her teeth. Just then, Kansuke hauled himself upright to a sitting position on the sofa, crossing his legs beneath him.

“Let’s think about it. Clearly, your narration struck a chord with me. That happens sometimes, you know.”

“This is correct. When a Narrator’s reading aligns with the true soul of a Kotogami, the manifestation period can be greatly elongated.”

“Yes, Munakata said as much…”

Tomohito’s interjection confirmed what Munakata had told her, but Akari remained unconvinced.

“So then why haven’t you tried to attack me?”

Kansuke’s dark rumored past as “LordSlayer” had become a curse, leading him to turn his sword on any Narrator, or “lord,” who called him forth. And yet, the past few days had passed without any sudden fits of murderous intent from Kansuke.

Instead, he’d been working his way through her finest booze, sharing meals with her, and welcoming her home after each workday.

The frightening demigod version of Kansuke Mishima was nowhere to be seen. Akari was even starting to wonder if she’d imagined it. But she could still see him swinging his sword at Amagai’s head every time she closed her eyes.

Kansuke watched her from his position on the sofa. He clearly knew what she was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, I think I might know the reason behind that.”

“Really?”

Kansuke gave her a sharklike grin.

“I’ve already had two lords die on me. Making it a triple would just be too cliché.”

“Are you serious?”

Akari sat down on the sofa beside Kansuke to give her tired legs a rest. Was this really the time for flippancy? But then he put his big hand warmly on top of her head.

She glanced at him in surprise and saw a look of such fondness and warmth that she was shocked for a moment. Oddly, she had the feeling it wasn’t actually being directed at her.

What are you looking at? she wanted to say, but then Kansuke actually began ruffling her hair affectionately, rendering her speechless.

“And besides, any way you look at it, you’re not my lord, little girly.”

Akari pursed her lips, unimpressed by his ongoing facetiousness.

“I don’t even want to be your lord. Ugh, how annoying. Look, I brought you something. Do you want it?”

“Ah! What is it?”

“It’s a new type of liquor from the West. It’s called Scotch.”

Tomohito lifted the bottle of amber liquid from the bag with his gloved hands and held it high. Kansuke’s eyes gleamed with appreciation.

“Allow me to rephrase! You may not be my lord…er, lady…but you are my Mistress and I shall obey!”

Akari knew Kansuke was only hamming it up, but she was pleased all the same as she took the bottle from Tomohito’s hand and gave it to Kansuke.

“Make sure you savor it. It’s rare stuff.”

“I’ve already gotten a pretty good buzz, but I think I can manage another glass, since it looks very fine indeed.”

As Kansuke grinned at her, Mayoi suddenly appeared in the living room.

“Welcome home, Mistress. Dinner is prepared. Are you ready to eat?”

“Oh, yes! I’ve been looking forward to this niku jaga dish I’ve heard so much about!”

Akari jumped to her feet in excitement. Cradling the bottle of Western booze, Kansuke followed suit.

“The perfect time to crack this open and have a taste-test! Western cuisine with some Western spirits… Wait, why the face?”

“Don’t you dare go eating my portion as well as yours!”

“I don’t eat that much, you stingy mare.”

Akari narrowed her eyes at him before heading to the door. Snack thief. But wait. That was odd. Tomohito wasn’t leading the way as he usually did.

He was still standing by where they’d stashed the bags, his eyes narrowed. His expression was one of deep, unrequited longing.

“What’s wrong, Tomohito? Let’s go and eat dinner.”

“…It’s nothing, Mistress. I’ll bring your bags to your room and be right down.”

“Oh, that can wait. Actually, I can do it myself later.”

She was hungry, yes. But she didn’t want to eat while someone else was doing her errands for her. But Tomohito simply picked up the bags with his white-gloved hands and frowned.

“This is a job I enjoy. Being of use to one’s mistress is what makes a servant his happiest.”

“Er, really?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Akari shrugged and decided to drop it. Tomohito was acting as if he were a puppy and she was trying to take away his favorite chew toy.

“All right. Thank you, then.”

“Certainly, Mistress. I shall be along shortly.”

With his usual crisp bow, Tomohito left the room.

Akari watched him go, feeling as though something was wrong. He wasn’t his usual perky self. Had something happened?

Shrugging, Akari turned to head to the dining room. But Kansuke hadn’t gone ahead as she’d thought—he was standing there waiting for her.

“Hmm? What is it, Kansuke?”

“Ah… Never mind.”

