“On your way out?”
After paying, Jinya was about to leave when a waitress called out to him. He turned around and saw Hotaru trotting over to see him off.
“Yeah. Sorry, I’m just here to drink today.”
“Is that so? Please do come again, for drinking or otherwise.”
“Sure thing.”
She drew close and leaned in, almost brushing against him. After a pregnant pause, she gave him a peck and then smiled seductively.
A scent tickled his nose—perhaps perfume? Or maybe it was simply her natural odor. Either way, Jinya was beside himself with admiration for her charm, which befitted a true lady of the night.
“…Are my advances not to your liking?” she asked curiously. She seemed to find it strange that a young man like Jinya showed such little reaction to her flirtations.
“Not at all. You’re so captivating that I want nothing more than to let myself fall for you.”
“Thank goodness. I’m relieved.”
“But I currently depend on another sex worker. I would be remiss to ignore her and have fun with another,” he said with a wry grin.
“A shame. But I suppose I shouldn’t be taking another woman’s man, now, should I?” She giggled and backed off easily, having expected nothing in the first place. Still, she must have approached him for a reason.
“Are you still thinking about that man?” he asked. He must have hit the mark, because her professional visage faded and was replaced with the look of a vulnerable woman. She quickly fixed her expression, but her eyes still showed some sorrow.
“…Yes.”
“Like I said before, he will come again. Of that I’m certain.”
Her shoulders trembled slightly. Jinya knew nothing of their relationship, and she probably had no inclination to share.
“You sound so sure.”
“Because I am. Be careful about being alone at night,” he warned.
She sighed wearily. “I can’t do much there. Even when I’m in someone else’s arms, there isn’t a night I’m not alone.”
After leaving Sakuraba Milk Hall behind, Jinya gazed out at the cluttered streetscape as he walked. This Dove District that shouldn’t exist was alive and thriving. The people he saw walking to and fro showed no signs they thought anything was unusual about their location.
The manager of Sakuraba Milk Hall was a peculiar man who spoke effeminately, but that wasn’t what caught Jinya’s interest. The manager probably knew something. Jinya couldn’t be sure, but his intuition told him he was on the right track.
He didn’t want to overstep too soon, though. One wrong move and he could lose his only lead—and, more importantly, a place to drink quality liquor. He still hadn’t found the sex worker with the name of a flower and there were many mysteries left, so he would let things play out for the time being. He would make his move once the time was right.
“Oh, welcome back, Jin-san.”
On his way back, he bumped into Aoba, who had probably come out to look for him. She waved as she trotted over.
He knew where the milk hall was and didn’t need a guide. That was what he’d told Aoba to get her to let him go alone. She probably wanted to complain about being left behind and about him smelling of liquor, but she greeted him with a smile instead. Jinya decided not to think too hard about why that was.
“You don’t have to worry about me running away,” he said.
“Ah ha ha. Oh, you. What are you talking about?”
After some light banter, they walked side by side. Their night walk was pleasant. In no time at all, Aoba’s home came into view: an apartment on a street with cafés on one side and some stores on the other. Aoba was fifteen, maybe sixteen at most. Though she claimed to be a sex worker, she wasn’t even in training yet and hadn’t taken a customer. Naturally, she couldn’t rent a room at a brothel, so instead she lived here alone. She did do odd jobs at a brothel, though, and she got a discount on the apartment through the manager’s connections.
It was fairly late by the time they returned to her apartment. All that remained for them to do was go to bed—in the non-sexual sense, of course. Jinya was currently a freeloader, no better than the deadbeats who sponged off their girlfriends like red-light districts were known for. Feeling a bit guilty about that, he tried to make up for it in whatever small ways he could.
“Here.”
“Oh, thanks.”
They sat around a small table and drank hot tea. A few days after he started living here, he had suggested they regularly chat before going to sleep, and she’d readily agreed. They both wanted to probe one another for information, but nothing useful ended up coming out of it. Before they knew it, their chats really became just chats.
“…And that was when the hairpin took the form of a cuckoo and returned to the skies with her wisteria brother.”
“Wow. What a happy ending.”
Aoba had a thing for unusual and emotional stories. Fortunately, Jinya knew many of those. He recounted the strange events of his past as they happened, but she didn’t need any embellishment to find them entertaining. She properly looked her age for once as she listened to his stories. Personally, Jinya didn’t mind these late-night chats one bit.
