“I believe there was a strange sound, just before the evil energy manifested.”
“Wait, what?”
“I might have just been imagining it… But there was a record playing right after that, as I recall.”
“Yes, I heard that too. That’s one of my company’s products. It’s a gramophone within a grandfather clock. I figured the owner is a customer.”
Munakata listened to their conversation without comment before addressing Akari.
“Miss Mitsukuri, where do you work again?”
“Sumimata Corporation. The grandfather clock in that residence is one of our large gramophone-style ones. They play records automatically at designated times. It’s one of our most popular products among our wealthy clientele.”
Of course, Akari wasn’t actively involved in the business’s trade herself, but she knew about its product lineup from working there.
“I see…”
“Mr. Munakata, is it all right if I order dessert?”
Munakata looked back at her in silence, arms crossed, lips pursed in distaste.
“Seriously? You’re not full yet?”
“I don’t want to miss this chance to eat really good food. But I do have dinner waiting for me tonight. An iced cream should bridge the gap nicely.”
“That sounds great, Mistress. I’d like one too.”
“…Fine. So no other problems since the job?”
Akari thought about her persisting, samurai-shaped problem back at the Bookhouse, and her expression stiffened.
Munakata picked up on this immediately.
“What is it?”
“What do you do if a Kotogami you’ve manifested refuses to leave?”
“Why, did that happen? Poor you. You’d think Tomohito hanging around like a bad smell would be trouble enough…”
Munakata leaned forward with interest as Akari explained the current situation. She was so engrossed in what she was saying, she never noticed the look on Tomohito’s face.
After topping off the meal with an iced cream apiece, Akari and Tomohito returned to the Bookhouse feeling well satisfied. There, they found Kansuke’s large body sprawled on the sofa in the living room, napping. An empty booze container and some snack wrappings lay on the floor nearby. He’d clearly been hitting the bottle. Akari didn’t remember buying those snacks, though.
Opening his eyes lazily, Kansuke raised a hand in greeting.
“Ah, you’re home. How were the pork cutlets?”
“Delicious. Where did those snacks come from?”
“I picked them up as a reward to myself for doing the grocery shopping.”
“That’s what I thought. Why are you still out of your book? It’s been ages since I manifested you. Why are you still here?”
After Kansuke had transformed back from a samurai sword into human form that day, he had sort of…lingered.
He should have been able to return to his Kotogatari by himself, but instead he’d been lounging around the Bookhouse, knocking back the alcohol and napping on the sofa like a slob. Even worse, he’d been going outside to buy himself snacks, carrying his Kotogatari around with him.
The Bookhouse was big enough that he wasn’t really in Akari’s way, and it was sort of useful having someone else around to pick up the groceries. But…Kotogami were supposed to disperse after a certain period of manifestation, weren’t they?
She’d asked Munakata if it could last several days, but he’d informed her that a single narration should have been effective for up to twenty-four hours only. Kansuke should have made his exit by now.
Upon hearing this, Munakata had closed his eyes as if pained by a sudden headache.
“This is highly abnormal. The only oddity around here that I know of who outlasts his initial narration should be Tomohito alone. What did you do?”
“I mean, I just…spoke of my honest feelings about Kansuke…”
“A Kotogami manifests into form by the power of a Narrator’s words, and this power is what sustains them. Once that power is used up, the Kotogami vanishes. Attempting to force it and remain in this form will only lead to the Kotogatari itself breaking down. And yet, Kansuke’s book still retains its condition, does it not?”
“Yes, it does. In fact, it even looks a bit cleaner and newer than before.”
“That must have been some narration. What exactly did you say—that’s what I’d like to know…”
Akari had already tried to evade his question and would offer nothing further. Munakata sighed at her with great annoyance. Jerk. Akari would remember that.
Ultimately, Munakata had told her to leave Kansuke be if he wasn’t harming anyone. It was clear that Munakata didn’t want to be bothered looking into the issue any further.
Remembering his irked scowl, Akari gritted her teeth. Just then, Kansuke hauled himself upright to a sitting position on the sofa, crossing his legs beneath him.
“Let’s think about it. Clearly, your narration struck a chord with me. That happens sometimes, you know.”
“This is correct. When a Narrator’s reading aligns with the true soul of a Kotogami, the manifestation period can be greatly elongated.”
