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V9 Story I – Part 03

I didn’t know where Yusuke was. He left what sounded like a farewell note and vanished.

I wanted to know where he’d gone. If he were to die, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

Was this a result of self-deception? Maybe I was just trying to achieve some mental stability by preventing Yusuke’s death. I was fully aware of my hypocrisy, but the main goal didn’t matter.

The truth was, I just didn’t want anyone else to die. That’s what I genuinely felt.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Yusuke might be planning to die. He’s gone somewhere.”

“I see. If he dies, great. But I will chew on his corpse,” Kugutsu replied without a second thought. There was a glint of near madness in his eyes. He clenched his teeth. “Let me ask you again, sir… where did that boy go?”

Kugutsu seemed sure that I had information on Yusuke’s whereabouts. However, I had no clue where he went. If I did, I’d have already rushed out of the hospital. I really had no idea.

Where could Yusuke, who had chosen death, have gone? Where do people who desire death end up?

“…Ah.”

At that moment, I pictured white snow.

I saw a vision of a vast, white expanse. Brilliant, pure light blinded me. The white landscape was directly linked to haunting memories of death.

Two bodies dangled from the branches of a pine tree, their heads swollen like damaged fruit. Their lifeless flesh had grown rigid, their protruding tongues pale. The grotesque corpses were hard to look at.

She had worn a radiant smile when she was still alive. She gave salvation to someone in the distant past.

A voice whispered in my ear: do you understand this pain? The hatred that begins here.

I don’t give a shit, was what I said.

In a place blanketed by snow, Yusuke lost his stepmother and sister. If he were going anywhere, it would be there.

The white garden was the starting point of Yusuke’s breakdown. Now, in this season, it was buried under snow once more.

Everything should be the same as when the two died. Nothing would have changed, as if inviting another to hang themselves.

“Oh? Do you have any leads, sir?”

I swiftly masked my emotions, but Kugutsu’s smile widened, suggesting he had reached a conclusion. The smile sent shivers down my spine. But then, his expression shifted.

“Sir, there’s one thing I’d like to ask.”

Out of the blue, emotion returned to his eyes, and he looked at my left hand with a pitiful gaze.

“Can you move that finger properly?”

I tried to move my left hand, and my breath caught.

“What… huh?”

I managed to slightly bend my fingers, but nothing more. I couldn’t muster any strength in it. I hadn’t noticed because I’d been protecting my left hand as it had just been treated. I stared at it in shock.

It turned out my left hand was mildly paralyzed.

It finally happened.

I couldn’t deny feeling shocked, but it also made sense. My left hand had been deeply wounded several times. Aftereffects were to be expected. That’s what I told myself.

I had no choice but to come to terms with the fact that my hand wouldn’t move freely.

“One arm.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“I thought that losing one arm would be a fitting price.” Kugutsu nodded a few times, stroking his chin. “You protected that boy. I believed losing one arm would be a fair price for that. But it seems your left hand can only move slowly right now. So let’s hold off for now. Right now, I’m just going to ask you some questions. But I suppose you won’t answer, will you?”

Kugutsu sighed and raised one hand. The puppets along the wall stood up. Did Maihime give control of the puppets to Kugutsu? They started a slow dance in the darkness.

“Let me share an old tale,” he said in a low voice.

Two puppets’ arms crossed right in front of me, vivid in the shadows.

“A tale about a dog.”

The pale figures danced bewitchingly. Unlike the stage puppets, many of the puppets on the first floor were unclothed.

Their faded limbs resembled frail plants. Two hands were outstretched before me.

Fingers opened and closed. The palms, like curtains of flesh, blocked my sight.

“Act One: How the dog fell and how it was picked up,” Kugutsu said dispassionately.

It was a line from a play. What was the point of doing this?

To answer my question, Kugutsu went on with words that were not from the script.

“The dog, who had lost its right hand to a demon, devoured its former owner, a worthless piece of trash, then fled. After a reckless driving on a stolen car, the dog found its way to an abandoned warehouse district. Its festering wounds burned, rotting. Hiding inside the warehouse, the dog felt the looming fear of death.”

The puppets’ palms moved out of my line of sight. Kugutsu, still seated, moved his prosthetic hand.

The unpainted fingers moved seamlessly. The hand that Uka bit would never return to its original state.

“The rush of killing the woman who had bound me faded quickly. What lingered were the wounds and hunger. The fear of infection, the dread of being caught by the Mayuzumi clan. That’s all I felt.”

“Ah, how empty, sad, painful. No wishes come true, nothing changes. In that case, should I not have run away? But that place was like hell. Running away was a matter of dignity. I craved freedom, and I got it. But this hunger, this thirst… it’s too much.”

I recalled lines from the play. Something moved between the puppets’ legs, resembling the dog puppet from the play. But its body lacked fur. The metallic frame glowed dimly.

“The dog would sometimes wander the nearby town, searching for food and hiding. As the days went by, its wounds grew worse, and as it neared its limits, it staggered out of the warehouse. It walked… walked for a long time.”

The puppets leaned, and the dog collapsed at their feet. Its mouth flapped open and shut. There was no tongue, only sharp fangs.

“Wandering through a deserted town, the dog came across a somewhat familiar house.”

I remembered the exterior of the Maihime mansion, with its tower-like silhouette. Homes of espers were often isolated from their surroundings. Although smaller than the Mayuzumi clan’s residence, it bore a similar air.

“The dog entered and hid in the shadow of the storehouse. Wearing filthy, sweat-stained, and grimy clothes, reeking of its own decay, it yearned for a kind master.”

Kugutsu recited lines from the play again. The metallic dog nuzzled against my legs, as if asking me to become its owner. It was cold.

“At that moment, someone spoke to the dog.”

Something moved near the wall. A puppet in a bridal gown appeared, threading through the naked puppets. Her white veil fluttered as she gazed at the dog.

Inclining her head, she said, “What are you afraid of? There is nothing to fear here. I find it quite curious.”

Kugutsu looked up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes in reminiscence.

After a moment of silence, he resumed speaking. His voice was resonant and low, and he sounded possessed by something.

“You’re wounded, aren’t you?'”

“You’re in agony, you’re sad, and you’re in pain.”

“So why are you still alive?”

“Why, even in despair, do you keep on living? I find it strange.”

“Why do you cry? Is everything really that painful and sad?”

“You don’t understand? You don’t even understand the meaning of your own emotions? It just feels unjust, does it? Everything seems very terrifying.”

“‘Then, why not end your life? You don’t want to do that either. Anything but that. You call yourself a dog… but you look human to me. So even when you run, there’s nothing but misery.”

“You’re just an ugly mutt and no one loves you, you say? You will die without anyone needing you, without knowing a shred of kindness. You’re a wretched dog no one will care about, and it’s painfully unbearable. I see. That’s what you think. But as far as I can see…”

The girl bent down and reached out to the dog. Kugutsu abruptly paused.

As though revealing a treasure from his chest, he whispered gently, “I like you.”