“Let’s leave it at that for tonight,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. It’s getting pretty late. What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“I’ll be looking for the sex worker who’s named after a flower again. Would you mind being my guide?”
“Not at all.” She flashed him a smile. She took every opportunity she could get to be at his side. It was plain as day that she had some ulterior motives, but he still couldn’t figure out what those motives might be.
The mysteries only piled higher and higher. Disappointed with his lack of progress, he sighed.
“But before we look, there’s somewhere I want to take you,” she said.
“I don’t mind. I owe you, anyway.”
“Good. It’ll just be a quick stop by Ichikawa.”
Ichikawa was the shop Aoba worked at, not as a sex worker, but as a handler of odd jobs like washing dishes, cleaning, and so on. He knew the place because she’d mentioned it before, but it apparently had no sex workers with flower names, so he skipped visiting it.
“Nanao-san, this sex worker who’s basically also the manager, wants to meet you.”
Apparently this Nanao was also the one who’d gotten the apartment for Aoba. Since she felt indebted to her, Aoba had wound up promising to bring Jinya without actually checking with him beforehand.
Jinya agreed to go, though he mentioned he wasn’t a particularly interesting guy to meet. He owed Aoba a bit and could at least afford to help her save face.
“Sorry for the trouble. And thanks.” Aoba smiled with relief—a rare honest reaction from her. Her respect for Nanao was evident. Aoba seemed truly happy she didn’t have to let her boss down.
The next day arrived. Once the evening sun was in the sky and the streets took on a dark-orange color, Jinya and Aoba visited a small, cozy shop with a sign that said “Ichikawa” out front.
This shop was different from the milk halls and cafés that were so common in the area. Ichikawa offered rooms to sleep with women in and nothing else. The walls of the building were tiled, giving it a passably modern look. But the facade was traditional Japanese-style, making it unclear what aesthetic the shop was aiming for.
“Here we are. Come on now, in you go.”
Stepping inside, he was met with a wood-floored corridor instead of an open space for drinking or dining like one might see in another establishment. It looked like this was once a normal home that was repurposed into a shop. He proceeded toward the back of the narrow corridor until he reached a wooden door. According to Aoba, this was where Nanao was.
Aoba urged him inside, and he obliged. The room had wooden furniture that matched the aesthetic of the place. A woman waited for them inside, and Jinya’s gaze went cold and sharp when he saw her.
“Oh, Aoba-chan. And who might this be?” the woman said with a seductive drawl.
“Hello, Nanao-san. I brought Jin-san like I promised.”
“Ah, so we finally meet. Sorry for all the trouble, dear.”
“Not at all. I was glad to be of help.”
Aoba’s fondness for Nanao was clear from the way they talked, but Jinya continued to stare.
Nanao had beautiful, well-groomed hair that came to her shoulders, and her looks were fair. She was pretty, no doubt, but she wasn’t a drop-dead gorgeous beauty or anything of that sort. Even so, Jinya couldn’t take his eyes off her. His body felt stiff because he hadn’t expected the two of them to meet so suddenly.
“I guess these things happen from time to time,” he murmured.
Aoba didn’t understand what his words meant, but Nanao did. The corners of her lips curved into a wicked grin.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Jin-san, was it? Aoba has told me so, so much about you…as has my mother.”
She didn’t even try to hide her demonic air or her identity. Now that he really thought about it, this possibility had always been on the table.
Azumagiku gained Shirayuki’s exact image by taking in her skull. Jishibari took Nagumo Kazusa’s image, and Furutsubaki took Saegusa Sahiro’s. Except for Himawari, every one of Magatsume’s daughters had to take in an aspect of a person to gain a sense of self and an appearance.
This was nothing to be surprised about at all, then. If they could consume someone to take their appearance, their voice, and even their memories—they could become that person. Their meeting here was a coincidence, but it was one that had always been possible. He just hadn’t thought it out that far.
“Oh, where are my manners? I am Nanao, a sex worker and the temporary manager of this place.”
Jinya could tell—perhaps because he’d fought them so many times or perhaps because he’d devoured a few—that this sex worker Aoba looked up to was a daughter of Magatsume. Or, to put it more accurately, she was someone who had been consumed by a daughter of Magatsume.