It was around seven-thirty when Takaya and Chiaki returned to the hotel after completing their investigation. Making food the first order of business, they went up to the Japanese restaurant on the top floor of the hotel.
Naoe interrupted their report to ask, “Possessed by the ‘Hiragumo’...?”
“Yeah,” Chiaki responded, tossing a piece of sashimi into his mouth. “I’m sure of it, Naoe—the tsukumogami attached to Shiohara’s daughter is the ‘Hiragumo’. That’s why I said that dealing with it ain’t gonna be as simple as your everyday exorcism.”
“If the ‘Hiragumo’ is involved, then Matsunaga Hisahide must be as well?”
“Why the heck do you keep saying that?” Takaya demanded with annoyed incomprehension, poking at the sashimi garnish. “Why does the ‘Hiragumo’ mean Matsunaga Hisahide must be involved? And what the heck is a tea kettle tsukumogami, anyway? Can’t you guys stop talking gibberish for five minutes and explain it to me?”
Takaya was peeved because Chiaki hadn’t given him any sort of a clear answer. Naoe, who had more or less assumed the position of explainer-in-chief, replied patiently, “The ‘Hiragumo’ was once one of the rarest of tea kettles. It later became a tsukumogami, a famous monster that would appear around Heguri
at the foot of Mt. Shigi. If I’m not mistaken, legend has it that although it became a monster with its own arms and legs, because it was originally a tea kettle, it would appear in people’s kitchens in the dead of night and drink all the water in jars and urns and bottles and other containers while insisting ‘make tea! make tea!’ Stories also say that it will eat evil spirits and other monsters, so people believed that it should be left alone and treated with respect. There were apparently also those who set out an extra bottle of water especially for the ‘Hiragumo’...” Naoe clasped his hands together on the table. “But when the ‘Hiragumo’ was still an ordinary tea kettle, its owner was Yamato commander Matsunaga Hisahide.”
“The ’Hiragumo belonged to Hisahide?”
“Yes. You said the victim lived near Mt. Shigi?”
“Yeah...?”
Naoe leaned forward slightly.
“Mt. Shigi was where Matsunaga Danjou Hisahide’s main castle was located. It fell to attack by Oda’s army after he rebelled. The story goes that Nobunaga suggested that Hisahide hand over to him the masterpiece ‘Hiragumo Kettle,’ which he also coveted, and in exchange he would spare Hisahide’s life. But Hisahide refused, instead tying the ‘Hiragumo’ around his neck, sprinkling himself with gunpower, and personally lighting the fuse to set off the explosion.”
Takaya gulped down a piece of sashimi and muttered, “So he blew himself up with the kettle, huh...?”
“Yes,” Naoe nodded.
Chiaki set down his chopsticks and groaned. “That’s probably when the bitterness and resentment of Matsunaga’s soldiers collected in the ‘Hiragumo Kettle.’ The malice of the dead soldiers resurrected the ‘Hiragumo’ as a tsukumogami.” Chiaki sighed. “Matsunaga Danjou Hisahide. Who killed the Shogun and his own lord and reduced the Toudai Temple to ashes—what a traitorous, heinous, inhuman bastard. I hear he hooked up with that idiot Nobunaga, then double-crossed him—it’s no wonder he became an onryou.”
Naoe added quietly to Takaya, “Rumors say Matsunaga Hisahide has set out to unify the territories near the old capital. There is no definitive proof that he actually has any sort of secret weapon, but I have heard that the Oda forces are very much on guard against it. They appear to think it has some kind of unthinkable power.”
Takaya scowled. “A secret weapon? They can’t mean this ‘Hiragumo’ monster, can they...?”
“Well, there’s certainly merit to making sure. And we still don’t know what connection it has to the ‘hoihoi fire’ either.”
“I got the feeling somebody was watching us.”
Naoe asked, “Who?”
“Probably some onshou from somewhere,” Chiaki said, stuffing tempura into his mouth. “But anyway, let’s leave that for tomorrow. Argh, geez, I’m totally worn out from having to protect the helpless guy who can’t protect himself.”
“Who’re you calling helpless?”
“You should at least offer to gimme a hand from time to time.”
“Are you saying that I haven’t?!”
“All right, all right.” Takaya’s lips tightened in annoyance as Naoe held him back. They appeared to have passed the entire day this way. Naoe was glad yet again that he had arrived early.
“You’d better at least make sure you don’t get my way.”
“Yeah, thanks for nothing!”
Naoe dropped his face into his hand and groaned.
Physically drained by the unaccustomed heat, both Takaya and Chiaki retired to their room and went to bed early that night. They had carried out a good investigation despite their bickering, and Naoe was surprised at how well they worked together. Still—
“So you decided to ride with me after all?” Naoe commented, glancing at Takaya in the passenger’s seat.
The next day. They had left the hotel that morning in Naoe’s rented Presia.
“You drive better, at least.”
“Hmm? So you trust my driving?”
“You try sitting in a car the whole day with Chiaki driving sometime. It’s hell! And the scare ain’t the fun kind you get in a roller coaster, either!”
Takaya was feeling like he should be thanking the gods for making it back alive.
“Bishamonten would surely protect you?”
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I’ve decided.”
Looking at Takaya’s suddenly serious face, Naoe asked, “About what?”
“That I’m getting my license as soon as I turn eighteen next year. If I’m teamed up with Chiaki again I’m not gonna even let him touch the wheel.”
“Please stop. Now you’re scaring me.”
The car drove due south down National Highway 24. They had split up with Chiaki for the time being; he was heading for Sangou Town to meet with Shiohara’s daughter, Nagi, while their destination was the residence of Shiohara’s lover, Kizaki Mieko, in Takada City, where they were planning to ask her some additional questions about the circumstances of Shiohara’s death.
“Is it all right for us to just show up like this?”
“When I called her establishment, they told me that she’s taking a few days off. She would be heading out in the evening even if she were going to work, so she should probably be home now.”
“Have you actually contacted her?”
