3 bar menu

V11 Story I – Part 01

A girl scattered flowers on the streets.

Vibrant red petals danced in the nighttime air. Seeds spilled onto the asphalt. Within the pool of light cast by the streetlamp, the girl leaped and twirled like a dancer. But suddenly, her feet came to a stop.

Sensing the gaze of spectators, she turned around. Her black cloak fluttered in the air.

The girl gave a deep bow. “And now, the curtain rises,” she proclaimed amidst the falling red petals. “Ladies and gentlemen, gather around and pay close attention.”

At her feet, seeds cracked open. Ignoring the proclamation, they broke through their tough shells, sprouting fresh shoots. Their growth resembled skin splitting open, swarms of insects pouring out.

“What you are about to witness is truly extraordinary. A tale steeped in absurdity and desire.”

The stems shot straight for the sky. Then abruptly, red flowers bloomed at their tips.

Gigantic flowers proudly faced the heavens. Their thick petals rustled like a woman’s lips curled into a smile.

“At last, the beginning of the end begins. Ladies and gentlemen, don’t miss a moment. Watch leisurely until the curtain falls.”

The girl made her gentle announcement to an unseen, perhaps nonexistent audience.

With a bow, she turned, cloak flaring behind her. And then, she vanished.

All that remained were scattered petals.

And thus, the end began.

---

Leaping out of the illegally parked car, I slammed the door shut behind me. I raced across the road beneath the gray sky until I reached a modest prefab house, and stopped at its simple door. Raising my arm, I pounded on it relentlessly, the cold metal meeting my fist again and again.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

My knuckles creaked beneath the leather gloves. I ignored the intercom and kept on pounding.

Eventually, the door opened slowly, revealing a boyish man with glasses. Wearing a knit cardigan over his shirt, with his long hair casually tied back, he looked like a sleep-deprived academic.

In a voice devoid of a sense of urgency, he uttered a familiar line. “Oh… welcome?” He paused. “Who are you again?”

Glancing past his thin shoulders, I stared at the entrance. Bright red momentarily filled my vision.

I remembered the body with the missing hands, collapsed at the entrance. I closed and reopened my eyes. Then, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. Azuma tilted his head lazily. I applied pressure with my palm.

“Nice to meet you, Azuma-san,” I greeted. “Please turn yourself in.”

“…I’d like to know what this is about.”

Though puzzled, he responded to me, a stranger.

And so, the serial killer, Katsumi Azuma, opened the door wide.

---

“The source of the Mayuzumi clan’s ability—the woman who was eaten alive,” Mayuzumi said not long after I woke up.

Lying on the bed, I recounted a particular tale.

Long ago, the Mayuzumi clan, wealthy farmers in Matsushiro, served as village leaders. One day, the villagers came to them to complain about a demon, so they captured and killed it, drinking its blood. But it wasn’t a demon at all.

“They ate a person alive?”

Did they eat what they shouldn’t have eaten?

Seated by my bedside in a hospital room, Mayuzumi nodded. The black lily on her headdress swayed. Her dress, resembling mourning attire, was both lovely and sinister.

Waking up from a nightmare, unsure what day it was, I mulled over Mayuzumi’s words. My breathing grew rough, and the scent of medicine burned my lungs.

Unconcerned about my bafflement, she continued speaking, uttering twisted words.

“Strictly speaking, she wasn’t human. She was something else in the shape of a human.”

They ate a human being, but it wasn’t actually human. My head throbbed with confusion, and my nails dug into my left hand. Then, I felt a weight on me—Shirayuki wrapping me in her embrace.

She glanced at me briefly with a smile, and I leaned on her shoulder. Yusuke offered a faint smile. I turned my attention back to Mayuzumi. She shrugged before resuming her story.

“Long ago, children who grew too fast or whose teeth grew early, or those with spiritual abilities, were abandoned in the mountains as demons. She was just a human who luckily survived. But at the same time, she wasn’t human. Because she wasn’t human, inevitably, she survived in the mountains.”

