The man let out a painful sigh. “Well…all right. My mom says I should do it, too, but… Oooh, but I really don’t want to…”
Mitsuhiro had obtained consent, so he put the car into gear, made a U-turn, and headed for the station. He stopped at the nighttime parking lot between the construction site and a bus depot just before the intersection in front of Shibuya Station’s east exit. He thanked his lucky stars he’d brought his employee ID with him as he got out, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door. The man, seemingly resigned to his fate, left the car and followed him, head bowed.
Mitsuhiro entered the code for the soundproof barrier around the site and went inside. It was the middle of the night, but the site was illuminated by bright lights. He showed his employee ID to the busy work crew on the site and went to the East Wing staff room, leaving the man waiting outside where Mitsuhiro could see him. He couldn’t afford to have him disappear again.
He borrowed two sets of helmets, gloves, and flashlights from the office. Outside, they both equipped themselves and headed for the East Wing basement.
There was no construction work going on below, so they relied on their flashlights as they descended the stairs. The noise from above gradually faded away, and soon the men could hear nothing but their own footsteps.
When they reached the lowest level, Mitsuhiro traced his memory to find the place they needed to go. It didn’t take long.
鎭
The now-familiar character was written large on the wall, and the stairs leading down to the ritual hall were fully illuminated by their flashlights.
“Let’s go,” said Mitsuhiro. “This way.”
As he began to descend the stairs, the other man followed with a sigh of despair. They went down the long stairway in silence and emerged into a narrow passageway.
“I can smell it again,” said the man from behind. Mitsuhiro smelled it, too, but he felt optimistic now. Finally, this was almost over, and his mission would be accomplished.
He’d expected the door ahead to be closed and to have to wait there for Araki from Tamai Construction. But when he reached it, he noticed it was wide open. It looked like a dark hole leading to nowhere.
Mitsuhiro paused, reluctant to go inside. Then he heard his phone ringing in his jacket pocket. Surprised that he could get a signal all the way down here, he took it out.
The call was coming from the phone he had given Sae to use. She must have woken up and called him when she found him missing.
He hurriedly answered.
“Sae?”
“It’s me, Mitsuhiro. Your daughter’s doing fine. I’m keeping an eye on her.”
“Dad? What’s up?”
“Listen, Mitsuhiro. Don’t stop where you are. You have to put him in that hole. If you don’t make the hole happy, weird things are gonna keep happening all over your home.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You sure got a lot to learn if you don’t even know that.”
“I know… I’m sorry.”
“Nah, nah, you’ll learn it all, okay? Your dad here will teach you. Now, first thing, take the man with you into the hole as soon as you can. Don’t let him escape like last time.”
“All right. I’m on it.”
The phone went silent after Mitsuhiro’s reply, so he put his phone back in his pocket.
“All right, let’s go. Please come inside with me.”
“Ohh, I don’t want to…”
The man hesitated, but he timidly followed. Mitsuhiro was determined to do what he had to. All that fear from last time was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t aimlessly wandering around in the pitch darkness any longer, and his mind didn’t nag at him about the white dust he kicked up with each step he took.
He proceeded mindfully, taking care not to fall into the hole, and when he found the shrine, he went over to it and flipped the light switch. The orange light illuminated the room from all four corners, and he could see that his partner, who had been cowering a moment ago, was much more relaxed. But when Mitsuhiro placed the flashlight on the table and picked up the stepladder on the floor, the man’s expression changed.
“Huhh? What are you doing?”
It was so obvious that Mitsuhiro didn’t bother answering the question as he slowly lowered the stepladder from the edge of the hole to the bottom. When he felt the rubber feet dig into the bottom of the hole, Mitsuhiro let go.
“All right. Climb down, please.”
“What? Me? Why?”
“That’s what your job is. I think your illness might have caused you to forget.”
“I’m not sick!”
“Um… If you’re anxious, I can come down with you, and we can wait together.”
