Seiji was lost again.
How many times did this make? He’d gone down street after street and turned several corners, but it didn’t seem to matter how far he walked. He never saw anyone else, and all the houses he passed were silent.
Twilight was sometimes called the “hour of demons.” The “hour of disasters.” Under the madder-red sky, the whole world looked like shadow theater in red and black.
He’d been living at the house for two months now but still didn’t know how to get back there. That said, once he got lost like this, he felt sure he’d stumble onto it again.
Even after he’d learned that Shiroshi was actually the boss of the demons—or rather, their boss’s son and heir—his days had been peaceful. Humans are inherently self-interested creatures, so although Seiji had spent a while shivering with the covers pulled over his head, when he got to the breakfast table the next morning, he felt as if it might all have been a bad dream. And—the final nail in the coffin—when pastries were served at three o’clock tea, his instinctive fear didn’t stand a chance in a battle against appetite.
The mansion was a strangely comfortable place to live. Was this how frogs felt when they were gradually being boiled to death?
Still—
The thought that that comfort was contingent on his usefulness as an assistant sent a tiny chill down his spine.
Shiroshi had basically solved the previous incident on his own. Seiji hadn’t been much more than a big, awkward accessory, had he?
If he starts thinking I’m even less useful than that…
Seiji shivered at the idea that crossed his mind.
No, he wasn’t going to think about that right now.
Fortunately, no guests had visited the house since that first time, which meant his “assistant” title had gone largely forgotten. He was a freeloader—or actually, maybe more like a pet. Although Shiroshi looked close to a decade younger than Seiji, he seemed to consider Seiji as being about as smart as the average dog or cat and was constantly taking care of him in a myriad of ways.
Seiji was an adult, even if he wasn’t very good at it, and he would have loved to protest this treatment. However, when the boy said things to him like, “Could you run to the supermarket on an errand? Feel free to keep the change as pocket money,” the way he had today, ready agreement was the only sane response.
And so, the days passed without incident.
“I’m baaack.”
When he finally made it to the house, the enormous sacred anise tree had put out clusters of small buds. Still tightly closed, they seemed to be shivering in the chilly wind, waiting impatiently for spring.
“Shiroooshi, I bought what you… Huh?”
Opening the study door, he let out a noise of surprise. Shiroshi was seated at the table as usual, but someone he’d never seen before was sitting across from him.
“Welcome home. We have a guest.”
“Um, you mean…?” Seiji asked timidly, taking a seat.
“Yes, most likely number twenty-four,” Shiroshi said absently, taking the shopping bag from him. “One, two, three…” He counted the apples sitting inside the bag. “Yes, perfect. It must have been heavy; you did very well.” He patted Seiji on the head in a “good boy” sort of way. Maybe he had mistaken the errand for a game of fetch.
“Excuse me, who is this?”
“Seiji Tohno. Think of him as something like my assistant.”
He’d been casually demoted to something like Shiroshi’s assistant.
“My name is Rinko Shidou. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the guest greeted him. She looked the picture of a sheltered young lady from a good family.
The woman appeared to be about Seiji’s age. Her black kimono was made of expensive tsumugi silk decorated with a vine motif, and she wore it well. Her carefully combed black hair hung to her waist. She had the beauty of a traditional Kyoto doll, but there was a cold edge to the gaze she’d turned on Seiji. How should he put it…? A look reserved for lower life-forms?
“Ms. Shidou was just telling me that Kaori Iogi told her to come here.”
“Um, who’s that?” Seiji asked in a whisper.
Shiroshi lowered his voice likewise. “Someone connected to a previous case. She was the one who gave us this house.”
“What?!”
“On the surface, she gave it as a gesture of gratitude, but it was hush money, plain and simple. The wealthier the family, the stronger their desire to cover up their relatives’ disgrace.”
Seiji couldn’t believe it. Had they been living on hush money this whole time? He couldn’t help but shudder.
Ignoring him, Shiroshi turned back to Rinko with a smile. “Then I take it you’re also a student at St. Catherine’s Academy for Girls.”
“Yes, I’m in my third year at the university there. We’re on spring break at the moment, so I came back home for a little while.”
“University breaks do tend to be quite long, don’t they?”
St. Catherine’s Academy for Girls was a rarity these days: a school for the daughters of distinguished families. It had to be pretty famous if Seiji knew about it… Even if he’d only heard about it from a certain online bulletin board.
Incredibly, this young lady of impeccable standing wanted them to slay a monster.
“I would like you to rid us of a nue.”
…Huh? A what?
“There is a Noh play about it, if you are familiar. The one by Zeami…”
“Ahhh… Noh’s the one where they wear those funny masks, right?”
“Seiji.”
Feeling as if he’d been ordered back to his kennel, Seiji snapped his mouth shut. Dumb dogs shouldn’t bark.
“The nue is a monstrous bird that appears in The Tale of the Heike. It is also famous for having been shot down by Minamoto no Yorimasa, which Zeami took as the subject of his play, Nue.”
“Indeed. My family appears to have been cursed by one.”
“Could you go into detail on that?”
Nodding, Rinko obliged. “It began four years ago…”
Her father, Kazeaki, had been the head of the Shidou family, and her brother Akihito, his right-hand man at the age of just twenty-four. That year, they had been involved in a collision on the expressway.
Her father had been riding in the back seat and died on impact. Her brother, the driver, had been seriously injured; the body of the car had crushed his entire left side. For a while they feared he might not survive, but he’d made a miraculous recovery. While he’d lost much of his hearing and still had some paralysis in his extremities, he could navigate ordinary situations without trouble.
However…
“The accident changed my brother into someone else entirely.”
Formerly a mild man, he’d become violent. Sudden attacks of rage robbed him of his control and sent him on rampages so wild that the people around him feared him, calling him a crazed beast.
“I see. Executive dysfunction following the accident?”
“Yes, that was the doctor’s diagnosis as well.”
They’d lost Seiji. Noticing his puzzled look, Shiroshi whispered in his ear: “It’s a kind of aftereffect from a brain injury. The patient may appear to have recovered, but damage to the brain has left them unable to curb their violent impulses and emotions.”
“Th-that’s really rough.”