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A week had passed in a flash since Akari summoned the Kotogami Kansuke Mishima.
As punishment for not properly explaining about Kotogatari books, Akari had stayed mad at Tomihito for a full twenty-four hours. Eventually, though, being addressed as “Mister” broke him and he’d started bawling for real. She’d relented then.
She had to admit she’d never really bothered to find out more about Kotogatari herself, so maybe she was partially at fault. But she stuck to her original policy. She wasn’t going to get too deeply involved.
Munakata had sent over a handbook on Kotogatari retrieval, and after work each day, Akari spent the evenings poring over it, trying to learn all she could.
“Once manifested, a Kotogami can use its powers to affect the real world, and it can repeat behaviors recorded in its Kotogatari. Once a narration has occurred, the Kotogami falls under the influence of its Narrator and will answer to no other.”
“Isn’t there some way to stop it?”
“Apart from waiting until the power of the narration spell has run its course, one could knock the Narrator unconscious, thus breaking the spell. Or one could seize hold of the physical Kotogatari volume and perform a re-narration to highjack command from the original Narrator.”
“Mayoi, is all this true?”
“It’s true, Mistress.”
The three of them sat together, Mayoi by Akari’s side and Tomohito across from them. When Akari turned to Mayoi for corroboration, Tomohito looked extremely sad.
But Akari ignored him, books and materials spread out in front of her. She questioned Mayoi instead of him.
“So Kotogami can only be seen by normal humans when they’ve been manifested?”
“Inside the book repositories, like this Bookhouse, they can be seen by regular humans, and they can also freely move about.”
“A book repository is sort of like sacred ground for spirits, did I get that right?”
“Yes. We can’t go outside, but we can eat.”
“I see… But none of the Kotogami housed in this Bookhouse have appeared…”
Mayoi puffed up her chest proudly. “The spirits enshrined on the Sacred Bookshelves can’t come out unless a Narrator reads them first.”
“But, Mayoi, you came when called. I didn’t have to read your Kotogatari. Why?”
“I’m different. This house and I are connected. After all, how can I serve the master of the house from inside my book?”
Akari recalled how Mayoi had appeared all by herself in the house that first day. So Mayoi was different from the other Kotogami after all.
Mayoi swung her legs and giggled, seeming very pleased with herself.
Incidentally, the reason why Akari was studying in the dining room was because no one had replaced the busted light bulb in the study.
Pencil scratching across the page, Akari smiled to see how many notes she’d made already. Progress! Just then the door opened and she looked up.
Kansuke walked into the dining room as Tomohito fixed him with a hostile scowl.
“Ah, hello, girly. So you’re home, then. Work, work, work. Good for you.”
“Hello, Kansuke. Yes, I have to work to eat. That’s how I buy food. Hey, hold on… Are you drunk?”
“Ah yes, it’s been a day-drinking kinda day. Thanks to you, I finally got to taste alcohol again after so long.”
“But I didn’t buy any booze while shopping today…”
Akari frowned at Kansuke’s ruddy-cheeked face, and all of a sudden Mayoi gasped, jumped up, and ran to the kitchen. She soon returned with a tearful expression.
“The cooking sake is all gone!”
“You drank…the cooking sake?!”
Akari’s jaw dropped, but Kansuke just shrugged.
“You bought the good kind. Better to drink it before it’s past its peak. It was delish.”
“Wait, what’s that in your mouth? Is that…the dried squid I bought for my snack time?”
“You’ve got strange taste, girly. Dried squid’s an old fart’s snack.”
Kansuke grinned as he teased her, chewing on the dried squid. Akari glared at him.
This kind of thing had been happening all week.
But before she could say anything else, Tomohito got to his feet and leaped at Kansuke.
“Kansuke, how dare you drain our finances?! Akari is too kind, but you’ve taken advantage! Exactly how many bottles of booze have you sunk this week?!”
“How am I supposed to remember? Everything was delicious, though. I’m not picky.”
“So you don’t mind if I only buy the cheapest stuff from now on?”
“Whoa, let’s not go that far.”
Kansuke whipped his head around to look at Akari, mild alarm in his eyes.
Akari got it, though. She had a taste for the finer things in life herself, when such things were available. But even as she nodded, Tomohito turned on her.
“You can’t possibly be fine with this, Mistress Akari! Isn’t the only reason you took that job tomorrow because of money?”
“Well, Kansuke has agreed to accompany me. I at least owe him a drink.”
Right. Never work for free—wasn’t that Akari’s policy, after all?
As far as she could tell, Kansuke Mishima was nothing more than your typical drunkard.
“All right, I’ll take on this bodyguarding job. But I won’t work for free.”
After she’d summoned him and explained what she wanted him to do, Kansuke had immediately requested to receive his pay in alcohol.
Akari had agreed, and ever since then, he’d been following a predictable daily pattern. He’d wake up and sink some booze, calling it “hair of the dog,” then he’d crash around noon, saying his hangover had finally caught up to him. Then in the evening he’d be back at it for what he called “happy hour,” which somehow lasted deep into the night. If left to his own devices, he’d drain an entire bottle of strong shochu a day. Akari’s wallet was starting to feel the strain.
Kotogami or not, she couldn’t ask him to work for free, so Akari had started picking up alchohol on her way home from work each day.
Seeing him in this drunken state, though, Akari was starting to entertain doubts about his ability to act as a competent bodyguard for her on the day in question.
She was also embarrassed because the old fellow from the local alcohol shop had started to recognize her. That thought made her cringe as Tomohito continued doggedly.
“Also, Kansuke, while it’s true that Akari has some old-fashioned, some may say lowbrow, tastes, that’s only part of her charm!”
“Tomohito. Shut up.”
“Mistress?!”
Tomohito’s jaw flopped as Akari shot him a frosty glare.