“If I go into that hole, I’ll be even more cursed than I am now!”
Mitsuhiro was getting angry with the stubborn Yoshikazu Hara.
“That’s not going to happen.”
He grabbed the man’s wrist, pulling him. Okuyama had warned him never to do that, but come on—it’s not like he’d have to deal with homeless folks again after this anyway. If the guy would just listen, everything would work out fine—but to his surprise, the man resisted, trying to break free.
“Whoa. Don’t fight me, all right? It’s your job.”
“Ahh! No, I don’t want to! No, Mom! Stop it, Mom! Ahh!”
Mitsuhiro grimaced at the shrill sound of the man’s voice echoing around him.
“Be quiet, please!”
He suddenly felt thirsty, which only made him angrier. The air was hotter now; the sweat on his forehead and the smell of dust in his nose made everything seem uncomfortable.
Desperate to get this over with, Mitsuhiro grabbed both of the man’s hands and dragged him to the edge of the hole where the stepladder was. But the man violently twisted himself around, shaking off Mitsuhiro. He turned his back, trying to run away. Mitsuhiro hurriedly chased after him, grabbed him by his clothes, and pulled him back.
“Ahh! Let me go, Mom! Ahh! Please, I’m sorry!”
The man hit Mitsuhiro with the flashlight, and Mitsuhiro grabbed it from him, tired of all this. Hara grimaced back at him, taking off his helmet. Before Mitsuhiro could react, he was hit on the side of the head with it.
Mitsuhiro reared back from the impact, letting go of the flashlight. But he was determined not to let the man escape and grabbed his clothing with one hand. The man swung his helmet over and over, hitting Mitsuhiro’s own helmet and shoulders repeatedly. No longer willing to deal with this, Mitsuhiro gave up trying to hold on and finally pushed the man away with both hands.
He saw the man fall backward out of the corner of his eye. A moment later, he heard a dull thud, but he couldn’t tell what it was from. The shove had sent him sprawling too.
Quickly getting up, he looked around for the man. He was gone. The helmet Hara had been given was lying near the hole. The rest of him had disappeared.
He’s escaped, Mitsuhiro thought, and he shivered. He tried to rush back toward the entrance, but screeched to a halt, realizing there were no footsteps coming from the pitch-black corridor up ahead. He looked back at the helmet, then at the hole beyond it. Now he was shuddering for different reasons. For the first time since arriving here, his heart pounded violently as he approached the edge of the hole and peered down into it.
The bottom was pitch-black, far too dark to see anything. Mitsuhiro bent down, reached for the flashlight he had dropped earlier, and shone it into the hole.
Then he realized what the dull thud was. The man had fallen right into the hole, lying on his back with his limbs spread out. But he couldn’t have fallen neatly on the ground down there. He must’ve landed on the concrete block. Nothing else could have made that particular thud.
Dazed, Mitsuhiro stared down at the motionless man, but then he came to his senses and moved along the edge of the hole to use the stepladder. Being careful not to fall himself, he climbed down, flashlight in one hand.
When he reached the bottom of the hole, he took a deep breath and shone the light on the figure. The fallen man’s face was turned toward him. He was staring at Mitsuhiro in a stupor, not even blinking, as if inviting him to come lie down there with him.
Mitsuhiro recoiled from the sight, and his back bumped against the stepladder. The problem wasn’t that the man didn’t close his eyes, even with the flashlight shining right on them. Nor was it the dark liquid oozing out from under his head. No, the issue was the face itself.
—Who is this?
It wasn’t the face of the Yoshikazu Hara that he remembered. This man was much younger. His features were completely different.
—How could this happen? Why did I give him a ride, then? Why did I believe it was Yoshikazu Hara when I questioned him in the car?
He screamed the questions inside his head, but there were no answers. He had no idea what to do. He pressed his back against the ladder, staring at the unfamiliar man and his vacant eyes, frozen in place.