“I got a recording saying that she was not at home. But I believe she is. According to her colleagues, she was quite upset at Shiohara’s sudden death. It seems that she was partially intoxicated at yesterday’s funeral as well.”
Takaya scowled up at the roof.
“So she’s an alcoholic? Geez, I hate that...”
“Then perhaps you should have gone with Nagahide.”
“No way!” Takaya said flatly, looking for a moment at Naoe’s conscientious handling of the wheel. The driving was a part of it, but having Naoe beside him was also calming somehow.
(Well, that’s a given when compared to Chiaki.)
“What is it?”
“Ah, nothing. Anyway, can you tell me a bit more about this Matsunaga Hisahide you were talking about?”
Naoe searched his memory for a moment.
“Matsunaga Hisahide was originally a vassal of the Miyoshi family, which had the Ashikaga Shogunate under its thumb. Rumors say that he murdered the son of Miyoshi Nagayoshi, who was head of the family, and drove the then-Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, to suicide. Because of that he was denounced by society for betraying his masters. He attempted to conquer Yamato and its surrounding territories from his stronghold at Mt. Shigi. He also fought with his former masters of the Miyoshi Clan and attacked the Miyoshi Triumvirate’s camp at Toudai Temple. The Matsunaga army burned Toudai Temple to ashes and destroyed even the Great Buddha Hall.”
“Toudai Temple—that Toudai Temple?”
“Yes. One of Hisahide’s strongholds, Tamon Castle, was located north of there. In any case, he eventually lost the castle when he surrendered to Oda’s forces. That’s when Hisahide began serving Nobunaga. He participated in several of Nobunaga’s battles, like the attack on Ishiyama Hongan Temple, but rose against Nobunaga a few years later. In the end he secluded himself at Mt. Shigi, where he was besieged by the Oda army and destroyed.”
“So that’s what that story of the ‘Hiragumo’ kettle from last night was about?”
“Yes. Hisahide was certainly a man of refined taste. He had a zeal for collecting rare swords and tea utensils—a trait which Nobunaga shared. But in Hisahide’s case, it was an enthusiasm bordering on obsession.” Naoe took note of the passing street signs, then continued, “I heard that when Hisahide entered the capital to surrender to Nobunaga, he presented to Nobunaga a masterpiece in the form of a tea caddy called the ‘Tsukumogami’. Thereafter he presented several more rare tea utensils to Nobunaga in order to express his continued loyalty, but it must doubtlessly have been painful for Hisahide to give away so much of his beloved collection. Well, I suppose it was necessary for him to survive, but...in the end he chose to be blown to pieces with the ‘Hiragumo’—”
“What, so it was actually a tea kettle?”
“It was a masterpiece among masterpieces, long coveted by Nobunaga. When Nobunaga besieged Mt. Shigi, he promised Hisahide his life in exchange for the ‘Hiragumo’. Hisahide stubbornly refused. Choosing destruction with the ‘Hiragumo’ over submission must have been his expression of defiance towards Nobunaga.”
“Mmm,” Takaya nodded. “He was some character, huh? I can understand how he felt, though...”
“Hisahide was quite a cunning scoundrel. He made a show of obeying Nobunaga, but in actuality was constantly plotting rebellion against the man who had so quickly usurped what little central power he managed to grasp. His hatred for Nobunaga must have been considerable,” Naoe explained, his gaze moving back to the road.
“Nobunaga was a man whose charm inspired lasting loyalty, but he also inspired hatred in equal measure. Perhaps Hisahide’s fear of Nobunaga spurred him in his rebellion.”
“...”
“Nobunaga was, without question, the favored child of his era. Whether in a good sense or in a bad sense, I do feel some sympathy for Hisahide and the others who were driven to rebel against him. Although,” Naoe added with a small smile, “they would spurn any such useless sentiment.”
Takaya looked at Naoe with some disappointment. “You’re gonna sing Nobunaga’s praises even though he’s our enemy?”
“If he had not existed, then this country would probably also not exist in its current form.” Naoe met Takaya’s gaze. “You cannot deny the tremendous service he performed for this country in its evolution. Though he is without question our enemy, we should also recognize his achievements. —If we wish to affirm our current society, that is.”
Takaya looked hard at Naoe.
Naoe continued, “But if you take it even further, perhaps there really isn’t anyone who was not necessary to the creation of our current world, irrespective of whether or not their names are remembered by history.”
“Naoe...”
“A small saving grace, don’t you think?” Naoe said, and smiled quietly. Takaya, gazing at his profile, closed his mouth.
The car crossed open expanses of blue-glinting rice paddies as it raced southward.
The address Chiaki had obtained during their investigation belonged to a pretty three-story brick building. Takaya and Naoe alighted in front of it and entered. As they approached the woman’s door, Takaya asked, “So how should we introduce ourselves, anyway? Are you gonna do the same thing Chiaki did and give her a magazine reporter’s business card?”
“We’ll use this.”
Takaya looked at the notebook Naoe held out to him and stopped in place.
“What the—a police notebook? Wh-why the heck do you have that thing? Is that a counterfeit...?!”
“It’s the real thing.”
“You stole it?!”
“I picked it up.”
“Aaaaagh, geez, you know—!”
Naoe rang the doorbell, an innocent expression on his face.
No one answered. He rang several more times in between pauses, but there was no response.
“Maybe she’s sleeping?”
He continued insistently. Only after three or so more tries did someone answer at last.
“Who the hell is that? Shut up...!”
The door finally opened a crack, and a face peered out at them—it was the young woman Takaya had seen at the funeral yesterday, Kizaki Mieko. Her long disheveled hair was caught in a net today, and she wore only a single-layered shirt over an extremely distracting figure.
She demanded sullenly, “Who are you?”
“We apologize for disturbing your rest. We are here on an investigation—”
Naoe showed her the police notebook, and Mieko was abruptly fully awake.
“In-investigation!” She gave a small scream, and her entire attitude immediately changed.
After hurriedly tidying up the empty whiskey bottles rolling on the table, Mieko showed Naoe and Takaya inside.
“P-please...”
“Thank you.”
