Volume 4 - CH 5.4

“Who are you?”

Clack.

The mask’s mouth shut. He bowed his head gently. His face was fused with the mask.

The face of the beast could never be removed.

“I am a narrator, and this is his story,” the child said. His voice grew higher, like a beast howling. “Life is but a story, and a person’s desires are nothing but one part of it. One cannot live their life without believing that. Life without joy is the same as being dead.”

There was anger in the child’s voice. He spread his arms wide and proud. Abruptly his fingertips melted, and his body crumbled like goo.

“Life is about enjoying yourself while acting out each and every scene.”

Click.

I heard a familiar sound for the last time.

The nostalgic ringing of a bell.

Dong.

Come one, come all. Take a gander!

The young lady over there. Ah, you too, sir. Ma’am.

You don’t want to miss it. If you watch, you will have a story to share for generations to come.

Gather around, ladies and gentlemen, and pay close attention. What you are about to see is a story most bizarre, inane, and filled with desire.

This is a story about a fox.

Dong, dong, dong.

Dong.

The fox-masked child’s body dissolved into a pool of red. Once again, the world returned to crimson. I was back inside a womb. But there was something different this time. What was a boundless space before now had a definite end. Red walls created what seemed like a secret room.

In the center of it, a blue parasol was blooming.

A pale child stirred at his feet.

We looked at each other.

Mayuzumi Asato smiled.

The first to move was the white child. Her bloody toes dug into the ground, and she leapt. At the same time, Uka jumped out of my hands and lunged straight at the white child without hesitation. The two rolled around on the ground like kittens.

But they weren’t playing. No—they were out to kill the other.

Small hands moved to gouge each other’s flesh. Uka frantically dodged the hands extending toward her, while the white child chased after her.

We stood in silence as the two kids scurried around like beasts. Soft ripples expanded at our feet. Asato cast a bored gaze at the red space.

His eyes betrayed weariness.

“I guess you saw something silly,” he muttered, looking at me.

Staring into the eyes of the beast, I asked, “What was that?”

“The spirit world sometimes changes form in response to what it swallows. It reflects the memories and subconscious desires of the person. It seems to have taken a really obvious form this time. Isn’t that right?”

His words suggested he saw something about me. But I didn’t ask him what it was. Nor did I want to know. There was no point in knowing.

I gripped the object I had hidden behind me.

“Hey, Odagiri. Don’t you even pity me?” Asato asked in a sad tone.

My heart raced momentarily. Asato held out his palm to the sky as though checking for rain.

“My mother forced her wishes on me,” he said absently. “That’s why I don’t have any wishes of my own.”

He sounded like he was having small talk, a note of sorrow in his voice. I felt a strange thirst. A sense of danger made my heart beat faster.

I must not listen to him.

“Everyone forced their wishes upon me. If I said that I hated that, so I crushed their hopes under my foot, would you still criticize me?”

The fox regarded me quietly. The narrator’s words came back to me.

“This is the story of a fox.”

“What is wrong with not fulfilling wishes that cannot be fulfilled?”

I recalled the words Asato said just now. The spirit world reflected the memories and subconscious desires of people. Why did the fox-masked narrator tell me the fox’s story?

Who was the narrator?

Was he not a part of Asato? Was it not an observer inside of him that eventually became a separate entity?

Why did he constantly refer to himself as a narrator?

Was it not because he wanted to share his memories with someone else?

Was it not because he wanted someone to know?

I should have left this place as soon as possible. I should not listen to the fox’s voice. I knew that, but I couldn’t move.

In his memories, he was just a kid.

The child of the monster became a monster.

Who could blame him for that?

“Have you ever thought about it, Odagiri?”

The emotional needle, which I thought I had rid myself of, was returning. I took several small breaths. I screamed in my head.

No, stop! Not another word!

If I lost my temper, I wouldn’t even be able to stand anymore.

“What if I told you that we were alike? That life was rough for me too?”

He raised his hand.

Thwap.

The blue parasol closed. It moved, smoothly.

A sharp pain shot through my stomach. The fox was in front of me, wearing the same sad smile.

The pain made me look down. Blood was trickling down the blue parasol.

A parasol was thrust into the hole in my stomach.

I raised my head, cautiously. Wearing the same smile, the fox nodded.

“Just kidding,” he said.

The tip was touching my internal organs. He twisted it around before pulling the parasol out. Groaning in pain, I fell to my knees and hit the red ground. A large ripple formed. Shrill laughter erupted as I desperately gasped for air.

The fox was laughing maniacally.

“I lied about my mother ruining my life.”

The parasol spun. Blue swirled.

“I lied about living a rough life as a mere imitation.”

Round and round, the vivid color traced a circle.

“I lied about an ambitionless life being empty.”

The fox chuckled. Covering his face with his palm, he looked at me through the gaps between his fingers. His animalistic eyes glinted.

“Life is about enjoying yourself while acting out each and every scene. Other people are just pawns for me to use. Yet not only did you go against the script, you also dragged me deep into the spirit world. Are you mocking me? You’re such a piece of trash, you know that?”

The fox stepped on the fingers of my left hand. Bones creaked under his leather shoes. My eyes widened as I pulled my right hand away.

He put his weight on my hand, bending my fingers slowly.

“S-Stop…”

“Your hypocrisy is appalling,” he said. “I saw it earlier. You’re under this self-serving delusion that Shizuka forgave you. She vanished with a smile? Her loneliness was alleviated? Ridiculous. The dead cannot possibly forgive. You’re harboring a mistaken belief, licking your wounds while you talk about the importance of life. You know something?”

My bones creaked louder. I grit my teeth.

I will not scream.

The fox crushed my fingers.

“I hated that part of you.”

Crack.

“Ugh.”

I stifled a scream. Sensing something wrong, Uka sprinted toward me. She opened her mouth like a tiger and pounced on the fox’s leg, but a step backward was all it took to dodge her attack. The white child clung to Uka’s back as she crashed to the ground with a shriek, sending them both rolling around.

Thanks to Uka, however, my hand was freed.

Drooling, I rolled away to keep my distance, then stood up, covering my left hand. My stomach was throbbing from immense pain. Blood soaked my shirt, and something warm trickled down my legs.

The fox opened his parasol, stained with my own blood.

Like Mayuzumi Azaka, he rested it on his neck.

“One more thing, Odagiri. Have you noticed? Your desire to save someone was just imprinted on you. Ever since you conceived a demon, you’ve been trying so hard not to sympathize with others. You’ve suppressed your heart so that you don’t get emotionally involved with anyone. But acknowledging Uka removed that restraint. And then, you got involved in the Minase clan case, where you succeeded in saving the clan chief. That must have been a delightful experience for you after so long.”

Helping others is noble in everyone’s eyes.

For those who have been in the darkest pits of despair, the experience serves as a cane to help themselves up.

A plain and simple way to affirm their existence.

“You just want more of that feeling,” the fox concluded.

Once people taste pleasure, they try to have some more.

My desire to save people was just that—a way for me to experience that pleasure once more.

The fox smiled. A smile much like Mayuzumi Azaka’s.

The smile of a beast tormenting its prey.

I bit my lip hard. I could taste blood in my mouth. But I bit harder nevertheless.

I spat out a piece of flesh along with saliva.

Hanging on to the pain, I said, “Shut it.”

The fox looked surprised. Then, he arched an eyebrow in displeasure.

I glared at him.

I already know that.