“Sins.” “Aberrants.” Miyo had tensed up when she heard the elder’s words. This had to be related to what she had seen.
Among the Miyakouji men, one bit his lip as his face went white, while another grimaced with discomfort.
Kiyoka gazed around the room with suspicion before sending a piercing look at Komon.
“‘Sins’? What exactly could that be referring to, Lord Komon? Is there some other incident besides what happened today?”
It wasn’t Komon, but the other men who angrily responded to Kiyoka’s question.
“Th-that’s poking your nose too far into our business, Lord Kudou!”
“Of course he wants to know! It’s the one thing that threatens the family’s good name. Komon, don’t tell me you’re going to reveal the truth!”
Agonized, Komon covered his face with his hand, then groaned before gesturing at the men to calm down.
It was an excruciating decision. But there was only one right answer.
This sentiment was clear on Komon’s face when he took his hand away.
“…This is how it has to be. The Kudous may be a branch family, but you’re still not Miyakoujis, and I admit I’d rather not expose our shame. But the Kudous aren’t completely divorced from all this, either, and we’re completely in the wrong here. If you’re asking, Kiyoka, then I’ve got to answer.”
“But Komon!”
“Unbelievable! You call yourself the head of the family?!”
The other men criticized Komon. Nevertheless, his resolve showed no signs of breaking.
“We’ll call the meeting here. Kiyoka, Miyo, mind moving somewhere else to chat?”
Ignoring the criticism that kept coming his way, Komon rose with a stony face. Kiyoka followed before Miyo also got up and left the room.
Miyo and Kiyoka were led to a relatively small room situated much deeper in the vast expanse of the Miyakouji estate. Facing north, it didn’t get much sunlight, making the space vaguely dreary and gloomy.
Together with a still angry Kiyoka, Miyo entered the room and sat down much closer to Komon than before and straightened her posture.
“Please, let me apologize again. I am deeply sorry for what happened, Miyo.”
“It’s okay, you’ve apologized quite enough already…”
Komon looked so pitiful that Miyo averted her gaze. When she shook her head, feeling conflicted inside, Komon finally sighed and released the tension from his body.
“To be perfectly honest, I feel so disgraced and ashamed that I don’t even think I could look either of you in the eye.”
“…I’m glad the head of the family has common sense, at the very least,” Kiyoka coldly responded to Komon.
With his eyes drooping, Komon seemed like a completely different person from the day before, clearly because he felt so dejected. His joviality had disappeared, replaced by an eerie calmness that resembled tranquility.
“I feel the same way. Before I get to our family’s past, I should tell you the others said all that to stop me. But the way I see it, this was already something I was gonna have to broach at some point. Miyo…I heard you met little Izuko yesterday?”
“I did.”
“I’m guessing the reason you wanted to see me has something to do with what Grandfather said just now, yeah?”
Miyo clenched her hands tightly in her lap and nodded slightly.
She had never mentioned anything specific about what had prompted her request to speak with Komon, yet the man already knew she had met with Izuko and had an idea of why Miyo had been motivated to seek him out.
Everything had made it back to Komon’s ears. Miyo’s heart shuddered.
Her husband gave Komon a questioning look.
“Kiyoka, you mentioned wanting to look at the Miyakoujis’ records on the Earth Spider if they had any, right?” Komon asked.
“…That’s correct,” Kiyoka agreed solemnly, returning Komon’s gaze.
Komon heaved a heavy sigh, as if expelling all the air in his lungs at once.
“This has got to be fate at work.”
For a short while, Komon turned away and averted his eyes from both Miyo and Kiyoka, resting his elbow on his knee. He brought his hand to his forehead, seemingly in deep deliberation.
Silence fell on the room.
Miyo kept quiet and simply stared straight ahead, waiting for Komon to speak.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when Komon finally stirred and changed his posture. The rustling of his clothes sounded especially loud.
“Miyo.”
“Yes.”
“You saw Izuko’s nightmare with your Gift, did you?”
“I did.”
“Do you mind explaining what, and how much, you saw?”
Miyo straightened her posture and tucked in her chin.
Where should she begin, and how was she supposed to explain it? After thinking a moment, Miyo decided to recount her story from the beginning.
“I heard the word aberrant.”
A chaotic landscape and a chaotic din.
That was what Miyo first experienced upon entering Izuko’s dream—an indecipherable mass, messily swirled together. Gazing at the disorderly scene had been terribly uncomfortable, but Miyo understood it would gradually grow clearer and take shape, so she persevered, straining her eyes and ears.
Eventually, a totally unfamiliar scene came into view, one filled with completely unknown people.
They were in a windowless dirt room, the atmosphere suffocatingly oppressive.
The people inside were wearing kimonos, but their hair was in topknots, signifying to Miyo the scene was from before her time.
In the room were several men. There was a wide range of ages, from the very old to the still young.
At their feet was a child sitting down on the floor, bound to a wooden pillar with rope.
“Another failure. The power’s not manifesting right.”
“Did they die on us?”
“Nah, they’re still breathing. But if we keep goin’ like this, they’re a goner.”
The child’s breathing was shallow, their chest barely rising and falling. Or so Miyo thought. All of a sudden, they suddenly began to scream.
“Ahhhhhhh!”
“Still enough spirit in you to scream, huh? Not that it’ll do ya any good.”
One of the men slammed his foot into the child’s head. Even then, they still continued to scream.
The men all grew annoyed and beat the child even further. Their voice gradually weakened and went hoarse.
“What a racket. The Miyakoujis don’t need a runt like you,” one of the men said, before another one brought over a chipped bowl of some kind. He grabbed the child’s hair and pulled their face up before forcing the bowl to their lips and making them drink.
The child’s legs violently thrashed about. It wasn’t very long, however, before they went completely limp.
“Useless little failure. Wasted all that hard work. So what now?”
“We’ve already got another ready. This way.”
The setting instantly changed.
On top of a mat spread haphazardly over the dirt floor, a young girl lay on her back. She appeared to have a fever—her cheeks were bright red, and her breathing was labored and painful.
“Was a tad weak, but she used psychokinesis. Should be good to give her more.”
“Perfect. Do it.”