“Don’t laugh. Just because it was Christmas, they didn’t have to go out and buy such a large quantity of fried chicken. They only ate one or two pieces each, and then I had to finish the rest. It was the same with the cakes.”
“But that’s nothing for a specter, right?”
“Of course it was nothing. Still, it wasn’t fun having to stuff my stomach with food that wasn’t particularly intriguing while listening to them sing strange songs.”
“…Oh, geez, Shino. They must have been singing Christmas carols. They really did have serious Christmas parties for you, didn’t they?”
Shino glared at Masamichi as he continued to giggle.
“Hey, you have some nerve laughing at your master…”
But as Shino reached a hand over the table to chastise Masamichi and the younger man leaned back so he wouldn’t be grabbed—they heard someone on the television say a name neither of them could forget.
“…!”
They immediately froze, then simultaneously turned their faces toward the TV screen.
The irritation on Shino’s face remained, but Masamichi’s smile disappeared as if he had wiped it off.
It seemed the monotonous discussion on tax-related issues had ended.
With a rapid change of pace, a cheerful Christmas song started playing in the background, and a round of applause erupted in the TV studio as people welcomed the guest appearing in the entertainment segment.
“We have with us tonight the super-popular prince of gagaku court music, Mr. Kagiroi! Mr. Kagiroi, welcome to our show.”
Calling the guest’s name again, a female announcer walked up to Kagiroi with a radiant smile.
“This way, sir. Oh wow, I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you.”
Welcoming him with reverence as if she was greeting royalty, the announcer led Kagiroi to a plush chair set up in the corner of the studio.
“Kagiroi…”
Masamichi heard Shino gritting his teeth in reaction to the man smiling and waving to the cameras against a backdrop of unpleasant clamoring.
It’s Kagiroi…!
Just thinking of the name made Masamichi tremble all over. He didn’t realize he was hugging himself tightly.
The house was heated and should have been warm enough, but he felt cold to the core.
As he sat comfortably in a chair, the prince of gagaku court music’s movements were relaxed and elegant, and he looked young.
His facial features stood out clearly, reminding Masamichi of a Kabuki actor. The corners of his eyes curved slightly upward, and his lips were rosy as if tinted with lipstick, making him look sexy in a wild way.
Just as eye-catching as his beauty were his hair and fashion sense.
His straight hair came down to his chest and was flame red. He wore a pure-white suit that complemented it. Even the shirt he wore was as white as snow.
The contrast between his red hair and white clothes made him look more like a rock musician than a gagaku court musician, but even rock stars seldom wore all-white outfits. He was certainly thorough when it came to style.
Seated in a beautiful crimson satin chair, Kagiroi stood up slowly as if to show off his slender form, gracefully stretched out his arms, and took a bow.
“Hello, everyone, it’s been a while. My name is Kagiroi. Thank you for having me here today. I’m honored to join you,” he said, his last words directed at the people in the studio.
A few men snickered at Kagiroi’s theatrics, but everyone else was wide-eyed and entranced.
Their ecstatic expressions were a stark contrast to Shino’s and Masamichi’s.
“I trust that you are all aware that gagaku, the ancient court music of Japan, has been somewhat forgotten. However, Mr. Kagiroi here is the person who has turned the spotlight on it,” the television announcer said. “He’s famous for his concerts, where his performances are so divine that people in the audience faint one after the other…”
Kagiroi was back in his seat, tilting his head with a wry smile on his face at her words.
“I know it’s rude to interrupt, but making people faint isn’t exactly commendable.”
“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I’m so nervous; I guess that wasn’t nice… I still can’t believe that someone like you really exists and is now appearing on our show. After all, you don’t give away anything about yourself, from your real name to your background, no matter how hard those skilled reporters try to dig,” the announcer said, sounding more like a fan than a facilitator.
Kagiroi’s gentle smile didn’t falter as he tilted his head again.
“Thank you. I keep my identity a mystery because I want people to love the music I play and not me. I am only a type of conduit that delivers the tunes that the people of ancient times created.”
“How dare he speak that way,” Shino spat with a click of his tongue, but Masamichi didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on Kagiroi and the TV.
“And to my dismay, I have been on medical leave since autumn,” Kagiroi continued.
A male lawyer who was seated in the studio and serving as one of the commentators reacted in a somewhat chilly tone. “Oh yes, you canceled your tour after suddenly calling off a concert in Kyoto on the day of the event, didn’t you? I heard that one of the reasons for that was a free performance you gave the night before along the Kamo River, when a mass fainting spell ensued…”
“Hey, that’s rude,” a male comedian sitting next to the lawyer chided jokingly. “What if he gets angry and leaves?”
The announcer paled, but Kagiroi straightened his posture, widened his smile, and bowed.
“I’m very sorry about that. I was walking along the Kamo River on the night before the concert, and the beautiful scenery of the ancient city inspired me. I couldn’t help playing at least a piece of music with my hichiriki—my woodwind instrument—to pay tribute to the historical city, but that was arrogant. I’m ashamed to have inconvenienced all the people who gathered there and become very ill myself…”
“Oh, please, don’t be so hard on yourself…,” the announcer said, flustered. Masamichi finally looked away from the screen and glanced at Shino, who remained focused on the broadcast.
“Shino. The performance by the Kamo River that Kagiroi just mentioned—”
“There’s no doubt about it. He’s talking about the time he almost killed us,” Shino mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the TV.
Shino’s almond-shaped eyes met Masamichi’s round ones. Masamichi nodded, his face pale.
Three months ago, they’d nearly been killed by Kagiroi, who was now appearing on TV.
His current cover was the super-popular prince of gagaku court music. Like Shino, he was a specter who had been living in the human world since the Heian period.