3 bar menu

V12 Story IV – Part 02

The massive truck screeched to a halt. Its imposing presence left me awestruck.

The sun had risen, set, and the appointed time had arrived. Beneath the pink night sky, Mayuzumi and I gazed up at the truck. I stood with my mouth agape while Mayuzumi furrowed her brow in puzzlement. The large vehicle obstructed the narrow street in front of the twin buildings.

The door swung open, crashing against the wall of another building. Someone jumped out of the driver’s seat, her white hair cascading like a veil.

“Wh-What the…”

“Did you think it was Kugutsu? Sorry, it was me.”

“The Princess is naturally quite aggressive. Lately, she’s been even more proactive, which frankly worries me. But as long as she’s having fun, I suppose it’s all good.”

Kugutsu climbed out of the passenger seat wearily. He inspected the scratch on the driver’s side door with a regretful shake of his head. I wondered if Maihime even had a driver’s license.

Despite my sudden concern, her glittering eyes and proud posture made it feel tactless to inquire further. As I struggled to find the words to say, more people stumbled down from inside the truck.

The three of them squeezed through the narrow space between the wall and the truck. Yusuke, Shirayuki, and Yukihito fell to their knees. Behind them, several men in black suits followed suit, collapsing in worse conditions. Trembling, Shirayuki opened her fan and hastily wrote a short message with a pale face.

“Left, right, swaying.”

“I swear, I’m never going to be cargo again. Never,” Yusuke muttered with a newfound determination. Yukihito vigorously nodded in agreement.

I glanced up at the truck once more. It stood out as a colossal anomaly in the serene cityscape. Fortunately, the area around the abandoned buildings lay deserted. The office in one of the twin buildings that had temporarily closed had relocated. The business district was practically deserted at night, and the roads were tightly sealed off for supposed emergency roadwork.

This was the final assistance from the Mayuzumi clan, led by Sadashita, who aimed to rid their clan of the curse that plagued them. After completing preparations, he had regarded us with a hopeful gaze. The Mayuzumi clan yearned for change. They had acquired power by consuming people and now sought to relinquish both the blessings and the curse. I empathized with their sentiments.

They wanted to return to being ordinary humans, freed from the living god named Mayuzumi Azaka.

Mayuzumi Azaka’s abilities stemmed from her strong connection to the scarlet woman. If we killed the scarlet woman, there would never be another Mayuzumi Azaka born into the clan.

“So, is this the threshold you talked about? Quite intriguing.” Maihime’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“Indeed, it is,” Mayuzumi replied. “I’m not sure what you find intriguing about it, though.”

Maihime peered into the space between the buildings with a drowsy expression. Red flowers still lingered there. Maihime was an esper but had no significant connection to the spirit world. She shouldn’t be able to see it. Yet, she nodded in comprehension.

“I see… This is indeed a threshold.”

“Oh? You shouldn’t be able to see it,” Mayuzumi said.

“Puppeteers handle human emotions to some extent. This place is a cauldron of resentment. The space between windows and mirrors has transformed into a closed-off hell. It will serve as a suitable gate to the other side.”

Maihime ran her finger through the air, drawing a line over the red flowers with her sharp nails. Her white hair swayed like a veil as she turned to Mayuzumi.

With languid, spellbound eyes, she said, “Then, I see no reason to wait any longer. Shall we open a portal to the spirit world?”

“Let’s do that. There’s no point in dilly-dallying.”

Mayuzumi scanned the area. Several parasols, left by members of the Mayuzumi clan, leaned against the building walls. With a wave of her hand, one of them floated into the air, the slender handle settling into her palm.

Snap.

It opened, tracing a gentle arc as it fell, then started spinning unnaturally mid-air, before landing on the petals facing us. More red was added to the threshold like a new offering. Mayuzumi waved her hand again in a beckoning gesture.

Snap.

Another parasol appeared in her hand, which she threw into the threshold. The parasols lined up beside each other. She repeated this several times until the petals were completely covered.

