But what kind of person was Itta Kanbara? She admired and was attracted to him, but on a personal level, she didn’t know him at all. He certainly wasn’t close enough with Mio to say things like “I know you” and “I understand you.”
Kanbara lowered his hand and rolled his head as if to loosen a terrible shoulder ache. His eyes narrowed.
He stared at the house behind Mio—at the bamboo grove out back.
“It’s all…this place’s fault.”
She was speechless, breathless. The voice had come from behind her.
“Give it up, Itta Kanbara.”
Mio straightened up with a start and spun around.
A boy in a collared shirt emerged from behind the house. It was a familiar scene. This was the second time Mio had met him here.
“Shiraishi…”
It was Kaname Shiraishi. However, he wasn’t watching Mio. His eyes were fixed on Kanbara.
Mio wasn’t afraid. Despite how creepy Shiraishi had been before, his presence actually filled her with relief. Even realizing how conveniently her allegiance had switched, Mio felt saved.
Someone had finally directly intervened in this relationship of endless apologies that bound her to Kanbara.
Shiraishi stepped forward.
Kanbara stared at him with disgust. “This is the transfer student?” he spit. “You’re Mio’s stalker? Sickening. C’mon, Mio, let’s go. Get inside, now…”
“Family massacre.”
Huh…? The word stuck in Mio’s throat. That ominous pronouncement had come from Shiraishi. Mio’s feet were rooted in place. Kanbara didn’t move, either. He watched Shiraishi with eyes wide.
“You slip in through a single family member, ensorcelling them while you wriggle your way in among the group. You browbeat them with your logic, convince the other party they’re in the wrong, and impose your supposedly correct will upon them. Once you’re in among the family, it’s only a matter of time until they’re all under your control. To think you’d try it again…”
Shiraishi chuckled to himself. Those sharp, fanglike teeth gleamed in a wicked grin. He pulled out something that looked like a silver bell.
It rang.
Kanbara’s eyes went wide—even more so than before.
“I’m here to perform an exorcism. You won’t kill this family.”
“You…!”
The bell chimed again. The wind picked up, and the bamboo behind the house swayed.
The sound was clear and cleansing, but it was drowned out by a hideous scream that tore the air. Mio could hardly believe her ears.
Kanbara crumpled to the ground. He was cradling his head and rolling in agony. Mio put a hand to her mouth, shocked by the sight. She rushed to help him, grabbed his arm, and then recoiled with a shriek.
Kanbara’s arm—his entire body—was hot. Not with fever. It burned like heated metal.
“I wouldn’t touch him,” said Shiraishi, still holding the bell. His tone was calm. For the first time today, he glanced at Mio. He sounded disinterested. “I told you it was my final warning.”
Mio was speechless. Kanbara was in agony. His handsome face twisted, and his hands clawed at his face, throat, and head in anguish.
Senpai, Mio thought, yet her arms and legs were rooted in place now. His face was covered in blood from where he tore at it. The sight was so terrible it kept her from trying to help. Kanbara snapped his head back, jerking.
“I warned you multiple times,” Shiraishi continued, seemingly bored by the sight of Kanbara’s distress. His empty eyes fixed upon Mio instead. “I warned you not to get so close to Itta Kanbara. It’s a good thing you have bamboo growing by your house.”
The bamboo grove that Kanbara had called “creepy.”
The wind blew, eliciting a bell-like sound from the bamboo. With each ring, Kanbara’s body convulsed harder.
“Shiraishi…what are you?” Mio asked. For all the confusion in the situation, there was one thing she understood.
Shiraishi had probably—maybe—come to help her.
When he didn’t reply, Mio pressed him, keeping an eye on the suffering Kanbara. “What happened to him? Why did you…”
Shiraishi clicked his tongue in annoyance. It seemed unnecessarily antagonistic, but at least it indicated emotion. This was preferable to when Mio had no idea how he felt at all.
“I knew from the moment I first saw you. I knew you were entranced.”
Mio recalled how he’d stared intently at her on his first day in class.
Shiraishi directed his attention to Kanbara’s writhing form at his feet. “I knew he was going to get you, so I asked if you’d let me come to your house.”
The bamboo rustled.
“Can I come to your house today?”
His voice overlapped with the cleansing scent of the bamboo. She was stunned. So much of this didn’t make sense to her, but one thing did.
The day that Shiraishi came walking out of the bamboo behind her home, he must have done something in the grove before he left.
“I wondered what sort of place you live in.”
He was probably…
“But… But…” Mio’s lips trembled as the fear of those moments returned to her. “When you just tell someone you want to see their house, it’s not—”
“Not right? How’s what I did any different from Itta Kanbara’s actions? He tried to work his way into your home more persistently than I did—the only difference was the amount of time he spent and the order of events. He came to your house several times, Harano.”
Shiraishi’s tone was frank. Mio thought of him as so inscrutable that the simple act of calling her by name was surprising.