The scent of alcohol lingered in the room. Naoe glanced at Takaya’s scowl and quietly began the questioning.
“I’m going to come straight to the point—we would like to ask you some questions about Shiohara-shi.”
Mieko still appeared to be slightly intoxicated, as well as dazed and confused from shock and distress. Naoe began with some harmless questions.
“Your relationship to Shiohara-shi was...” he trailed off, noticing that Mieko was staring dubiously at Takaya next to him.
“Ah, I apologize for the lack of introduction. This is Ougi-san, who is collaborating with me in this investigation. I am Tachibana from the Special Investigations Department of the National Police Agency.”
“Ah...”
“I am the detective in charge of this unique case, so please feel free to tell me anything that has been bothering you, even those things that may defy common sense or would be difficult to explain to the average person. Anything at all. Even what you may consider unbelievable, such as spirit-murderers or curse-killings; these things may very well be the key to solving the crime.”
There was surprise in Mieko’s expression, but also trust. Takaya gave him a suspicious look; Naoe ventured to ignore him.
“Things like being haunted to death by fox spirits or being killed by vengeful ghosts—” he added, looking at Mieko. “Or being burned to death by mysterious fireballs.”
“!”
Mieko’s expression changed drastically.
“M-Mr. Detective!”
A muffled ack ack suggested that Takaya was in imminent danger of losing his battle against laughter. But Mieko shrieked in complete seriousness, “He...he was murdered. He was cursed to death by that daughter of his!”
“Cursed to death...?”
“Those fireballs were her curse. He’s been terrified for a while now, and he told me, ‘I’m going to be killed. My daughter put a curse on me.’ He carried dozens of charms with him all the time. It was his daughter’s curse!”
Takaya and Naoe looked at each other. Mieko pressed desperately, “It happened just like he said! ‘I’m going to be killed by the Dragon God. My daughter put a curse on me to have the Dragon God kill me.’”
“Dragon God...?”
“Yes! His daughter made a hundred pilgrimages to see the Dragon God, praying for his death every time. And the Dragon God answered. The Dragon God killed him!” Mieko insisted, and began sobbing loudly. Naoe looked at Takaya. Takaya leaned forward, eyes cool.
“Then Shiohara-san knew that he would be killed?”
Mieko nodded, still crying.
“And you’re saying that it was because his daughter cursed him.”
Mieko continued nodding.
“Which means that Shiohara-san was somehow aware that his daughter was casting a death-curse on him?”
“...!”
Mieko’s face changed color as she looked at them.
Naoe requested calmly, “Please tell us about Shiohara-san and his daughter Nagi-san.”
Meanwhile, Chiaki Shuuhei was trying to see Nagi at her home in Sangou Town. She had lived there with her stepfather, but would now be living alone. Ordinarily only a housekeeper stayed at the house, but for the past few days her great-aunt and great-uncle, who had come for the funeral, had also been staying with her. He had called her under pretense of collecting information for a magazine article to attempt to set up a meeting, but had been completely and commendably shut out by a woman who’d presumably been the great-aunt.
(...Geez, it wouldn’t’ve hurt to toss me a crumb or two,) he thought with annoyance. No doubt other reporters had come calling as well, so she had been unnecessarily brusque.
But since he couldn’t leave without seeing Nagi, he was loitering aimlessly around the house...
(Well, what next?)
Nagi seemed to be home.
When he and Takaya returned yesterday evening to attempt to get in contact with her, the concentration of «malice» had been quite out of the ordinary. Even now the house was cloaked by an extremely strong sense of ill-will.
And was it his imagination, or was it much stronger?
(Is it because of that kettle monster?)
If that was the case, then the ‘Hiragumo’ had grown even stronger.
(But for now we have to find the connection between it and the hoihoi fire...)
As he groaned, still stuck on the question of how to approach her—
“...!”
A strange aura moved near him. He immediately put himself on guard.
(Who is that?)
He focused his mind and scanned his surroundings with deep caution. Someone was watching him. This sensation—
(It’s the same as yesterday...)
Chiaki raised the sensitivity of his spirit sensing to pinpoint the source of that aura, but at that moment the door opened, and Nagi herself appeared with a rather pitiful little “See you later.”
“!”
Chiaki’s eyes widened in surprise, and he whirled. The feeling of being watched had increased exponentially in intensity. ‘Energy’ gathered around the unseen, alien presence, so immense that it warped the air. Chiaki recognized the danger in a split-second.
(Shit...!)
Hard on the heels of that thought, power like an unseen storm swooped down on Nagi. It flashed around her, and in the next instant shattered all the windows in the house!
“Kyaaaah!” Nagi screamed, cowering with her arms around her head.
Small branches snapped off from the surrounding trees. A pine’s trunk split apart with a loud crack. A sudden gale howled in the small space around them. Who...?!
“!”
Fissures appeared in the ground and raced toward Nagi from all directions with terrifying speed!
“Bastard!”
Chiaki promptly created a «goshinha» and threw it around Nagi. It stopped the fissures with a metallic clang a second before they reached her.
(Someone’s attacking her?!)
Then—another burst of bloodlust!
(Dammit!)
Chiaki dashed toward Nagi where she crouched just outside the door. He searched for his opponent with narrowed, dagger-edged eyes—and the aura dissipated. Whoever it was, he seemed unwilling to go up against Chiaki.
“!”
Chiaki did not miss the silhouette that flickered at the opposite street corner.
(There...!)
“Ugh...!”
Nagi’s moan stopped Chiaki from chasing after it. Damn. She appeared to have been struck by the glass shards. Chiaki turned to Nagi, clicking his tongue in disgust as the aura receded.
Nagi was trembling violently in pain. Chiaki swept the surrounding area with sharp caution once more, but that ferocious aura which had unleashed such furious power on her was gone for the moment.
(He’s run off?)
His brows knitted in a frown, but there was nothing he could do. Chiaki took Nagi’s right arm, which had covered her face, and examined her wound. Fresh blood trickled out of a deep cut, staining the hand pressed against it scarlet.
