It takes a forest to hide a tree.
So maybe it takes a city to hide a person.
If so, it makes sense that cursed spirits who were like people would establish their hideouts in a city. Cursed spirits might be more comfortable living in places full of fear, like deep in the mountains or in a dark, dense forest, where a human being would find it difficult to live. Nonetheless, cursed spirits plot the overthrow of modern society, so establishing bases in urban areas makes sense, whether they are on the offense or in retreat. And places where there are gatherings of negative emotions are best.
That’s how everyone working at a certain fraudulent company ended up murdered.
“These kinds of guys are easy. They group up and make a nest away from prying eyes, so it’s easy to wipe them out.”
Jogo laughed, grinding the cinders beneath his feet.
Approximately two minutes before, there had been six people alive in this office.
He had considered various ways of dealing with them, but burning was fastest.
Mahito was poking at a gaudy vase on a shelf. “People used this building, right? If there’s someone higher up, won’t that be a problem?”
Jogo smiled reassuringly and was about to answer when an incomprehensible voice interrupted.
“”
“Hey! No talking, Hanami! It makes my head itch!”
Hanami’s words sounded like nothing but noise, but they somehow conveyed his will directly into one’s head. Jogo found that unpleasant; it irritated him.
Jogo noticed Mahito looking at him.
Jogo’s irritation was obvious as he explained. “Hmph! Don’t worry! I asked Geto about our target. The bosses of these shady types usually know all about the prohibited stuff they’re getting up to.”
“So they’ll understand it’s the result of curses and stay away?”
“Exactly. This isn’t the kind of place that upstanding people frequent. so it’s a perfect hiding spot,” Jogo said.
“You sure?”
“What’s wrong, Mahito? Are you unsatisfied? What don’t you like? It’s a good location to prepare an attack on the city and to flee to if necessary.”
“Uh … yeah, I guess so, but …”
“Yeah? Well, spit it out!!”
“The interior decor is really tasteless,” Mahito said.
“Hunh?!” A small eruption came from Jogo’s head with a poof!
His single eye narrowed, forming a ridge like a mountain range on
his brow.
“It’s gaudy!” Mahito said. “Look at this shiny vase and golden lion! And this cheap sideboard!”
“What are you talking about?! I don’t know what’s gotten into you that you’re being so picky these days!”
“It’s the movies.”
“Movies? You like movies? They’re nothing but human superficialities,” Jogo said.
“Actually, they’re a reliable resource to study the soul,” Mahito said, smiling. A human looking at him then might think he resembled an elementary school student puffed up with pride as he recited knowledge he’d acquired for a book report. “To be honest, it isn’t a very interesting topic for me either, but I don’t exactly dislike human visual aesthetics. Still, this room is too colorful. It hurts my eyes.”
“Quit complaining like a spoiled brat,” Jogo said. “We can burn or throw away anything we don’t like.”
“No, I’m going to find my own place where I can relax.”
“What? Hey! Where are you going?!”
Ignoring Jogo’s protests, Mahito waved his hand over his back and disappeared, like smoke or wind.
“Urgh … Maybe it’s because human fear created him, but he’s too frivolous, even for a curse. Movies, of all things!”
As he grumbled, Jogo removed a pipe from his pocket and tucked it in his mouth.
It didn’t look like a normal pipe. It resembled a face, and it screamed when he sucked through it.
“Drat that Mahito!”
Jogo swiveled his eye to survey the room.
“Now this place looks tasteless to me too!”
“”
“I said shut up!!”
Mahito would have to find a suitable hideout for himself.
As he strolled around town, he alternated turning left or right each time he came upon a traffic signal, he followed cats prancing along ahead of him, and he walked in the direction of clouds whose shapes struck his fancy. As he did so, he felt keenly how humorous humans were. The city belonged to them, but none of the humans passing through the streets walked as freely as Mahito. Everyone looked tense, bound by inhibitions and vanity, living shortsighted lives in a vast and fathomless city.
Without ever knowing how infinitely large the sky was, they took a city of stone they had divided up, further divided it as their souls saw fit, and lived subserviently within those narrow confines.
Mahito had come to understand their worldview through the words they used. For example, they called this “morality,” and they called that “common sense,” and they called that “emotion.” Their souls received external stimuli and they merely metabolized them, like machines. This process controlled their bodies, so they feared the judgment of others, sought the world’s favor, and relinquished their freedom.
“What a waste.”
The fetters of affectation, a human creation, bound them all.
This was why curses had to change human beings. If all they could do was crawl around clumsily like that, they should surrender their
world to others.
That’s what Mahito thought.
Think as your soul desires. Walk where the wind blows.
The sun would soon sink in the west. He could hear a river murmuring.
“This isn’t bad.”
The hideout Mahito found was under a large bridge that crossed over a river. It was a tunnel as wide open at each end as a Buddhist temple. What looked like plumbing passed through the tunnel, and clear water ran toward the river. He suspected it was purified wastewater, so it didn’t bother him. The air was damp, and he smelled a vegetative odor, like moss, but the tunnel was spacious enough to bound around, and the cool feeling of concrete was refreshing.
Cursed spirits like certain seasons. Negative emotions accumulate in humans from the end of winter toward the spring. They reach peak maturity during the rainy season. Inside the moist tunnel, the air was humid like in the rainy season. The dim light was gloomy, which was perfect for breeding fear, and the damp was comfortable.
“Yes, this will do nicely.”
Following one’s instincts is the best way to choose a place to live.
It is probably what’s best for humans too, but while they never did it intuitively, Mahito was able to decide without hesitation. Drifting was freedom, and so was feeling at ease.
In high spirits, he strode across the concrete floor, his footsteps ringing out on the hard surface.
He was thinking about how smoothly the metabolizing of souls would go in this welcoming atmosphere when he noticed the presence of … something.
“Hm?”
At first glance, it didn’t appear to be anything more than a bundle of old rags. He thought he was looking at trash, the result of humans and their littering. With the silhouette of a large drawstring sack slumped leaning against the wall, it was motionless. As he looked at it, though, Mahito realized it had the shape of a soul.
Oh, so it’s alive.
It was a man wrapped in an old cloth. His long hair and beard had obscured his human shape. His exact age wasn’t readily apparent. He might have been sixty or over eighty—elderly, at any rate.
His presence was a nuisance. Mahito had finally found a hideout, and someone was already living there. Of course, it would be no trouble getting rid of the man, but still, it was unpleasant, like noticing a stain on the wall of a new house.
Mahito released a small sigh and extended his hand toward the old man.
Suddenly, the man spoke.
“Sorry if you find me unpleasant.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know what you’ve come for, but finding an old-timer like me here must have spoiled your mood. But I don’t have anywhere else to go either.”
Mahito was taken aback.
The old man was clearly aware of Mahito and addressing him. That wouldn’t be surprising if they had both been human, but Mahito was a cursed spirit. The eyes of a mere human shouldn’t be capable of apprehending the existence of cursed spirits.
Of course, it wasn’t impossible. Humans with innate cursed energy could perceive cursed spirits, and that wasn’t exactly rare.
What drew Mahito’s interest further was the fact that the old man didn’t have any eyes. Horrible burn scars covered the sockets where his eyes should have been.
Even sorcerers looked at the world through their eyes. In addition to being aware, sorcerers relied on vision. For that reason, most sorcerers used sunglasses to hide where they were looking. They did it to avoid arousing suspicion in cursed spirits, as well as to preserve their emotional equilibrium in a world teeming with curses.
But this old man wasn’t like that.
“You can see me?”