In this world, there may be a night that is too dark.
✦ ✦ ✦
Twilight had come again.
Conversely, that meant there should still have been time before nightfall, and yet…
Is it because it’s December? Is that why the sky’s so dark?
On the path that led up to the front door, under the giant evergreen sacred anise tree, Seiji sniffled noisily. He took a scant three puffs on his cigarette, careful not to draw the smoke down into his lungs, then ground it out under his sneaker. The words What a waste! rampaged around in his head, but he got rid of them along with the butt, then coughed dryly.
Sure enough, maybe because his nose was still stuffed up, the cig had tasted genuinely nasty. The smoke hadn’t stung his throat, though, so it was probably safe to consider himself recovered.
If he’d healed up this much, pushing himself a bit wouldn’t be a problem. He’d cultivated this self-made health barometer over long years of part-time work, though if a doctor found out about it, Seiji would have immediately been targeted for the mother of all lectures.
Still, who’d have figured I’d get laid up with a cold for six whole days, right into the next month?
A week earlier, he’d spent several hours running around in the rain chasing sunekosuri and had gotten soaked. Hunger and the resulting full-body fatigue seemed to have taken their toll, because the next morning he’d collapsed with a 102-degree fever.
After that, he’d had the whole nine yards: cough, runny nose, chills, and joint pain, with nausea as the cherry on top. However, he’d turned down around-the-clock nursing and spent the whole time holed up in his bedroom alone.
After all, the others had much bigger problems to deal with.
That was true of both Seiji’s owner—er, employer—Shiroshi and of Shiroshi’s attendant Beniko.
“Your father—Demon King Sanmoto Gorouzaemon has passed away. In addition, it appears that Evil God Shinno Akugorou perished at some point last night.”
Beniko’s face had been as white as death. Even now, Seiji couldn’t get the sight out of his mind.
Demon King Sanmoto Gorouzaemon was a great yokai who had once won fame through his appearance in the Ino Mononoke Roku, and young Shiroshi was his son and heir. As far as Shiroshi was concerned, his father was his only blood relation and his one and only supporter.
Just his dad dying has to hurt, and on top of that…
Since Shiroshi was only half yokai, an absolute horde of enemies had it in for him. At this point, he was completely surrounded by foes.
All washed up, nowhere left to go, fading to black—the more Seiji thought about it, the darker the gathering clouds up ahead seemed to get.
Even so, Shiroshi was alive and here with him. The mere fact that Shiroshi wasn’t dead was enough to make Seiji feel as if everything would work out somehow.
But—
He interrupted his own train of thought with a massive sneeze, and a shudder shook its way down his spine. Apparently, he was still far from 100 percent.
If I relapse now, it’ll be a total dumpster fire.
Hunching against the blustering, icy wind, Seiji retreated through the door with its sign—Please come in—and into the entrance hall. He’d just taken a right turn when he stumbled to a stop.
Beniko was standing by the bay window in her usual scarlet and black Japanese maid uniform, gazing down at the empty goldfish bowl.
They haven’t gotten around to clearing it away yet— No, that’s definitely not why it’s still there.
Beniko’s elder twin brother, a goldfish named Shion, had lived in that bowl until last month. Now he didn’t live anywhere. During the incident in Okuhida ten days ago, he’d given his life as Shiroshi’s body double.
I’m pretty sure Shiroshi said Beniko was the one who’d named him Shion.
The name came from the aster, a small purple flower also known as memory grass. While delirious with fever, Seiji had looked up its meaning in the language of flowers on his smartphone and had learned it meant “I won’t forget you.”
He’d been at a loss for words.
Beniko must have chosen that name because she’d sensed they’d have to part someday.
Even so, Seiji had the feeling the empty bowl still held lingering emotions for her.
As he hesitated, unsure what to say, Beniko beat him to the punch. “Welcome back. Are you feeling quite well now?”
“Oh yes. Thanks. I think I’m pretty much over it.”
“I’m told that indulging in tobacco weakens the immune system. Why not take this opportunity to stop?”
“…Um, Shiroshi’s in the study like always, right?” Pretending he hadn’t heard her, Seiji was just about to hurry away, when—
“Seiji.”
He looked back just in time to see Beniko bow very low, her black hair rustling like silk.
“Huh?! Wha—? Where’s this coming from?!”
“I believe it’s thanks to you that Master Shiroshi is safe. I would like you to continue to help him.”
“Yes, but, um, I think you’d probably do a better job as his assistant—”
“No, if I am ever the most suitable one for the task, I will take your place even if I have to drug you.”
“……”
“That was a joke.”
I don’t think it was!
“Well, um, okay. If worse comes to worst, I’ll make sure Shiroshi gets back safely, even if I don’t.”
“No, while that may be expected, if possible, I would like you to return with him.”
The remark caught Seiji by surprise, and the depths of his nose stung. “…Okay. I’ll do my best.” He spoke as if wringing the words out of his chest, then bowed deeply in return. After he’d watched Beniko disappear in the direction of the kitchen, he turned toward the study again.
“I’m baaack.”
A familiar sight awaited him beyond the door. At the back of the room, drapes like stage curtains framed a row of floor-length windows. To the right, a bookshelf took up the entire wall. And—