“Yes, Munakata said as much…”
Tomohito’s interjection confirmed what Munakata had told her, but Akari remained unconvinced.
“So then why haven’t you tried to attack me?”
Kansuke’s dark rumored past as “LordSlayer” had become a curse, leading him to turn his sword on any Narrator, or “lord,” who called him forth. And yet, the past few days had passed without any sudden fits of murderous intent from Kansuke.
Instead, he’d been working his way through her finest booze, sharing meals with her, and welcoming her home after each workday.
The frightening demigod version of Kansuke Mishima was nowhere to be seen. Akari was even starting to wonder if she’d imagined it. But she could still see him swinging his sword at Amagai’s head every time she closed her eyes.
Kansuke watched her from his position on the sofa. He clearly knew what she was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.
“Hmm, I think I might know the reason behind that.”
“Really?”
Kansuke gave her a sharklike grin.
“I’ve already had two lords die on me. Making it a triple would just be too cliché.”
“Are you serious?”
Akari sat down on the sofa beside Kansuke to give her tired legs a rest. Was this really the time for flippancy? But then he put his big hand warmly on top of her head.
She glanced at him in surprise and saw a look of such fondness and warmth that she was shocked for a moment. Oddly, she had the feeling it wasn’t actually being directed at her.
What are you looking at? she wanted to say, but then Kansuke actually began ruffling her hair affectionately, rendering her speechless.
“And besides, any way you look at it, you’re not my lord, little girly.”
Akari pursed her lips, unimpressed by his ongoing facetiousness.
“I don’t even want to be your lord. Ugh, how annoying. Look, I brought you something. Do you want it?”
“Ah! What is it?”
“It’s a new type of liquor from the West. It’s called Scotch.”
Tomohito lifted the bottle of amber liquid from the bag with his gloved hands and held it high. Kansuke’s eyes gleamed with appreciation.
“Allow me to rephrase! You may not be my lord…er, lady…but you are my Mistress and I shall obey!”
Akari knew Kansuke was only hamming it up, but she was pleased all the same as she took the bottle from Tomohito’s hand and gave it to Kansuke.
“Make sure you savor it. It’s rare stuff.”
“I’ve already gotten a pretty good buzz, but I think I can manage another glass, since it looks very fine indeed.”
As Kansuke grinned at her, Mayoi suddenly appeared in the living room.
“Welcome home, Mistress. Dinner is prepared. Are you ready to eat?”
“Oh, yes! I’ve been looking forward to this niku jaga dish I’ve heard so much about!”
Akari jumped to her feet in excitement. Cradling the bottle of Western booze, Kansuke followed suit.
“The perfect time to crack this open and have a taste-test! Western cuisine with some Western spirits… Wait, why the face?”
“Don’t you dare go eating my portion as well as yours!”
“I don’t eat that much, you stingy mare.”
Akari narrowed her eyes at him before heading to the door. Snack thief. But wait. That was odd. Tomohito wasn’t leading the way as he usually did.
He was still standing by where they’d stashed the bags, his eyes narrowed. His expression was one of deep, unrequited longing.
“What’s wrong, Tomohito? Let’s go and eat dinner.”
“…It’s nothing, Mistress. I’ll bring your bags to your room and be right down.”
“Oh, that can wait. Actually, I can do it myself later.”
She was hungry, yes. But she didn’t want to eat while someone else was doing her errands for her. But Tomohito simply picked up the bags with his white-gloved hands and frowned.
“This is a job I enjoy. Being of use to one’s mistress is what makes a servant his happiest.”
“Er, really?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Akari shrugged and decided to drop it. Tomohito was acting as if he were a puppy and she was trying to take away his favorite chew toy.
“All right. Thank you, then.”
“Certainly, Mistress. I shall be along shortly.”
With his usual crisp bow, Tomohito left the room.
Akari watched him go, feeling as though something was wrong. He wasn’t his usual perky self. Had something happened?
Shrugging, Akari turned to head to the dining room. But Kansuke hadn’t gone ahead as she’d thought—he was standing there waiting for her.
“Hmm? What is it, Kansuke?”
“Ah… Never mind.”
For a second there, Kansuke’s eyes had been glinting with a sharp light. But the next moment, he wore his usual mild expression again. Hmm, thought Akari, nonetheless heading over to join Mayoi, who was gazing at her with an excited, expectant look on her little face.