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V13 Story I – Part 05

I stepped out of the taxi and squinted against the bright morning light.

After leaving Nanami’s place, I caught an express train from the station. By the time I reached Nagano, it was already late, and it was past midnight when I finally arrived at my destination. Waking someone up in the middle of the night wasn’t an option—especially since I came to ask for help—so I booked a room at a nearby inn and rested until morning.

I came with nothing but the clothes on my back. It was pretty much a spur of the moment, but I somehow managed. I felt a small sense of relief knowing I’d made it to the vicinity of my destination. But the real challenge was just beginning. I breathed in the cold morning air and steeled myself before glancing back at the path I had taken.

In front of me stretched a neat townscape of brand-new buildings, starkly contrasting with the surrounding forested mountains. Though I shouldn’t have been far from the Mayuzumi estate, it felt as if I had stepped into a different world. Until I reached this area, there had only been old, scattered buildings nestled among the mountains. But as soon as I crossed into this district, everything changed.

This town was established over the past decade or so as part of a large-scale development project. The meticulously arranged roadside trees, and the clean, white ready-built houses made the area seem almost like a miniature garden. Designed with convenience in mind, the town had supermarkets, schools, and various facilities all within reach, ensuring residents could live a stress-free lifestyle without the need for long-distance travel. Yet, there was a noticeable disparity within the town.

It was built on a slope, with luxury homes increasing in number the higher you went. Residents here were constantly reminded of their social status and the gap between them and their neighbors, depending on where they lived. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine myself living in a place like this. I didn’t care about status, but the constant awareness of it was unappealing. Awareness breeds friction. Still, the highest area likely stood apart from even that.

That area had transformed into a strange space where the very concept of disparity seemed irrelevant.

I turned back to face the slope that led to the highest part of town. The wide, tree-lined road seemed to symbolize success, flanked by private residences. These houses, built on plots more than twice the size of average ones, were unmistakably luxury homes. That alone wasn’t particularly unusual. But this district had guards at its entrance. Unauthorized individuals weren’t even allowed to step onto the premises.

This area was reportedly owned by a company involved in the development project.

The Mayuzumi clan’s mansion stood eerily silent. It was daytime, but there wasn’t a sound.

I recalled the taxi driver’s words. He had called this place “Ghost Street.”

“You see people now and then, but they’re all so gloomy. There don’t seem to be any children, either. Some corporate bigwigs are supposed to live here, but no one ever visits. Makes you wonder what’s going on.”

He wasn’t far off. Those living here were likely closer to malevolent spirits. After the scarlet woman ordered Kotori to launch an assault, the main house suffered a devastating blow. Many of the power holders died, and the balance of power between the main and branch families flipped. The branch family, which had always managed the business side of things, probably seized the opportunity to overhaul the old system. The remaining occupants were likely survivors of the main family, who had lost their status and had nowhere else to go. These were the people who had once ruled the Mayuzumi clan from behind the scenes, wielding the power of a living god. The guards weren’t just there to keep outsiders out. They were also there to prevent anyone inside from leaving without proper reason.

This place was, in essence, a modern-day prison disguised as a luxurious final residence.

I glanced at the card in my hand. Printed on high-quality paper, it looked like a business card, bearing only an address and a map. When I showed it to the guard earlier, I was granted immediate access. I recalled the surprised look on the taxi driver’s face. I climbed the slope and headed to the third house.

I pressed the doorbell, and after a moment, a woman appeared. Her emotionless eyes locked onto mine. She descended the stairs and unlatched the gate.

Bowing deeply, she said in a deep voice, “We’ve been expecting you. Please, follow me.”

There was an elevation between the slope and the mansion. I followed her up the western-style stairs. The terraced garden was planted with seasonal flowers. An elderly man was tending to the plants, trimming branches and leaves. Likely the gardener, he quietly worked on the now deserted garden.

Spring was just around the corner. Once the weather warmed, the garden would be filled with vibrant flowers. But I wondered if the mansion’s sole resident even appreciated such beauty. I stepped inside. The house was just as silent as the outside, devoid of any sound.

Without glancing back, the woman led me through the lifeless, empty interior.

Eventually, she reached the door of the farthest room. She grasped the heavy metal doorknob and slowly turned it.

“This way, please.”

The door slowly opened, revealing a surprisingly small room. The woman stepped back and quietly made her way back down the hallway. I watched her shadowy figure fade into the distance before turning my attention to the room. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. It took a few seconds for me to realize why. A piano stood against the wall, a porcelain bear sat on a chair, dresses for girls lined the walls, and light blue ribbons were tied to the curtains. Chinese porcelain lay half-buried under piles of papers.

I recognized these items. They once cluttered Mayuzumi’s room. Things I thought had been lost were now crammed into this space.

The room resembled a lively toy box, and among the pile of junk sat a familiar figure.

The scene felt like a snapshot of the past. He sat elegantly on the chair, legs crossed.

At his feet lay a doll, splayed out like a corpse. Noticing my presence, he slowly lifted his head. The light filtering through the curtains illuminated his pale features. His white hair gleamed instead of a fox mask. He gazed at me with hollow eyes, and his dry lips moved slowly.

“Ah, it’s you.”

I couldn’t make sense of the sight before me. What sort of grief was he feeling?

Mayuzumi Asato was holding a red parasol in his arms.

“What happened, Asato? And this room… what are all these things?”

“What do you think, Odagiri? Even with your slow brain, you must have figured it out by now. Surely, you haven’t forgotten. A dog doesn’t easily forget its master’s belongings. These all belonged to the dead—Mayuzumi Azaka, my sister,” Asato replied casually.

It was obvious, really. The room was packed with Mayuzumi Azaka’s possessions, from corner to corner. A familiar scent hung faintly in the air. The smell ingrained into the items must be dispersing into the atmosphere. The room was filled with the sweet scent of chocolate.

I rubbed my eyes. I thought I saw Mayuzumi Azaka in the dim light filtering through the curtains, wandering around in her Gothic Lolita outfit. The hem of her dress fluttered as she kicked off the floor, spinning around aimlessly. Glancing at the pile of junk, she let out a sigh. Suddenly, she noticed me.

“What are you standing there for, Odagiri-kun? Planning to clean this room? Even you can’t manage that. Anyway, could you get me some hot chocolate?”

Her voice echoed in my ears, but in the next moment, her image faded away, leaving only silence. The room, now a cold, abandoned space filled with her personal effects, felt dreary. I swallowed. Mayuzumi Azaka wasn’t dead. But this place, filled with her possessions…

“It feels like a casket, doesn’t it? You wouldn’t be wrong.”

“What?”

“If this place feels like a casket to you, you’re not mistaken.”

Reading my thoughts, Asato cocked his head. He looked out the window. A few houses perched on higher ground were visible through the thick, lace-covered glass. The roofs were grand but lacked individuality, all evenly spaced. Asato turned back to me, a twisted smile playing on his lips, the kind of smile that suggested he couldn’t think of any other expression to wear.