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V7 Story IV – Part 10

“The reason he didn’t kill him was because he was hesitating,” Mayuzumi concluded after listening to what I had to say.

“Hesitating?”

Sitting in a chair, she crossed her legs.

After leaving the workshop, we returned to the reception room. Maihime and Kugutsu were nowhere to be seen.

Hishigami, eyes hollow, sat by the fireplace, hugging his knees. A short-haired female puppet was stroking his back, her cold skin touching her master. No words could reach him.

I tried talking to him a number of times, but he remained immersed in his own world.

“That’s probably why the real Hishigami lost his memory. At the moment of the puppet’s creation, they shared the same memories—that is, they both had the memory of creating a puppet of themselves. They couldn’t tell which one was the real one.”

Driven by fear, one lost his memory, while the other became a ghost.

The ghost Hishigami grew to hate his counterpart, believing that he was the puppet and relentlessly pressured the real Hishigami. His mind most likely altered his memories to account for all the inconsistencies. He hounded his counterpart without realizing that he was wrong, and then found out which one was real.

“And the only one left is the puppet. I don’t see the problem with that.” Mayuzumi raised her head and turned to the devastated Hishigami. “You’ve been Hishigami Akira all this time, and you will continue to be,” she said in a light tone.

For the first time, Hishigami reacted. Mayuzumi’s words broke through his hard shell. He lifted his face and looked at Mayuzumi. A new spark kindled within his eyes. It teetered on the brink of madness, but it was a spark all the same.

Holding his gaze, Mayuzumi nodded leisurely. “Live your life free of doubt. Hishigami Akira has already retired. You can take over his life without any problem. The death of one will not change a thing. There was only one of you to begin with. You are undeniably you. Even in death, that fact will remain,” she said melodiously.

Hishigami nodded. He opened his hand, beckoning, and the puppet modeled after the dead laid her hand over his. Hishigami gripped it tight.

His series of actions mirrored that of the human Hishigami.

“I’m closing the workshop,” he said gravely. “I’m sure there was nothing there.”

“Go ahead. You two were having a long nightmare. Peering into the mirror, unable to avert your gazes.” Mayuzumi rose from the chair. Her black dress swayed, rustling like leaves. “We’re leaving, Odagiri-kun.”

She started walking. I looked over my shoulder, and saw Hishigami with his gaze downward.

He neither looked at me, nor stopped Mayuzumi. He would stand on his own. He didn’t need the words of others anymore.

I left the room. A dead girl and a supposedly dead man were nestled close inside.

There was most certainly still a malevolent spirit lurking deep in the atelier. But they would never move again.

---

“This is goodbye, Mayuzumi-san, Odagiri-san. Farewells are hard. I feel very sad.”

Maihime was standing in the summer garden, wearing a relaxed expression, as if returning from a trip. Beside her was Kugutsu, silently bowing to me.

Mayuzumi stopped in her tracks and moved her eyes alone to look at Maihime. Studying the distorted, white form, she curled her red lips.

“Your audacity is quite astonishing. You’re even more cunning than the fox, in a way.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maihime said sweetly, tilting her head.

I couldn’t discern her true intentions from her sleepy expression. Mayuzumi turned to face her. She pointed the tip of her parasol to the puppet in the chair.

Sitting in the front yard, she hadn’t moved all this time. She alone remained wrapped in the stillness.

“It wasn’t just her feet that you repaired, was it?”

“I don’t see the point in answering that question.” Maihime tilted her head to the other side, not denying it.

Mayuzumi let out a small sigh. “You also forgot to attach the feet on purpose.”

I frowned. What was Mayuzumi trying to say? The tip of the red parasol pointed to the puppet’s face. Its eyeballs were back in their sockets. She was staring at the sky languidly.

“You modified her eyes. You replaced the white glass encasing the eyeballs with transparent ones.”

Maihime was wearing the same smile. Her figure exuded a certain kind of firmness, like some gigantic beast. I swallowed as I observed her. I still couldn’t discern her true intentions from her eyes.

Kugutsu’s eyes widened ever so slightly. But he remained calm, moving closer to his master.

“You removed her feet so Hishigami would be suspicious of the puppet’s absence and take action. Correct? The other puppets have their bones hidden under their skin. It’s odd for her eyes to be clearly visible. Furthermore, why was the color of the dead body parts different? It’s almost like a mark.”

I understood the sentiment of embedding the dead’s bones and hair as mementos. But why dye that part alone a different hue?

Why paint it with the color of the living when they were hiding the bones?

“It was your doing, wasn’t it?” Mayuzumi pressed on. “While you were doing your inspections and repairs, you secretly replaced the skin. If Hishigami asked why, you could just say that you replaced the defective part with something temporary. The parts that use human bones require special maintenance, most likely. And that’s how you moved the spirit lurking in the atelier,” she asserted.

Maihime’s smile didn’t crumble. “Do you really expect such a haphazard, ill-conceived plan to work out? I must say, I was quite surprised.”

“Of course not. And yet it did. Even if it failed, you would have suffered no losses. You’re that kind of person. You sow countless seeds and wait for them to bloom. You wind up the screws of the puppets that seem useful, then leave them be. Very well done.” Mayuzumi’s voice was tinged with both praise and mockery.

Maihime neither confirmed nor denied her claim. Wearing a captivating smile, she asked, “What would my motive be?”

“You hated Hishigami because he forgot about the puppet. That’s all.”

Silence enveloped the garden. Clenching my fists, I stared hard at Maihime’s sleepy face.

“Did you really do that?” I asked. “Did you toy around with humans and puppets?”

Did she wind all the screws? Her answer would determine whether she should be held responsible or not. But she didn’t respond. Was she guilty or innocent? Without giving an answer, she held Kugutsu’s hand.

Kugutsu glanced at me briefly, before turning his gaze away. He squeezed Maihime’s hand back.

Small footsteps sounded. A pale puppet appeared from inside the atelier. It was the short-haired girl nestled close to Hishigami. She walked over to us and ran her finger over the touch panel.

The door creaked open, and the winter wind brushed against my cheeks.

Maihime turned her radiant smile towards Mayuzumi. It was the smile of a bride, the beautiful face of a happy and confident woman.

“Well then, farewell,” she said.

“Bye. I pray we never meet again,” Mayuzumi replied.

Maihime and Kugutsu disappeared behind the door, never revealing their answer. I tried to follow them, but I tripped and fell awkwardly. I looked over my shoulder and saw Mayuzumi holding out her folded parasol.

“It’s nothing but conjecture,” she said. “There’s no evidence. What are you going to do? Run after them and get bitten by a dog?”

She shrugged. I recalled how Kugutsu averted his gaze. He would probably rip my throat out without hesitation. Words would never reach him.

Biting my lips, I rose to my feet. Moments later, Mayuzumi started walking. I followed her. Just before passing through the door, I stopped and glanced behind me.

There lay a summer garden, radiant with vibrant green hues and bathed in abundant light. I saw the scene in Hishigami’s memory. A panorama of white and green, so dazzling that it seemed on the verge of shattering. Amidst this blissful and captivating moment, the puppet sat in place of the children from the memory.

As if waiting for someone. Like an indispensable presence within a joyful world.

I shifted my gaze forward and resumed walking.

The door closed behind me, and the bleakness of winter enveloped me in its gray embrace.