“Damn. This’ll probably need stitches.”
“...”
Forgetting her injuries for a moment, Nagi stared at the strange young man who had suddenly appeared in front of her.
“U...um...”
“Nagi!”
The door was thrown open, and Nagi’s great-aunt and great-uncle came flying out. Her great-aunt screamed at the sight of Nagi’s wound.
“Nagi! Are you all right?”
“Wh-who are you?! What did you do to...?!”
“Stop making a fuss, Mister. This cut is pretty bad, so you should get her to the hospital,” Chiaki interrupted, quickly taking off his shirt and tying it tightly around Nagi’s arm to stem the flow of blood. He looked around. “Is the hospital close by? I can take her in my car if you want...”
“Yo-you’re from the media, aren’t you?! Go away! How many times do I have to tell you people that you’re being a bother...?!”
“Sure, I can leave, but you really need to get this wound looked at.”
Nagi, who had been staring dazedly at Chiaki, suddenly cried out, “Wait! Wait, don’t go! Ah...” Chiaki turned to look at her. Nagi flinched a bit at her own words, but after a moment pleaded in a small voice, “Please...take me to the hospital...”
Chiaki’s eyes widened.
He had somehow ended up becoming Nagi’s guardian. Her astonished great-aunt and great-uncle had been definitively cut off by her request to have Chiaki take her to the hospital.
Hunched over with his chin in his hand, Chiaki waited for Nagi in one of the chairs arranged in long rows in the hospital waiting area.
(Maybe they don’t get along...?)
According to Aoki, the marriage between Nagi’s mother, Yukiko, and her true father, Tooru, had been opposed by everyone around them. They had eloped and gotten married despite that fact, but upon Tooru’s sudden death, Yukiko had had no choice but to take Nagi with her back to her family. Nagi had been six at the time.
Yukiko had married Shiohara Kouzou four years ago. Nagi’s grandfather, who had approved of his abilities, had adopted Kouzou into the family upon his marriage as heir to his company.
Her grandfather had died three years ago. Kouzou had succeeded him and been inaugurated as the president of the company in accordance with his will.
(Maybe this is why they don’t get along...?)
If Yukiko had never returned, the company would have fallen into the hands of Nagi’s great-aunt (her grandfather’s younger sister) and great-uncle.
(Could that be why they’re taking it out on the girl?)
But they were the ones who stood to profit the most from Shiohara’s death...
(Aah, this is not helping), Chiaki shrugged. There was trouble enough to go around even without these messy family affairs.
(But people have really been dying left and right in this family, huh...?)
Three in as many years—four, counting Nagi’s father. Both of Nagi’s birth parents as well as her stepfather.
(Is there something here?) he wondered, head tilted doubtfully, when the door of the examination room opened.
Nagi appeared with her right arm bandaged and hanging in a white cloth sling.
“Ah...”
He looked up. Nagi gave him a small smile, looking at him with all the uncertainty of an elementary school student trying to gauge her parents’ expressions after playing a prank.
“...I’m sorry. I’m finished now,” she told him.
“Well done.”
A middle-aged doctor in a white coat came out behind her. “Aah, hello. Are you her brother?” Playing along for the moment, Chiaki answered in the affirmative, and the doctor continued, “The wound was deep enough to require three stitches. There will probably be a slight scar, but it won’t be terribly conspicuous. She should not take a bath today.”
“I see.”
“It’ll probably start hurting this evening, so I’ve given her some painkillers. I’ll examine her again tomorrow, so please come see me then.”
“Okay. Thank you so much.”
Chiaki bowed his head deeply to the doctor as he returned to his examination room, then turned to Nagi. She looked at him timidly, piteously dazed in her snowy bandages.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Um...”
Someone called his name at the window, interrupting whatever Nagi was about to say. Chiaki paid the bill there and returned carefully carrying a bag of medicine. He passed it to Nagi.
“Here. Let’s get you home.”
They left the hospital and walked side by side beneath the blazing sun.
A chorus of a dozen or so cicadas chirped loudly somewhere nearby. The asphalt-paved hill road shimmered in the heat. It was another cloudless summer day.
“You’re Nagi-san, right? Is that the first time something like that’s happened to you?”
Nagi seemed bewildered by Chiaki’s question; she shook her head and bit her lip dejectedly before replying in a small voice, “Actually...”
“?”
“That wasn’t the first time. It’s been happening a lot lately...”
Chiaki stared at her in surprise.
“Then...”
“The windows would break without warning, the house would start shaking, I’d almost get hit by runaway cars...I’ve become too afraid to leave the house— And my stepfather died so suddenly, too...” Nagi stopped in her tracks, looking down at the ground. “The lady said something about a curse...I...” Nagi covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know anything anymore...”
Chiaki looked down at Nagi, scowling.
(Is someone trying to kill her?)
Who was behind it? The person he’d seen earlier—was he targeting this girl? Or—
(Is the target the ‘Hiragumo’?)
Chiaki took another look at Nagi. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to see its shape clearly, but—
The tsukumogami hiding within Nagi’s body.
She didn’t seem to be aware of it.
(Who was it?)
Chiaki grimaced.
If nothing else, they had to protect this girl. And if her attacker from earlier had been aiming for the ‘Hiragumo’, then they had to remove her from this place, or she would become involved sooner or later.
(But how?)
Nagi bit her lip as Chiaki pondered the problem. Seeing her pleading, hopeless expression, Chiaki patted her back encouragingly.
“Cheer up, everything’ll be fine. I swear I won’t let you get hurt next time.”
“Eh?”
“That was my bad earlier. I was too careless. I totally should’ve been able to protect you from that. It was my fault for letting you get hurt, so I’m sorry, okay?”
Nagi peered at Chiaki wonderingly.
“You...protected me?”
“Though ‘a step too late’ would be more accurate, yeah.”
“Then, then...” Nagi’s eyes lighted up. “Are you a servant of the Dragon God?”
Chiaki’s eyes widened involuntarily.
“Huh...?”
