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V13 Story II – Part 11

Asato pointed at the former Mayuzumi Azaka. He likely never even knew her real name.

“When you get right down to it, that thing in your belly came from her.” He laid down the facts indifferently. “I was the one who did it, but none of it was natural. And you expect me to pity the woman I killed? Don’t make me laugh. What good would that do? It wouldn’t bring any comfort. We’ve been down this road before. What do you expect from the former fox?” Asato twirled the parasol idly.

I chewed my lip. Indeed, I couldn’t fully understand his pain, his suffering, or his resentment towards his mother. Similarly, I would never truly grasp her regret. Pretending otherwise would be a lie. After what happened with Yusuke, I knew better—I could never fully comprehend another’s sorrow or pain. Asking him to feel pity for the one he killed was nothing but a performance, a demand to satisfy the audience.

I clenched my fists. Even so, I believed I wasn’t wrong.

I thought back to the words I once said to the fox. It was pointless if he didn’t regret his actions himself.

No matter what drove him to kill his mother, there was no justification for it. In fact, right or wrong didn’t matter. And I firmly believed that what I said was wrong.

Yet, I found myself still thinking about it. Having taken a life myself, I had to hold on to this belief without doubt.

No matter what, one must never take another’s life. The fox still didn’t understand this.

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything, the fox turned away. He faced the former Mayuzumi Azaka. She trembled again.

Asato wore a distasteful smile, twirling the parasol in a taunting manner. “A deep blue parasol, huh?” he said softly. “Mother, I didn’t expect to see you again. It’s a rare chance to hear your ramblings. As long as you stubbornly cling to this place, we have no choice but to stay as well. If you don’t disappear, we’re stuck here in this maze of confusion with no way out. So let me ask you again, Mother. If you’ve got something to say, then speak.”

Despite his provocation, the fox seemed to expect nothing. He looked up at the ceiling, smiling, sneering. His reaction was subtly different from his usual mockery—his expression was no longer fabricated. Then it hit me.

It wasn’t just her who was confused. The fox himself, Mayuzumi Asato, was also losing his mental stability. His repeated provocation was him begging her to say something. Of course, that was just my impression, but it didn’t seem far-fetched. Mayuzumi Asato sternly believed that he was a being shaped by human desires. He didn’t acknowledge his own desires and choices.

He had judged his life of living for others as meaningless and worthless. And the first to confront him with desire was the former Azaka. He was supposed to never see her again, but now she had appeared. Having lost his obsession with Mayuzumi Azaka, Asato had been struggling to define his own path in life. Could this be why he kept going in circles?

He wanted her to at least say something. Anything at all.

I reached out to tap his shoulder. Whether it was an apology, guidance, or complaints, it wouldn’t make a difference. Even if he got some words from his mother, Asato wouldn’t be satisfied. He would only feel renewed anger or an irreparable emptiness.

Just as I tried to tell him to stop, the former Azaka stopped trembling. She nodded and lifted her head. The confusion rapidly cleared from her face.

She looked around, examined her palm, and seemed to understand something. With a new expression, she looked up at Asato. Her vacant eyes studied him.

“Nothing in particular.”

Her words hung in the air. The smile vanished from Asato’s face. He looked at his mother, dumbstruck.

She stared at him intently before looking around with vacant eyes, nodding with a cold, emotionless expression. “I… am leaving now.”

And just like that, she disappeared.

We found ourselves in the middle of a field of red. A warm breeze rustled through the sea of flowers.

The room we had been in was now a ruin, as if the mansion had been nothing but a fleeting dream. It felt like waking up in a house in the reeds. Asato stood in the flower field, holding the dark blue parasol. His eyes were wide, staring blankly into the distance.

He was quivering slightly. His clear eyes conveyed intense emotions.

Mayuzumi Asato was angry. He was consumed by a fury unlike anything he had ever shown before.

“Ah, I see.”

Asato’s voice was a low whisper, struggling to come to terms with his feelings. He tried to casually swallow his disappointment and anger, but his body betrayed him. His foot stomped on the red flowers, crushing them. They instantly bloomed again. Asato continued to stomp mechanically, crushing flowers as they slowly reopened.

