Yoshimura furrowed his brow. “If something like this is making the rounds, I suppose that means something happened to ‘him.’”
“Has Tsumugi been by here recently?”
“No. I’d been on a break from working the café for a while, but I haven’t seen her.”
The conversation went on, the others ignoring Asa as she struggled to follow what they were talking about. Without much else to do, she sipped her coffee and looked around the café. The place had quite the subdued atmosphere for an establishment run by Ghouls. They probably got a lot of human customers as well. That made Asa somewhat jealous.
“He may have been neglecting his other info-gathering duties because he’s been caught up with that other thing. I’ll look into it,” Yoshimura said.
“All right. I’ll go check up on Tsumugi then.”
The conversation seemed to have wrapped up. Seeing Uta get to his feet, Asa hurriedly followed after him. “Uta, what are we doing next?”
“I’m going to Tsumugi’s house. She’s here in the 20th Ward, so it’s not far.”
Soon Asa would be face-to-face with this Tsumugi. Would she have the sullen demeanor of a Ghoul artisan? Or would she possess the refined beauty that she’d conveyed through her mask? Asa could feel the anticipation blossoming within her.
“This place?”
Unlike Anteiku, where Uta had taken her just previously, there were few people roaming the streets here on the outskirts of town. The small, old, Western-style house looked like it could easily have been haunted.
Uta knocked on the door, but there was no response from within.
“Guess she’s not home.”
“No, I think she is,” Uta said, and true to his words, Asa soon felt someone approaching from inside the house. She swallowed a breath and waited.
At last, the door opened, revealing—
“What’s with you, old lady?” Asa blurted. She was an elderly woman, probably in her eighties, her face crisscrossed with wrinkles and her back hunched. She gave off none of the same menace Yoshimura had, and her scent was human. “What are you, the housekeeper or something? We’re here for Tsumugi. Go get her for us.”
How dare this dirty old hag impose upon them so? Asa was dejected, but in response to her slights, the old woman said, “Yes, I am Tsumugi.”
“Huh?” Asa’s train of thought was momentarily broken. She turned to Uta. “No, this can’t be …”
“Tsumugi Yamagata. She’s a seamstress,” Uta said, introducing the old woman.
“Whaaat? You’re telling me this little old witch of a lady made that mask?”
Tsumugi’s expression remained unchanged despite Asa’s rude words. “At least a witch would be far more charming than you Ghouls,” she replied.
Her reply had a more troubling connotation, though. “Oh, you old hag …”
She’d been able to see that they were Ghouls. Asa glared at Tsumugi warily, but the woman simply muttered, “Doesn’t make much difference to me either way,” before turning her gaze to Uta. “You don’t usually come all the way out here. Is it about something I made, like the girl says?”
“Yes,” Uta replied.
Tsumugi looked back and forth between the pair of them. “Come in,” she told them, welcoming them inside.
The doorway opened up into a large lobby. Despite the house’s ostentatious appearance from the outside, the interior was rather Spartan. The living room the woman led them to had only the bare minimum of furnishings.
“Now, what’s all this about, then?” Tsumugi asked as she sat down on the sofa, facing her visitors.
“Right here … This is one of your masks, right?” Uta asked.
Tsumugi put on a pair of reading glasses and inspected the photo she’d been handed. “Yes, I’m sure of it. This is one of mine. What are you doing with this picture, though?”
“Apparently the police are searching for whoever made this mask.”
“The police?” Tsumugi raised an eyebrow. “Hmph … I see. And so that’s why you’re here.” She nodded in understanding, her body sinking farther into the sofa. “Well, this changes nothing. Now, if you’d be so kind as to not let your silly suspicions run wild.”
Asa didn’t quite know what was going on, but she could tell Uta had come here out of concern for Tsumugi, and to see the older woman rebuff that thoughtfulness ticked Asa right off.
“Hey now, you old bag! I don’t know what your deal is, but Uta came all this way for you. What’s with the attitude?” She rose to her feet threateningly.
But Tsumugi paid Asa no heed, and tossed the photograph back dismissively. “If that’s all, then I’d like you to leave now.”
“Listen, you damn hag, I—”
“It’s all right, Asa.”
Uta’s words cut off any further complaint, but Asa still rankled inwardly, clenching her jaw in frustration. Uta gave her a look before turning his attention back to Tsumugi and broaching a new subject. “Actually, there was one other thing I came for.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to try decorating my next mask with some embroidery. I’d appreciate it if you’d show me your design sketches and needlework samples. A look at quality work might give me some good ideas.”
Asa blinked at that. She’d had no idea Uta was considering anything of the sort. Tsumugi raised an eyebrow, apparently just as surprised, her gaze wandering about as she seemed to consider it.
Finally, with a disgusted sigh, she replied, “Embroidery wouldn’t suit your disgusting masks.”
Asa trailed a bit behind Uta after they left Tsumugi’s manor. “So you’ve been planning on doing some embroidery?” she asked.
“Yeah. There’ve been some masks that I thought would look good with that sort of thing.”
“So then are you going to be going back to that old lady’s house?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stretch my legs if I wanted her to check my needlework.”
It was rare for Uta to adorn his masks with needlework, but Asa was curious to see what sort of things could be made with that process. She looked back at Tsumugi’s house, and made a decision for herself.