It was around seven-thirty when Takaya and Chiaki returned to the hotel after completing their investigation. Making food the first order of business, they went up to the Japanese restaurant on the top floor of the hotel.
Naoe interrupted their report to ask, “Possessed by the ‘Hiragumo’...?”
“Yeah,” Chiaki responded, tossing a piece of sashimi into his mouth. “I’m sure of it, Naoe—the tsukumogami attached to Shiohara’s daughter is the ‘Hiragumo’. That’s why I said that dealing with it ain’t gonna be as simple as your everyday exorcism.”
“If the ‘Hiragumo’ is involved, then Matsunaga Hisahide must be as well?”
“Why the heck do you keep saying that?” Takaya demanded with annoyed incomprehension, poking at the sashimi garnish. “Why does the ‘Hiragumo’ mean Matsunaga Hisahide must be involved? And what the heck is a tea kettle tsukumogami, anyway? Can’t you guys stop talking gibberish for five minutes and explain it to me?”
Takaya was peeved because Chiaki hadn’t given him any sort of a clear answer. Naoe, who had more or less assumed the position of explainer-in-chief, replied patiently, “The ‘Hiragumo’ was once one of the rarest of tea kettles. It later became a tsukumogami, a famous monster that would appear around Heguri at the foot of Mt. Shigi. If I’m not mistaken, legend has it that although it became a monster with its own arms and legs, because it was originally a tea kettle, it would appear in people’s kitchens in the dead of night and drink all the water in jars and urns and bottles and other containers while insisting ‘make tea! make tea!’ Stories also say that it will eat evil spirits and other monsters, so people believed that it should be left alone and treated with respect. There were apparently also those who set out an extra bottle of water especially for the ‘Hiragumo’...” Naoe clasped his hands together on the table. “But when the ‘Hiragumo’ was still an ordinary tea kettle, its owner was Yamato commander Matsunaga Hisahide.”
“The ’Hiragumo belonged to Hisahide?”
“Yes. You said the victim lived near Mt. Shigi?”
“Yeah...?”
Naoe leaned forward slightly.
“Mt. Shigi was where Matsunaga Danjou Hisahide’s main castle was located. It fell to attack by Oda’s army after he rebelled. The story goes that Nobunaga suggested that Hisahide hand over to him the masterpiece ‘Hiragumo Kettle,’ which he also coveted, and in exchange he would spare Hisahide’s life. But Hisahide refused, instead tying the ‘Hiragumo’ around his neck, sprinkling himself with gunpower, and personally lighting the fuse to set off the explosion.”
Takaya gulped down a piece of sashimi and muttered, “So he blew himself up with the kettle, huh...?”
“Yes,” Naoe nodded.
Chiaki set down his chopsticks and groaned. “That’s probably when the bitterness and resentment of Matsunaga’s soldiers collected in the ‘Hiragumo Kettle.’ The malice of the dead soldiers resurrected the ‘Hiragumo’ as a tsukumogami.” Chiaki sighed. “Matsunaga Danjou Hisahide. Who killed the Shogun and his own lord and reduced the Toudai Temple to ashes—what a traitorous, heinous, inhuman bastard. I hear he hooked up with that idiot Nobunaga, then double-crossed him—it’s no wonder he became an onryou.”
Naoe added quietly to Takaya, “Rumors say Matsunaga Hisahide has set out to unify the territories near the old capital. There is no definitive proof that he actually has any sort of secret weapon, but I have heard that the Oda forces are very much on guard against it. They appear to think it has some kind of unthinkable power.”
Takaya scowled. “A secret weapon? They can’t mean this ‘Hiragumo’ monster, can they...?”
“Well, there’s certainly merit to making sure. And we still don’t know what connection it has to the ‘hoihoi fire’ either.”
“I got the feeling somebody was watching us.”
Naoe asked, “Who?”
“Probably some onshou from somewhere,” Chiaki said, stuffing tempura into his mouth. “But anyway, let’s leave that for tomorrow. Argh, geez, I’m totally worn out from having to protect the helpless guy who can’t protect himself.”
“Who’re you calling helpless?”
“You should at least offer to gimme a hand from time to time.”
“Are you saying that I haven’t?!”
“All right, all right.” Takaya’s lips tightened in annoyance as Naoe held him back. They appeared to have passed the entire day this way. Naoe was glad yet again that he had arrived early.
“You’d better at least make sure you don’t get my way.”
“Yeah, thanks for nothing!”
Naoe dropped his face into his hand and groaned.
Physically drained by the unaccustomed heat, both Takaya and Chiaki retired to their room and went to bed early that night. They had carried out a good investigation despite their bickering, and Naoe was surprised at how well they worked together. Still—
“So you decided to ride with me after all?” Naoe commented, glancing at Takaya in the passenger’s seat.
The next day. They had left the hotel that morning in Naoe’s rented Presia.
“You drive better, at least.”
“Hmm? So you trust my driving?”
“You try sitting in a car the whole day with Chiaki driving sometime. It’s hell! And the scare ain’t the fun kind you get in a roller coaster, either!”
Takaya was feeling like he should be thanking the gods for making it back alive.
“Bishamonten would surely protect you?”
“Yeah, sure. Anyway, I’ve decided.”
Looking at Takaya’s suddenly serious face, Naoe asked, “About what?”
“That I’m getting my license as soon as I turn eighteen next year. If I’m teamed up with Chiaki again I’m not gonna even let him touch the wheel.”
“Please stop. Now you’re scaring me.”
The car drove due south down National Highway 24. They had split up with Chiaki for the time being; he was heading for Sangou Town to meet with Shiohara’s daughter, Nagi, while their destination was the residence of Shiohara’s lover, Kizaki Mieko, in Takada City, where they were planning to ask her some additional questions about the circumstances of Shiohara’s death.
“Is it all right for us to just show up like this?”
“When I called her establishment, they told me that she’s taking a few days off. She would be heading out in the evening even if she were going to work, so she should probably be home now.”
“Have you actually contacted her?”