“So that’s it. Nothing to say, huh?” he muttered, repeating the futile act. “Even after realizing that your longing for Mayuzumi Azaka was a mistake, still nothing. I see. That’s just like you. I expected as much. A most fitting outcome.”

His face was contorted horribly. Unable to utter a word, I just stared at him. One wrong word, and it would be the end of me. His rage was that intense.

So I just stood in silence. Then, my ears caught a strange noise. A white shadow was circling us like a shark in the sea of flowers, closing in carefully, making sure we wouldn’t escape this time. I swallowed. The Mayuzumi clan was plagued by two curses.
The former Azaka had comprehended her death and disappeared, but the white child still remained.

And it was targeting its former master.

“I was stupid to expect anything from her.”

The nearby flowers rustled, and the white child sprang forth like a beast.

With her white hair streaming like a mane, she dashed across the scarlet flowers, leaping toward Asato, who stood frozen. Asato’s gaze remained fixed on the white child, a faint, misplaced smile flickering across his face.

In a fluid motion, he tilted his head, his eyes dull and indifferent as he glanced at me.

His gaze was mocking, almost taunting. I understood instantly. He didn’t feel like moving, and he was waiting to see how I would react.

He was testing me—not just me, but humanity itself. A familiar certainty washed over me.

It was something I had felt several times before. Sometimes, humans encounter moments when they simply cannot turn their back on another, no matter what. This was one of those moments.

If I let them down, it would shatter them, and I would carry the weight of that betrayal for the rest of my life. I had felt it with Yusuke and Kugutsu, but never expected to feel it with the fox.

Without hesitation or doubt, I stepped forward. Turning my back on him now would mean his death. Though I was being forced to make a very unreasonable choice, I had no desire to refuse. Just as he looked at me so naturally, I instinctively chose to act.

If I didn’t move now, Asato would die consumed by absolute hopelessness, cursing everything and everyone, never grasping the significance of his actions or the value of what he had neglected. I couldn’t let that happen. I grabbed Asato’s arm and yanked him down. In that instant, the child shifted her focus to me. Her red, glowing eyes locked onto mine, her mouth twisting grotesquely to devour me. A sharp pain surged through my gut.

Something crashed between me and the white child.

Papa!

With a spray of red blood, Uka leaped into the air. Her black hair grew instantly, beautiful strands obscuring my vision. Behind the curtain of dark hair, Uka completed her transformation, her grown body landing in the flower field. Immediately she sprang up, uprooting the red blossoms like a storm, and pounced on the child. She wrapped her slender arms around its neck.

Uka effortlessly lifted the child into the air. For the first time, emotions flickered in the child’s previously-empty red eyes. Fear. A demon born from Shiramine’s emotions, she had once completely bested Uka. But now, Uka had grown a lot more than before.

The child, on the other hand, had not only failed to grow but had shrunk. Uka tightened her grip slightly.

Crack.

With a simple motion, the child’s neck snapped with no resistance.

The head hung limply. The child’s body twitched and then went slack. I stared in shock, unable to process the unexpected turn of events. As I stood frozen, Uka’s mouth opened, saliva dripping slowly from her parted lips. I realized my mistake.

I had completely misjudged the situation.

The white child had been starving, but so had Uka. Given the vast difference in their power, I should have ordered Uka not to kill the child the moment she attacked. But it was too late. Uka had tasted flesh.

“Uka! Stop!” I shouted.

Chomp.

Uka’s mouth closed, and the white child disappeared inside. A disturbing crunch came from within her hideously bulging jaws. Blood seeped from the gap between her bloated lips. She chewed. Crunch, crunch, crunch. White hair that had peeked out from her mouth was sucked back in. I screamed at her to spit it out, but Uka ignored me.

She was my child, but she was still a demon. I recalled my earlier thoughts. A starving beast is dangerous. Even if you ordered it to spit out food it had already devoured, it wouldn’t listen.

And Uka swallowed the demon whole. She had eaten rare, twisted flesh.