For a second there, Kansuke’s eyes had been glinting with a sharp light. But the next moment, he wore his usual mild expression again. Hmm, thought Akari, nonetheless heading over to join Mayoi, who was gazing at her with an excited, expectant look on her little face.

∗∗∗

KANSUKE Mishima had felt the lingering remnants of the power Akari had invoked in him dissipating.

And yet, it seemed he could still roam freely around this Bookhouse. He felt no particular inconvenience from the lack of power. Why not stay awhile?

Kansuke found his thoughts returning to the girl who’d summoned him.

Black hair tied neatly back, a little poor looking. The kind of girl you could find anywhere. And yet, the way the words had rolled so lightly off her tongue as she’d narrated his Kotogatari…it resonated with Kansuke’s very soul.

In the few days he’d spent around her, it had become clear that she had no interest in stories and that she’d received no training as a Narrator.

But her narration… It was a perfect composition, like a traditional poem. An invocation of the gods. A true narration.

Kansuke had never been able to remain materialized for so long from just a single narration.

And he found himself glad…glad to still be here. How odd.

When he looked into her earnest, deep-brown eyes he recalled his sister, not his lord. Perhaps that was why.

Akari had called Kansuke a “hero among warriors,” but he knew he was worthless. His sister, however, used to say the same thing.

“You are the finest hero in all the land, big brother.”

Whenever Kansuke left for one of his lord’s certain-death missions, she was the only member of his family to come and see him off. And each time, her words gave him courage. When his lord had started to become corrupt and Kansuke was preparing for what had to be done, his sister was by his side. But he hadn’t been able to save her, in the end.

Just remembering what happened made the blood rush to Kansuke’s head.

When his lord had forced him to look upon his sister’s corpse, laughing at him, Kansuke had indeed felt his soul sink to the depths, felt himself becoming a demigod. Yes, his soul had been tainted; there was no denying that.

Yet, even while knowing that about him, Akari had given him a glowing narration.

And that narration had done something to him. It had brought the memory of his sister’s lovely smile back to his heart.

If Akari refused to become a Narrator, then that was her business. But Kansuke had made a decision: to be the sort of man she’d described as she narrated his book.

Perhaps he had unfinished business here after all.

Kansuke ascended the stairs and reached the second floor of the Bookhouse, where a shadow stepped forth.

It was Tomohito, glowering at him. Kansuke raised a hand in greeting.

“Nice night, eh, Tomohito?”

“What are you doing? There’s nothing on this floor except for Mistress Akari’s room.”

Akari may not have been familiar with this cold, unflinching stare of Tomohito’s, but Kansuke knew it of old. Never before had he seen Tomohito so desperately devoted to any human, though…

Not wanting to get into an argument, Kansuke got straight to the point.

“I didn’t come here to see the young girly; I came to see you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you. And it is an improper hour to be visiting a lady in her room, so please go back downstairs at once.”

So she’s been teaching you about the customs of human ladies, has she? Kansuke fought back a smirk.

Then he jerked his chin at the white gloves Tomohito wore.

“Not going to take those off?”

“…I am still on duty.”

“Never mind that. Show me your hands.”

Tomohito’s face fell as Kansuke regarded him solemnly. The young Kotogami curled his white-gloved hands into fists, perhaps unconsciously.

Kansuke had already noticed that Tomohito had been wearing the gloves constantly for the past few days. And Kansuke knew what the Kotogami was trying to hide too.

“Why don’t you take them off?”

“There is no real reason.”

Kansuke narrowed his eyes at Tomohito, who remained stubborn but seemed to waver ever so slightly.

Why was Kansuke here, anyway? His Kotogatari was a banned book. How had it ended up in this Bookhouse? Actually, Kansuke knew why. It was because of this Kotogami. He had been brought here as insurance, as defense against Tomohito, if the worst-case scenario should occur.

The samurai Kansuke Mishima had been the strongest force against evil spirits and demons that had ever walked the earth. As such, his Kotogami could be considered physically superior to all the others in existence. If one possessed the original Kansuke Mishima Kotogatari, one had nothing to fear, even in a house full of book spirits.

This was even more true because he was an original text and not a copy. And yet he had been left to linger on a shelf.

The Kotogami Tomohito Yagyou, however, had been wandering about calmly and freely and, more importantly, unguarded ever since Kansuke had been brought to the Bookhouse.

None of the Narrators who had been assigned here had noticed anything strange.

Tomohito had always kept himself at a reserved distance from those Narrators, and as such they had confused him for a weak spirit, only fit for clerical work. Even while helping Mayoi, he had made sure to keep himself inconspicuous.