“I got a recording saying that she was not at home. But I believe she is. According to her colleagues, she was quite upset at Shiohara’s sudden death. It seems that she was partially intoxicated at yesterday’s funeral as well.”
Takaya scowled up at the roof.
“So she’s an alcoholic? Geez, I hate that...”
“Then perhaps you should have gone with Nagahide.”
“No way!” Takaya said flatly, looking for a moment at Naoe’s conscientious handling of the wheel. The driving was a part of it, but having Naoe beside him was also calming somehow.
(Well, that’s a given when compared to Chiaki.)
“What is it?”
“Ah, nothing. Anyway, can you tell me a bit more about this Matsunaga Hisahide you were talking about?”
Naoe searched his memory for a moment.
“Matsunaga Hisahide was originally a vassal of the Miyoshi family, which had the Ashikaga Shogunate under its thumb. Rumors say that he murdered the son of Miyoshi Nagayoshi, who was head of the family, and drove the then-Shogun, Ashikaga Yoshiteru, to suicide. Because of that he was denounced by society for betraying his masters. He attempted to conquer Yamato and its surrounding territories from his stronghold at Mt. Shigi. He also fought with his former masters of the Miyoshi Clan and attacked the Miyoshi Triumvirate’s camp at Toudai Temple. The Matsunaga army burned Toudai Temple to ashes and destroyed even the Great Buddha Hall.”
“Toudai Temple—that Toudai Temple?”
“Yes. One of Hisahide’s strongholds, Tamon Castle, was located north of there. In any case, he eventually lost the castle when he surrendered to Oda’s forces. That’s when Hisahide began serving Nobunaga. He participated in several of Nobunaga’s battles, like the attack on Ishiyama Hongan Temple, but rose against Nobunaga a few years later. In the end he secluded himself at Mt. Shigi, where he was besieged by the Oda army and destroyed.”
“So that’s what that story of the ‘Hiragumo’ kettle from last night was about?”
“Yes. Hisahide was certainly a man of refined taste. He had a zeal for collecting rare swords and tea utensils—a trait which Nobunaga shared. But in Hisahide’s case, it was an enthusiasm bordering on obsession.” Naoe took note of the passing street signs, then continued, “I heard that when Hisahide entered the capital to surrender to Nobunaga, he presented to Nobunaga a masterpiece in the form of a tea caddy called the ‘Tsukumogami’. Thereafter he presented several more rare tea utensils to Nobunaga in order to express his continued loyalty, but it must doubtlessly have been painful for Hisahide to give away so much of his beloved collection. Well, I suppose it was necessary for him to survive, but...in the end he chose to be blown to pieces with the ‘Hiragumo’—”
“What, so it was actually a tea kettle?”
“It was a masterpiece among masterpieces, long coveted by Nobunaga. When Nobunaga besieged Mt. Shigi, he promised Hisahide his life in exchange for the ‘Hiragumo’. Hisahide stubbornly refused. Choosing destruction with the ‘Hiragumo’ over submission must have been his expression of defiance towards Nobunaga.”
“Mmm,” Takaya nodded. “He was some character, huh? I can understand how he felt, though...”
“Hisahide was quite a cunning scoundrel. He made a show of obeying Nobunaga, but in actuality was constantly plotting rebellion against the man who had so quickly usurped what little central power he managed to grasp. His hatred for Nobunaga must have been considerable,” Naoe explained, his gaze moving back to the road.
“Nobunaga was a man whose charm inspired lasting loyalty, but he also inspired hatred in equal measure. Perhaps Hisahide’s fear of Nobunaga spurred him in his rebellion.”
“...”
“Nobunaga was, without question, the favored child of his era. Whether in a good sense or in a bad sense, I do feel some sympathy for Hisahide and the others who were driven to rebel against him. Although,” Naoe added with a small smile, “they would spurn any such useless sentiment.”
Takaya looked at Naoe with some disappointment. “You’re gonna sing Nobunaga’s praises even though he’s our enemy?”
“If he had not existed, then this country would probably also not exist in its current form.” Naoe met Takaya’s gaze. “You cannot deny the tremendous service he performed for this country in its evolution. Though he is without question our enemy, we should also recognize his achievements. —If we wish to affirm our current society, that is.”
Takaya looked hard at Naoe.
Naoe continued, “But if you take it even further, perhaps there really isn’t anyone who was not necessary to the creation of our current world, irrespective of whether or not their names are remembered by history.”
“Naoe...”
“A small saving grace, don’t you think?” Naoe said, and smiled quietly. Takaya, gazing at his profile, closed his mouth.
The car crossed open expanses of blue-glinting rice paddies as it raced southward.
The address Chiaki had obtained during their investigation belonged to a pretty three-story brick building. Takaya and Naoe alighted in front of it and entered. As they approached the woman’s door, Takaya asked, “So how should we introduce ourselves, anyway? Are you gonna do the same thing Chiaki did and give her a magazine reporter’s business card?”
“We’ll use this.”
Takaya looked at the notebook Naoe held out to him and stopped in place.
“What the—a police notebook? Wh-why the heck do you have that thing? Is that a counterfeit...?!”
“It’s the real thing.”
“You stole it?!”
“I picked it up.”
“Aaaaagh, geez, you know—!”
Naoe rang the doorbell, an innocent expression on his face.
No one answered. He rang several more times in between pauses, but there was no response.
“Maybe she’s sleeping?”
He continued insistently. Only after three or so more tries did someone answer at last.
“Who the hell is that? Shut up...!”
The door finally opened a crack, and a face peered out at them—it was the young woman Takaya had seen at the funeral yesterday, Kizaki Mieko. Her long disheveled hair was caught in a net today, and she wore only a single-layered shirt over an extremely distracting figure.
She demanded sullenly, “Who are you?”
“We apologize for disturbing your rest. We are here on an investigation—”
Naoe showed her the police notebook, and Mieko was abruptly fully awake.
“In-investigation!” She gave a small scream, and her entire attitude immediately changed.
After hurriedly tidying up the empty whiskey bottles rolling on the table, Mieko showed Naoe and Takaya inside.
“P-please...”
