He’d forgotten about her habit of bringing up specialist terms in the course of everyday conversation. But that was just the kind of person Rumi was. It had been a while since he’d last interacted with her, so it would take some getting used to. But he would simply have to accept it—he’d come to an unconventional person for help with an unconventional problem, after all.
“Let’s take the most common method of cursing someone in Japan as an example—the straw doll. You fashion a doll out of straw to represent your victim and drive an iron nail into it. Officially, the ritual is called Ushi No Koku Mairi—literally ‘ox-hour shrine visit’—and it has rather detailed instructions. We’ll ignore that for now; it’s beside the point of the current discussion.”
Rumi took out a little bear plushie from somewhere and held it by the legs, making it sway around on the table.
“When you’re performing Ushi No Koku Mairi, you have to be careful you aren’t seen. Otherwise, not only will the curse have no effect but it will also rebound back onto you, the caster. That’s curse reversal in action. In other words, if you know someone is planning to curse you in this way, you just need to go and watch them doing it. You’ll be safe, and they’ll receive all the pain and suffering that was meant for you. An elegant solution, don’t you think? Unfortunately, not all curses can be dealt with quite so easily.”
She got up and began rummaging through the paperwork on her desk.
“Let’s see, I think it was around here somewhere…”
“What are you looking for? I can help.”
“No, no, you’re a guest. Just wait there a minute.”
Rumi continued to sort through the papers, muttering, “Come on, come on…” She found what she was looking for before she reached the third “come on.”
“Here we go! It’s a pretty old one, but it should still work.”
She handed Toshihiko a handmade straw-paper talisman that looked like it had been cut into shape with scissors. The word DEMON had been scrawled on it in messy handwriting, and below that were some strange patterns Toshihiko didn’t recognize.
“This is a protective amulet I received from a spiritualist by the name of Ishigami. I don’t need it anymore, so you might as well take it.”
It sounded like she was trying to unload her unwanted junk on him.
“It’s something I just happened to have lying around, so I won’t charge you for it.”
She flashed him a smug, slightly crooked smile. Yep, this was the kind of person she was, all right. Toshihiko had no idea who this Ishigami fellow was, but if Rumi vouched for him, his skills had to be the real thing.
“So this is a curse reversal talisman?”
Rumi nodded.
“Yes. But Ishigami has his own way of doing things, and that’s bound up in the enchantment. He told me its power lies more in protection from the ill effects of curses than actually reflecting them back.”
“I see…,” Toshihiko muttered, staring at the talisman he’d been given.
“Sorry, I realize it must feel like a letdown.”
“Huh?” he replied without thinking and saw that Rumi was smiling at him.
“It’s much more satisfying if the person who cast the spell gets their just deserts and goes through the same thing you have, right? Actually, I do know a specialist who’s good at curse reversals. You met him yourself over in Tosa—”
“I’d prefer not to get him involved.”
Toshihiko rejected the idea before Rumi could finish. If the specialist lived in Tosa, there was only one person she could be talking about: Narikiyo Mononobe. He was a shaman living in the remote mountains of Kochi Prefecture. He was still young, and while not quite as pretty as Toshihiko, he was even more powerful than Rumi. Granted, Toshihiko was an amateur with no real idea where Rumi ranked in her “industry.” But according to Rumi herself, anyone who was anyone in the world of paranormal investigation knew who Mononobe was.
Toshihiko had met him once or twice ten or so years ago. They hadn’t hit it off. If it had just been a matter of Mononobe’s rough way of speaking, he wouldn’t have gotten so worked up about it. The young shaman’s strongly accented Tosa dialect tended to grate on the ears of born and bred Tokyoites like Toshihiko.
No, the real problem was that Mononobe clearly harbored some kind of animosity toward him. Rumi had looked over at them and said, “Oh, are you in a bad mood today, Mononobe?” which pretty much confirmed his suspicions. It wasn’t as if Toshihiko had done anything to offend the man or vice versa. People didn’t always get along. There was no real reason; it was simply a fact of life.
Even so, Toshihiko wanted to avoid crossing paths with Mononobe again if he could help it. He disliked the indiscriminate affection that people showed him purely based on his appearance, but that kind of groundless dislike was just as irritating.
“Yeah, that might be for the best,” Rumi agreed.