Snap!

Even after the threshold’s floor was entirely blanketed, she continued to throw more parasols, stacking them on top of each other. They were stable. Without hesitation, Mayuzumi kept adding more.

Snap. Snap!

The parasols filling the dark threshold looked like red flowers in a casket. Soon, that impression changed. To say they were merely filling the threshold was an oversimplification. The vertically stacked parasols were building a red wall within the threshold.

Snap.

The parasols soared high, defying the laws of physics. One more row, and the wall would be complete. Though just a precariously balanced wall of paper, it felt overwhelmingly intimidating, like facing a menacing castle gate. I heard a gulp beside me.

I turned to see Yusuke standing nervously. He was holding something in his hand.

“Yusuke, is that what I think it is?”

“Oh, this? It’s fine. It’s for an entirely different purpose,” he said, gripping a bat. “Well, with Maihime and the clan head here, I doubt I’ll need to join in, but just to be safe.” His voice was calm. I could trust him.

I turned back to the red wall. Mayuzumi caught the last parasol in the air.

Snap.

Instead of throwing it, she rested it on her shoulder. The atmosphere shifted distinctly. The stagnant air took on a metallic scent, enveloping us like viscous blood.

The air trembled. I sensed a vast space beyond a thin barrier. It was warm, wet, and reeked of blood. Soft flesh pulsated close by, like the inside of a woman’s womb.

Standing firm, Mayuzumi quietly gazed at the towering wall. Her eyes seemed to pierce through, seeing something hidden inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Then, in a clear voice, she said, “Come, come, behold. It’s a sight worth seeing. A tale to be told for generations.”

On her shoulder, she spun the parasol. It twirled around, and the stacked parasols began to spin one after another, like interlocking gears.

The entire wall shifted dramatically. The petals at the bottom stirred, bursting like bubbles in boiling water.

“Ladies and gentlemen, gather around. Watch closely.”

Her familiar speech continued. Her voice was resonant, yet there was a hint of offhandedness in it. Suddenly, she closed and opened her eyes. Twirling the parasol, she looked ahead with a calm gaze.

Her expression was both stern, as if bracing for something, and serene, like someone who had endured through ages.

“This is Mayuzumi Azaka’s final performance,” she said, as if to herself.

Snap!

The parasol snapped shut. Instantly, the parasols forming the wall also closed, and the red wall vanished. The closed parasols floated in the air like countless needles. Just before they fell, Mayuzumi reopened her parasol.

All the parasols blossomed open at once, sending a whirlwind of red petals into the air. A storm of petals engulfed us, filling our vision with a brilliant, dazzling display.

Yukihito and the men in black screamed as the suffocating wave of petals hit them. Then it hit me; they could see this red color too. On closer inspection, the red that brushed against their bodies wasn’t just petals. Fragments of the broken space grazed their bodies, melting away. Parts of the real world were shattering along with the parasol wall.

Amidst the swirling red, Mayuzumi stood motionless. Beyond her calm gaze was a red, blood-soaked space. An otherworldly scene unfolded in the gap between the buildings. The bizarre sight, reminiscent of a womb, looked like the gates of hell open.

The spirit world was said to have originally been empty, but now, it had turned into the scarlet woman’s womb. Iron-scented, lukewarm air brushed my cheek. It also felt dry, like a summer breeze. Everything was eerie, mismatched, and ambiguous. Uka cried out loudly, excited. The scene resembled a gaping wound, and it was utterly silent. But soon, the walls of flesh began to wriggle.

Crude puppets rose. Faceless heads turned to look our way. Lacking both sight and hearing, they twisted their heads as if sensing the air’s disturbance. Then, like infants, they crawled toward us.

Plop, plop.

The masses of flesh, denizens of the abyss, advanced toward us. But these worm-like lumps struggled to move forward. Suddenly, a pair of slender, beautiful legs appeared between them.

Ting.

There was a sound, like the chiming of a bell.