“Thank you.”
The scent of alcohol lingered in the room. Naoe glanced at Takaya’s scowl and quietly began the questioning.
“I’m going to come straight to the point—we would like to ask you some questions about Shiohara-shi.”
Mieko still appeared to be slightly intoxicated, as well as dazed and confused from shock and distress. Naoe began with some harmless questions.
“Your relationship to Shiohara-shi was...” he trailed off, noticing that Mieko was staring dubiously at Takaya next to him.
“Ah, I apologize for the lack of introduction. This is Ougi-san, who is collaborating with me in this investigation. I am Tachibana from the Special Investigations Department of the National Police Agency.”
“Ah...”
“I am the detective in charge of this unique case, so please feel free to tell me anything that has been bothering you, even those things that may defy common sense or would be difficult to explain to the average person. Anything at all. Even what you may consider unbelievable, such as spirit-murderers or curse-killings; these things may very well be the key to solving the crime.”
There was surprise in Mieko’s expression, but also trust. Takaya gave him a suspicious look; Naoe ventured to ignore him.
“Things like being haunted to death by fox spirits or being killed by vengeful ghosts—” he added, looking at Mieko. “Or being burned to death by mysterious fireballs.”
“!”
Mieko’s expression changed drastically.
“M-Mr. Detective!”
A muffled ack ack suggested that Takaya was in imminent danger of losing his battle against laughter. But Mieko shrieked in complete seriousness, “He...he was murdered. He was cursed to death by that daughter of his!”
“Cursed to death...?”
“Those fireballs were her curse. He’s been terrified for a while now, and he told me, ‘I’m going to be killed. My daughter put a curse on me.’ He carried dozens of charms with him all the time. It was his daughter’s curse!”
Takaya and Naoe looked at each other. Mieko pressed desperately, “It happened just like he said! ‘I’m going to be killed by the Dragon God. My daughter put a curse on me to have the Dragon God kill me.’”
“Dragon God...?”
“Yes! His daughter made a hundred pilgrimages to see the Dragon God, praying for his death every time. And the Dragon God answered. The Dragon God killed him!” Mieko insisted, and began sobbing loudly. Naoe looked at Takaya. Takaya leaned forward, eyes cool.
“Then Shiohara-san knew that he would be killed?”
Mieko nodded, still crying.
“And you’re saying that it was because his daughter cursed him.”
Mieko continued nodding.
“Which means that Shiohara-san was somehow aware that his daughter was casting a death-curse on him?”
“...!”
Mieko’s face changed color as she looked at them.
Naoe requested calmly, “Please tell us about Shiohara-san and his daughter Nagi-san.”
Meanwhile, Chiaki Shuuhei was trying to see Nagi at her home in Sangou Town. She had lived there with her stepfather, but would now be living alone. Ordinarily only a housekeeper stayed at the house, but for the past few days her great-aunt and great-uncle, who had come for the funeral, had also been staying with her. He had called her under pretense of collecting information for a magazine article to attempt to set up a meeting, but had been completely and commendably shut out by a woman who’d presumably been the great-aunt.
(...Geez, it wouldn’t’ve hurt to toss me a crumb or two,) he thought with annoyance. No doubt other reporters had come calling as well, so she had been unnecessarily brusque.
But since he couldn’t leave without seeing Nagi, he was loitering aimlessly around the house...
(Well, what next?)
Nagi seemed to be home.
When he and Takaya returned yesterday evening to attempt to get in contact with her, the concentration of «malice» had been quite out of the ordinary. Even now the house was cloaked by an extremely strong sense of ill-will.
And was it his imagination, or was it much stronger?
(Is it because of that kettle monster?)
If that was the case, then the ‘Hiragumo’ had grown even stronger.
(But for now we have to find the connection between it and the hoihoi fire...)
As he groaned, still stuck on the question of how to approach her—
“...!”
A strange aura moved near him. He immediately put himself on guard.
(Who is that?)
He focused his mind and scanned his surroundings with deep caution. Someone was watching him. This sensation—
(It’s the same as yesterday...)
Chiaki raised the sensitivity of his spirit sensing to pinpoint the source of that aura, but at that moment the door opened, and Nagi herself appeared with a rather pitiful little “See you later.”
“!”
Chiaki’s eyes widened in surprise, and he whirled. The feeling of being watched had increased exponentially in intensity. ‘Energy’ gathered around the unseen, alien presence, so immense that it warped the air. Chiaki recognized the danger in a split-second.
(Shit...!)
Hard on the heels of that thought, power like an unseen storm swooped down on Nagi. It flashed around her, and in the next instant shattered all the windows in the house!
“Kyaaaah!” Nagi screamed, cowering with her arms around her head.
Small branches snapped off from the surrounding trees. A pine’s trunk split apart with a loud crack. A sudden gale howled in the small space around them. Who...?!
“!”
Fissures appeared in the ground and raced toward Nagi from all directions with terrifying speed!
“Bastard!”
Chiaki promptly created a «goshinha» and threw it around Nagi. It stopped the fissures with a metallic clang a second before they reached her.
(Someone’s attacking her?!)
Then—another burst of bloodlust!
(Dammit!)
Chiaki dashed toward Nagi where she crouched just outside the door. He searched for his opponent with narrowed, dagger-edged eyes—and the aura dissipated. Whoever it was, he seemed unwilling to go up against Chiaki.
“!”
Chiaki did not miss the silhouette that flickered at the opposite street corner.
(There...!)
“Ugh...!”
Nagi’s moan stopped Chiaki from chasing after it. Damn. She appeared to have been struck by the glass shards. Chiaki turned to Nagi, clicking his tongue in disgust as the aura receded.
Nagi was trembling violently in pain. Chiaki swept the surrounding area with sharp caution once more, but that ferocious aura which had unleashed such furious power on her was gone for the moment.
(He’s run off?)
His brows knitted in a frown, but there was nothing he could do. Chiaki took Nagi’s right arm, which had covered her face, and examined her wound. Fresh blood trickled out of a deep cut, staining the hand pressed against it scarlet.
