While walking on his regular route to the Sasaki Agency, Aoyama found himself looking around with more caution than usual. He had a guilty conscience. He’d brought Nanaka with him without getting her parents’ permission. After she told him the Haruko story, he decided it would be best to deal with this situation as quickly as possible. To do that, he had to bring the case to Rumi.
When he told Nanaka he wanted to get in touch with her parents before taking her to the agency, she’d panicked and begged him not to. She’d even said she would rather be stuck with this problem than get her parents involved.
“My mom and dad hate ghosts. They get mad if you just talk about them. They’ll get mad at you, too, Kouki. I don’t want that to happen…”
When she said that, looking up at him with tears in her eyes, he hadn’t had the strength to turn her down. She’d told her parents that she was going over to a friend’s house before leaving that morning. As a responsible adult, Aoyama knew he should have insisted that Nanaka be honest with her parents about what they were doing. But he didn’t have it in him.
By virtue of his grandfather’s exorcism business, Aoyama had grown up in a family where everyone took the existence of the supernatural for granted. Most people weren’t like that. Even among fans of horror and the occult, most only viewed that realm as a form of entertainment, not something they genuinely believed in.
Whenever Aoyama’s peers asked him what he was doing these days, he would be deliberately vague about it. He was “helping out” with his family’s church, that was all. The idea of being rejected by society was scary enough for a grown man. How much worse must it be for Nanaka, who was only a child and had to fear being rejected by her own parents?
“All right. I’d like to take you to someone who knows about this kind of stuff, but not today. Unlike that classmate of yours, though, this is a real expert. I’ll go and ask her to look into it for you. You might have to tell your story again, but for now, I think you should go home and—”
“No!” Nanaka screamed, her face turning red. “I don’t want to see Haruko anymore! She’s so scary, and… Her face, it’s all splotchy and gross…”
In a weird way, her childish choice of words only made it sound scarier.
“Please, Kouki. Let me talk to this lady today. If I ask her face-to-face, then maybe…”
At that point, she slumped to the ground and began to sob.
“But if I take you there without telling your mom or dad, I’ll be making you lie to your parents. I can’t do that.”
“I-I’m not…lying… Kouki…I thought we were friends.”
“I…”
It’d been a paper-thin argument, but faced with those imploring eyes, he just hadn’t been able to say no. He had to relent.
“You know, looking around like that only makes you seem more suspicious.”
This was embarrassing. A grade schooler was giving him tips on how to be inconspicuous.
“You’re a cool guy, and you have a really nice, um…vibe? That’s what all the grown-ups say about you. There’s nothing strange about you and me walking along together.”
“Oh, really?”
Aoyama often got told he was “cute,” although he was never quite sure whether people meant it in a good way. When he was a kid, he’d been teased for his mixed race heritage and for looking somewhat feminine. Even now, it was rare for him to go very long without meeting someone who seemed to be subtly mocking him in one way or another. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that, in other people’s eyes, he was someone shady, someone who wasn’t to be trusted.
He had an innocent school kid doing her best to encourage him, and he still couldn’t stop second-guessing his every move. Some grown-up he was. He tried to show some more confidence and started walking with a slightly wider stride.
The stairs up to the office were steep, but since there wasn’t any elevator, they had to climb them anyway. Aoyama had once asked how elderly clients were supposed to get to them, and Rumi had replied that she’d just carry them. He’d actually seen her hoist a client on her back and bring them up the stairs on several occasions. It was surprising and also a little unsettling—if Rumi was this strong in both body and mind, then what did she need him for?
Nanaka did her best to ascend the long flights of stairs. Aoyama rushed up the last few steps to get ahead of her and opened the door to the office. She smiled and walked in after him.
“Rumi, I know it’s sudden, but—”
He got as far as that before his breath caught in his throat.
“T-Toshihiko… You’re here?” he squeaked.
Toshihiko Katayama. In Aoyama’s personal experience, this man was the single most beautiful creature in existence. His beauty was obvious even from a single glance. Sometimes, attractive people were described in terms of resembling famous actors, but there was no one on the same level as Toshihiko. Any attempt at comparison was a fool’s errand.
Looking at Toshihiko’s face made him think of the fallen angel, Lucifer, the morning star. His looks certainly did have a devilish quality to them. Aoyama had met him several times before and even worked with him on some cases, but no matter how often they met, he could never get used to his appearance.
It was a kind of beauty that surpassed mundane things like race, age, and gender. One look at him was enough for Aoyama to tense up, making interactions with Toshihiko awkward. Part of it was guilt, too—not liking someone just because they were (incredibly) good-looking was something he was ashamed of.
“It’s been a while. Six months, I think?”
Toshihiko tilted his head to the side and smiled. Aoyama instinctively looked away. Nanaka was also looking at the ground, her face blushing bright red.
“He’s like an angel…,” she murmured.
In a lot of religious images, angels were rather grotesque-looking, with the exception of the four archangels, who functioned like heaven’s PR managers. Demons were the ones who were depicted as beautiful human figures. Regardless, anyone would agree that Toshihiko gave the impression of someone on a higher level than normal humanity.
“I hope you’re not going to keep ignoring me. I have feelings, too, you know.”
Rumi stood up from the sofa in the periphery of his view and walked over to the door.
“Who’s the girl?”
“Oh, sorry…” He hastened to explain. “This is Nanaka Yokozawa. Our new client.”
“Nice to meet you,” Nanaka said, bowing.
“What a polite young lady. Would you like a drink? I’m afraid we only have tea, coffee, and tap water, though.”
Rumi took Nanaka’s hand and led her to the sofa. It was rare to see her treat a child so kindly. A client had once brought along their elementary-school-age son, and Rumi had said—rather bluntly—that he’d get in the way of the discussion and would have to wait outside. Of course, the client had gotten angry and left. But even if she disliked kids as a rule, Rumi would probably find a well-mannered one like Nanaka easy enough to get along with.
“I should probably make myself scarce. I’m sure I can go kill some time for a while.”
Toshihiko took a quick glance at Nanaka and made to leave.
“I-it’s all right… You need the expert lady’s help with something, too, right?”
Nanaka still couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Are you sure? Isn’t there an issue with confidentiality?”
“If the client says it’s all right, there shouldn’t be a problem. Honestly, though, most people have trouble relaxing enough to speak freely when you’re around. Maybe you could sit over there until we’re done?”
Rumi pointed to a folding chair propped up against the window on the other side of the room.
“You can look out the window and watch the world going by.”
“Whatever you say.”
Without a word of complaint, Toshihiko unfolded the chair and took a seat with his back to the rest of them. He and Rumi behaved in such a comfortable, easygoing way around each other. Maybe that was only natural given how long they’d known the other, but it was easy to think there might be a deeper connection between them. In contrast, Aoyama felt like he would always be her bumbling sidekick no matter how much time he spent with her. He couldn’t help feeling a little jealous.
“Aoyama.”
He snapped back to reality to see Rumi looking at him.