From his shelf, Kansuke had been surprised when Tomohito began wandering the city, and even more surprised when he had brought home a human. Not just any human either, but a human woman at that.

Even from within his Kotogatari, Kansuke had observed how Tomohito fussed over the young lady. His estimation of Tomohito had come crashing down when he’d seen that.

The Tomohito Yagyou whom Kansuke knew was a crafty beast. And dangerous too.

He’d been docile so far, but he could change in a second if he found something that interested him. But why had he brought that ordinary-looking woman to the Bookhouse? Kansuke had been burning with curiosity at first. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Tomohito frowned at him now, still grasping the hand that had been burned by Kansuke’s mystical sword.

“Please do not tell Mistress Akari how bad it is.”

“You’re bound to her, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Before that girl had come along, Kansuke had never seen Tomohito act so human.

But he’d already figured out why.

“Even though she’s the reason you were enshrined in a Kotogatari in the first place?”

All expression drained from Tomohito’s face.

Kansuke continued before Tomohito could say anything else.

“I saw flashes of what went down between you two when I was inside her body.”

“Ah, I see now. You and Akari joined souls in one body, sharing minds, memories. I have heard of such things occurring.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I understand why you did what you did. But I can’t figure out your endgame. If you wanted to finish her off, why bring me along for protection? And why bring her here in the first place, if not as a potential Narrator?”

Kansuke kept pressing as Tomohito’s shoulders relaxed just a little.

The samurai had only been able to view disjointed fragments of Akari’s childhood memories, but if what he saw was true, then he knew why Tomohito was so fixated on the girl. And yet, his actions were so contradictory.

“What do you intend to do to her?”

Kansuke touched the sword hanging at his waist as he pushed the issue further.

At a range this close, and with Tomohito being the way he was right now, Kansuke could take him down. And if he really did mean to harm the girl, then Kansuke had no qualms with executing him right then and there.

Nevertheless, despite seeming to pick up on Kansuke’s readiness to murder, Tomohito merely smiled beautifully.

“I will do nothing to her. My only wish is to see that sweet child happy once more.”

That sweet child…? Kansuke was taken aback.

“A story has to have a happy ending, after all, don’t you agree?”

As Kansuke gazed at Tomohito’s angelic face, the meaning behind those words began to sink in.

“Human beings need family, and a happy home. I took both away from her. But she has a tendency to attract the attentions of beasts. I wanted to be prepared, just in case…”

In his mind, Kansuke could see a little girl crying out from loneliness: Akari. And the cause of her loneliness was…

“Don’t tell me…you manifested Mayoi and me just for…”

“Leave Mayoi out of it. As for you…I don’t much like you, but I do respect your strength. You’re the only one who could take me on, after all.”

Kansuke grimaced as Tomohito shrugged glibly.

Does this Kotogami realize what he’s saying? Kansuke thought.

In other words, Tomohito trusted Kansuke’s strength. This warmed the samurai’s heart a little, he had to admit, as Akari’s trust in him had also done. But Kansuke pasted on a scowl to hide his blushing.

“There was never any guarantee I’d take to the young girly. I could have snapped her neck just as easily, you know.”

“No, I knew you would like her. There is no more conscientious reader alive than Mistress Akari. But I broke that part of her, and I intend to put it right.”

Tomohito’s smile was warm, inviting trust. But Kansuke still frowned.

Was Tomohito not aware of the pain and anguish that was so clearly visible behind that smile?

No, surely he was not. Kansuke sighed, running his hands through his hair and tugging at it.

“All right, all right. But you get this one favor, got that?”

“Why the attitude? As far as I see it, I’ve done you a favor and got you out of your musty old book.”

“That snotty, oblivious attitude of yours is why the young girly is always losing her temper with you.”

“Is it?!”

Kansuke took his hand off his sword, snorting a little at Tomohito’s bewildered expression.

“So, how long have you got?”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Make sure not to leave any regrets.”

“You don’t need to remind me.”

Kansuke patted Tomohito on the shoulder and headed downstairs to his own room.

This was their story—Tomohito’s and Akari’s. Kansuke knew that. It wasn’t for him to understand. And so, he would withdraw.

“I wonder what the young girly would make of it all if she knew…”

She went around telling everyone she hated stories, not realizing the truth.

What would she do, when she found out the truth about the real identity of Tomohito Yagyou? This innocent girl, who had been unable to believe the worst of a cursed old samurai like him?

That night, Kansuke thought deeply about it all, rubbing his jaw distractedly for a long time.