“Damn. This’ll probably need stitches.”
“...”
Forgetting her injuries for a moment, Nagi stared at the strange young man who had suddenly appeared in front of her.
“U...um...”
“Nagi!”
The door was thrown open, and Nagi’s great-aunt and great-uncle came flying out. Her great-aunt screamed at the sight of Nagi’s wound.
“Nagi! Are you all right?”
“Wh-who are you?! What did you do to...?!”
“Stop making a fuss, Mister. This cut is pretty bad, so you should get her to the hospital,” Chiaki interrupted, quickly taking off his shirt and tying it tightly around Nagi’s arm to stem the flow of blood. He looked around. “Is the hospital close by? I can take her in my car if you want...”
“Yo-you’re from the media, aren’t you?! Go away! How many times do I have to tell you people that you’re being a bother...?!”
“Sure, I can leave, but you really need to get this wound looked at.”
Nagi, who had been staring dazedly at Chiaki, suddenly cried out, “Wait! Wait, don’t go! Ah...” Chiaki turned to look at her. Nagi flinched a bit at her own words, but after a moment pleaded in a small voice, “Please...take me to the hospital...”
Chiaki’s eyes widened.
He had somehow ended up becoming Nagi’s guardian. Her astonished great-aunt and great-uncle had been definitively cut off by her request to have Chiaki take her to the hospital.
Hunched over with his chin in his hand, Chiaki waited for Nagi in one of the chairs arranged in long rows in the hospital waiting area.
(Maybe they don’t get along...?)
According to Aoki, the marriage between Nagi’s mother, Yukiko, and her true father, Tooru, had been opposed by everyone around them. They had eloped and gotten married despite that fact, but upon Tooru’s sudden death, Yukiko had had no choice but to take Nagi with her back to her family. Nagi had been six at the time.
Yukiko had married Shiohara Kouzou four years ago. Nagi’s grandfather, who had approved of his abilities, had adopted Kouzou into the family upon his marriage as heir to his company.
Her grandfather had died three years ago. Kouzou had succeeded him and been inaugurated as the president of the company in accordance with his will.
(Maybe this is why they don’t get along...?)
If Yukiko had never returned, the company would have fallen into the hands of Nagi’s great-aunt (her grandfather’s younger sister) and great-uncle.
(Could that be why they’re taking it out on the girl?)
But they were the ones who stood to profit the most from Shiohara’s death...
(Aah, this is not helping), Chiaki shrugged. There was trouble enough to go around even without these messy family affairs.
(But people have really been dying left and right in this family, huh...?)
Three in as many years—four, counting Nagi’s father. Both of Nagi’s birth parents as well as her stepfather.
(Is there something here?) he wondered, head tilted doubtfully, when the door of the examination room opened.
Nagi appeared with her right arm bandaged and hanging in a white cloth sling.
“Ah...”
He looked up. Nagi gave him a small smile, looking at him with all the uncertainty of an elementary school student trying to gauge her parents’ expressions after playing a prank.
“...I’m sorry. I’m finished now,” she told him.
“Well done.”
A middle-aged doctor in a white coat came out behind her. “Aah, hello. Are you her brother?” Playing along for the moment, Chiaki answered in the affirmative, and the doctor continued, “The wound was deep enough to require three stitches. There will probably be a slight scar, but it won’t be terribly conspicuous. She should not take a bath today.”
“I see.”
“It’ll probably start hurting this evening, so I’ve given her some painkillers. I’ll examine her again tomorrow, so please come see me then.”
“Okay. Thank you so much.”
Chiaki bowed his head deeply to the doctor as he returned to his examination room, then turned to Nagi. She looked at him timidly, piteously dazed in her snowy bandages.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Um...”
Someone called his name at the window, interrupting whatever Nagi was about to say. Chiaki paid the bill there and returned carefully carrying a bag of medicine. He passed it to Nagi.
“Here. Let’s get you home.”
They left the hospital and walked side by side beneath the blazing sun.
A chorus of a dozen or so cicadas chirped loudly somewhere nearby. The asphalt-paved hill road shimmered in the heat. It was another cloudless summer day.
“You’re Nagi-san, right? Is that the first time something like that’s happened to you?”
Nagi seemed bewildered by Chiaki’s question; she shook her head and bit her lip dejectedly before replying in a small voice, “Actually...”
“?”
“That wasn’t the first time. It’s been happening a lot lately...”
Chiaki stared at her in surprise.
“Then...”
“The windows would break without warning, the house would start shaking, I’d almost get hit by runaway cars...I’ve become too afraid to leave the house— And my stepfather died so suddenly, too...” Nagi stopped in her tracks, looking down at the ground. “The lady said something about a curse...I...” Nagi covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know anything anymore...”
Chiaki looked down at Nagi, scowling.
(Is someone trying to kill her?)
Who was behind it? The person he’d seen earlier—was he targeting this girl? Or—
(Is the target the ‘Hiragumo’?)
Chiaki took another look at Nagi. Yesterday he hadn’t been able to see its shape clearly, but—
The tsukumogami hiding within Nagi’s body.
She didn’t seem to be aware of it.
(Who was it?)
Chiaki grimaced.
If nothing else, they had to protect this girl. And if her attacker from earlier had been aiming for the ‘Hiragumo’, then they had to remove her from this place, or she would become involved sooner or later.
(But how?)
Nagi bit her lip as Chiaki pondered the problem. Seeing her pleading, hopeless expression, Chiaki patted her back encouragingly.
“Cheer up, everything’ll be fine. I swear I won’t let you get hurt next time.”
“Eh?”
“That was my bad earlier. I was too careless. I totally should’ve been able to protect you from that. It was my fault for letting you get hurt, so I’m sorry, okay?”
Nagi peered at Chiaki wonderingly.
“You...protected me?”
“Though ‘a step too late’ would be more accurate, yeah.”
“Then, then...” Nagi’s eyes lighted up. “Are you a servant of the Dragon God?”
Chiaki’s eyes widened involuntarily.
“Huh...?”