She’d doubtless noticed that there was no love lost between the two of them. But she hadn’t tried to mediate or force them together. That was very like her.
“He’s such a purely virtuous man, so he must find it hard to be around people like you.”
Toshihiko was in no position to object. Rumi knew all about his unsavory habit. He doubted she’d told Mononobe about Toshihiko’s stalking tendencies; the young shaman had probably used his powers to sense what kind of person he was. And Toshihiko disliked Mononobe just as much. It wasn’t anything in particular about him, simply a general feeling of poor affinity. In a weird way, it made sense. If Mononobe represented absolute good, it made sense that an outcast like Toshihiko wouldn’t be drawn to him.
“And if we did ask Mononobe for help, it would be tantamount to asking him to kill the woman who’s cursing you. I’m guessing you’d consider that a step too far?”
Toshihiko thought for a moment, then nodded. Midori was annoying sometimes, and the letters and the attack on Mirei had definitely crossed a line. But that didn’t mean he wanted her dead. Getting her to stop would be enough for him.
“In that case, take this for now. Carry it with you at all times.”
“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”
Rumi shook her head.
“I told you before, this is just something I happened to have on hand. No payment needed.”
“I couldn’t possibly do that. Not after you went to the trouble of meeting with me and listening to my problems.”
“If anything, I’m sorry this is the first time I’ve been able to do anything for you. I really am grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me, Sir Toshihiko.”
He felt happy to hear her call him by his old nickname again. She’d probably done it deliberately to cheer him up, but he didn’t care.
“You’ve followed me to all kinds of peculiar places, and there were a couple of cases I couldn’t have solved without your help,” said Rumi.
“Because I make such good bait, right?”
“See? You’re even aware of just how much an asset you are.”
Their eyes met, and they both smiled. Toshihiko felt like he’d gone right back to his high school days.
“At least let me pay to have your hand treated.”
Rumi held up her hand as if to signal him to stop. The blood had stopped flowing, but the long horizontal cut across her palm still looked painful.
“Oh, all right. I’ll go to the hospital and send you the bill. But I won’t take anything from you now. And if anything else happens, let me know.”
“You mean it’s not over?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Rumi let her injured hand fall to the side and held up a finger on the other hand.
“I doubt this solution will produce such clear-cut results as Mononobe’s curse reversal would have. But this talisman should at least allow you to expose the culprit. When that does happen, there’s no guarantee she’ll agree to talk things out with you. Be aware of that, Mr. Katayama.”
She was back to using a formal mode of address. He nodded without commenting on it.
“Do you think you’ll be able to handle her?”
“Hmm…”
Toshihiko was pretty confident in his ability to convince others to let him have his way. It wasn’t a skill he’d consciously cultivated, just another side effect of his beauty. People tended to want to please people they found attractive, and that had its uses.
In this case, though, they were talking about someone who had cast a curse. That was something no normal person would even think of doing. Midori—if it was her—wasn’t thinking rationally. He could flash a pretty smile at her and deliver a charming “Come on, knock all this off,” but he found it hard to believe that would work. Really convincing her to back down would be difficult. He told Rumi so now.
“I said that we were dealing with an accomplished hexer, remember? We’ve been talking under the assumption that she harbors ill will toward you, but it’s possible that she’s doing it subconsciously. She could be unaware of her power or how her feelings for you are influencing it. Not everyone with supernatural abilities works in a job like mine. If the culprit is doing this without realizing, there’s no point in trying to talk to her to begin with.”
That made sense.
“If solving conflicts was as simple as sitting down the two parties involved to talk to each other, there would be no need for people like me. Obviously, it’s better if we can resolve things quickly and peacefully, but we need to consider the worst-case scenario, too. So if anything else happens, contact me at once. I can’t promise I’ll come rushing, but even if I can’t be there, I’ll find a way to help you.”
That was the kind of reassurance he would have liked to write on a sticky note and stick to Detective Kamemura’s forehead.
“And will that be something you’ll charge me for?”
“Of course. I have to make a living, too, you know.”
Rumi gave an overly dramatic laugh. Toshihiko couldn’t help breaking into a smile as well.
He thanked her one more time and got to his feet. As he was leaving, he suggested the two of them go to dinner someday, this time not as a work thing. Smirking, Rumi said she’d consider it if he was paying.