“They try to foist their darkness on others,” Shiraishi said. He kept his gaze trained on Kanbara. “They move around from town to town, spreading their shadows and dragging others down with them. And we’re the ones who sever the connections to their victims and exorcise them.”
Mio’s legs trembled terribly now that she’d heard him mention “family massacre.” It was insane. Impossible. And yet Shiraishi’s words were strangely persuasive.
Mio should have thought it was strange for Kanbara to say he was coming to her house, but she hadn’t been able to defy him. She hadn’t been able to resist him the way she had Shiraishi, all because of a difference in time and reason.
Normally, the order in which you do things makes all the difference. There’s a proper sequence. Mio wished to tell Kanbara as much, but he’d saved her. As frustrating as it was, she understood.
“Speak,” Shiraishi commanded Kanbara. The ringing continued. An odd light shone in Shiraishi’s eyes, cold but not angry. His face was eerie and unreadable.
“Your family… Your father is…”
And then there was movement.
“Dammit!”
Kanbara was on his feet, covering his face.
It was hard to imagine where he’d found the speed and strength, considering the agony he’d suffered moments earlier. His forearms scrubbed over his face, his bloodied visage visible beneath them. He glared at Shiraishi silently—then pounced.
A sound like a wild beast’s roar thundered. It struck like a physical blow. The rustling of the bamboo and the bell’s chime vanished.
Kanbara fled. His agility was alarming. The way he rushed up the road defied reality, like a special effect from a movie.
Kaname Shiraishi held his breath. He chased after Kanbara, not bothering to tell Mio to stay put or anything else.
“No, wait!” Mio insisted. Her mind was pure chaos. She had been so terrified and creeped out by Shiraishi, but now she was pulling on his arm without realizing it.
He grimaced back at her. “What?”
“…I feel like this wouldn’t have happened at all if you hadn’t come.”
Mio had gotten close to Kanbara only because she needed help with Shiraishi. Didn’t that mean he was the cause?
Maybe he was the reason Senpai had gone crazy? Perhaps the kind and caring Senpai could come back…
“Doesn’t matter,” Shiraishi stated, cleaving through Mio’s hopes. “This would have happened whether I was here or not. It was only a question of how soon.”
“But…”
She had been through a terrifying experience, but not because of Shiraishi—because of Kanbara. Mio could admit that much. Recalling that long string of messages late at night made her spine freeze. How often had she apologized, thinking she was trapped with no escape?
Shiraishi narrowed his eyes, then sighed and gazed at Mio.
“I couldn’t decide whether to ignore you or use you as bait. That’s why I gave you that warning.”
“That’s what the message on my desk was?”
“…I wanted to startle you as little as possible,” he muttered, looking awkward for the first time Mio could remember. She realized that it was true. He’d written that message with the extremely fine and menacing letters to warn her.
Mio was aghast. Shiraishi had no sociability at all. He didn’t understand the proper social distance he ought to maintain with others. Now it was clear that was the simple truth behind his personality. He didn’t appear sinister anymore. As strange as it was to consider, Kanbara filled her with much more revulsion. And she had liked him so much…
Shiraishi wasn’t frightening.
“I said ‘final warning’ because it was genuinely your final warning. Admittedly, if you pulled away from him after that, I would’ve had to come up with another plan to deal with him.” Shiraishi turned away, shaking Mio’s hand off his arm. “I’m sorry for using you as a lure.”
He took off running after Kanbara. Before he was out of sight, he looked back.
“Keep the bamboo grove like that for a while. He should give up on pursuing you.”
“Bait.” “Lure.”
They were such rude things to say. It wasn’t fair.
As Shiraishi hurried out of sight, Mio lost all the strength in her core. She dropped onto her backside, as though an invisible person had pushed her down. And she couldn’t get back up on her feet.
The little scraps of a story Shiraishi had left her weren’t enough for her to piece together the story. It was difficult to believe what had happened, but the image of Kanbara writhing in agony on the ground remained clear in her mind. The way he’d glared with such fury, face covered in blood, at Shiraishi, not Mio.
Kanbara-senpai never looked at me. He didn’t make any excuses or give any explanations. He just ran. After all his criticisms and LINE messages, he hadn’t cared about Mio at all when it counted most.
“They try to foist their darkness on others.”
“And we’re the ones who sever the connections to their victims and exorcise them.”
Mio didn’t understand or trust everything Shiraishi had said. However, she’d seen enough to believe.
Kanbara-senpai was not a normal person, and Kaname Shiraishi likely wasn’t, either.
The neighborhood was quiet. The wind that had shaken the bamboo grove earlier was entirely gone. Kanbara had screamed at the top of his lungs, but no one had emerged from the nearby homes to inspect the commotion.
Mio dragged her weak legs to the front yard. A few moments later, she was through the front door.
“…I’m home.”
“Welcome back, dear,” her mother greeted her casually from farther inside. Instantly, Mio felt something hot surge into her chest. Sounds emanated from the kitchen.
“He should give up on pursuing you.”
She’d been saved.