Human, yet not human. Then what was she?

A demon, a god, a monster?

Mayuzumi provided the answer. “Think about it. Is it not strange? The Mayuzumi clan gained supernatural abilities through the consumption of a human they called a demon. But logically, ingesting flesh shouldn’t inherently grant power. It’s merely biological material. I’ve been thinking about this perplexing inconsistency for quite some time… and entering your dreams has solidified my suspicions. Here’s a simple question: what would happen if a human ate the flesh of a deity?”

Mayuzumi mused softly, nibbling on a piece of chilled chocolate, which in this situation, looked like human flesh.

“The term ‘deity’ feels inadequate. Such entities don’t belong in our realm. However, she possessed abilities befitting such a title. Under different circumstances, she might have been revered as a saint. Her body was human, but her soul was something different altogether. A rare mutation within humanity—and this is the consequence of senselessly and brutally killing her.”

“The woman’s soul was cast adrift in the empty shores of the afterlife while she was still alive. She was merely a soul, but being alive meant she couldn’t cross over. With nowhere else to go, she took residence in the shores of the afterlife, and became ruler of the spirit world. The spirit world responds to whatever it consumes, shaping itself accordingly. It mirrors the memories and subconscious desires of the individual. I believe the regular state of the spirit world is a reflection of the woman’s existence.”

Mayuzumi’s words stirred a lump in my throat. Memories of that crimson, repulsive place flooded back. The notion that such a realm could be shaped by individual influence seemed ridiculous, but strangely plausible.

That place, after all, bore a resemblance to the inside of a human stomach or a womb.

Mayuzumi systematically dismantled my preconceptions of the spirit world. “The realm reflects the memories of wandering souls only because she permits it. Surely, you’ve experienced vividly recreated memories yourself?”

I recalled the resplendent cherry blossoms. The fox-masked storyteller standing under the shower of petals.

That spectacle must have been the manifestation of the fox’s desires. However, the recreation was uncannily vivid. As the fox’s tale unfolded, it wouldn’t have been strange for there to be people flower viewing.

“She rules the spirit world. Perhaps my own abilities stem from my strong connection with her.” Mayuzumi paused. “In essence, they’re not mine. A rather bitter realization, if I do say so myself.”

My befuddled mind struggled to absorb the conversation. Mayuzumi claimed that her powers weren’t truly hers. Despite being hailed as a living deity due to her extraordinary supernatural abilities, if those powers were merely borrowed…

“Then the scarlet woman…”

“Yes. The progenitor is vastly superior to me. I am human, not a pure demon. It’s quite vexing. Well, the time may be near,” she murmured, shaking her head with a deliberate motion. “I hadn’t perceived her for quite some time. She was likely hiding herself. And now she stepped out into the open. I have a bad feeling about it. So annoying.”

“What do you mean by the time being near? Oh right, I recall seeing something sinister.”

The nightmares resurfaced with an almost oppressive force. A girl in black facing off against a woman in red. A slender frame in a red dress, and a voluptuous body in a red kimono. The scene exuded a mix of allure and ominous dread.

The woman approached Mayuzumi, and like a predator, seized her lips in a devouring kiss. Her thick lips melded with the girl’s.

Licking her lips with a wet tongue, the woman whispered sweetly. “What I truly need is not plain entertainment. But a being that can soothe me. You’ve realized it too, haven’t you? What I genuinely desire is you and only you, Mayuzumi Azaka.”

Her confession smoldered with intensity. A shiver ran down my spine.

The child within me cried. My face tensed.

Mayuzumi regarded me, saying, “She’s moved past seeking vengeance against the Mayuzumi clan, and instead wants a plaything that could give her comfort. A year in the spirit world is a hundred years in the mortal realm. And only demons can provide solace to a demon. Humans are fragile. Only I, who share the blood of those who consumed a demon, can sate her desires.”

Mayuzumi wore a curious look, and she let out a weary sigh.

“Did you forget, Odagiri-kun? Mayuzumi Azaka is destined to be killed.”