Mama Katsu Bunny Girl (2): Ding Dong Dang Dong

Ding dong, dang dong. A bell rang across the colorful hills. It was a low-quality electronic tone that sounded like it came from a cheap speaker.

"Dear adult guests who have come to our Daon Kids Cafe!"

"Are you having a wonderful time?"

As expected, the broadcast itself felt cheap and poorly made. The tone was the kind you'd hear at an amusement park or on a children's program, and even that sounded like it was twenty years out of style. Most of all, the speaker's voice was grating.

It was too artificial to belong to a human, and the pitch kept shifting in strange ways. Throughout the entire announcement, someone kept snickering and making noise like static. No matter how you listened, it was an unpleasant, mocking laugh.

Of course, the message itself wasn't exactly cheerful either.

"Unfortunately, the time has come for us to part ways!"

"Since it's the last time, I hope you can enjoy yourselves even more……"

"The number of taggers has dwindled so much that the tension has dropped, hasn't it?"

The fact that it was complaining about the lack of tension told me this kids cafe had already reached its limit. It was a roundabout way of saying it was ready to throw away all pretense. After all, the staff it had deployed were nearly wiped out. Even anomalies couldn't wield their power freely without limits.

There were differences in strength between individuals, and they were all bound by some kind of restriction. The kids cafe had suffered massive losses, so it had to catch me and that internal anomaly to break even. As I've said before, ghost stories are phenomena built upon rules. And every ghost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠story is born from breaking one extremely important rule.

"Physical laws are just another kind of rule, aren't they?"

People fear ghost stories because common sense and reality are destroyed. Monsters that shouldn't exist. Objects that work completely differently from what we know. Ghosts that attack in ways no one can help you against, like dreams or hallucinations.

They can exist as mysteries precisely because they defy physical laws. In other words, breaking physical laws is the first condition that defines an anomaly.

The binding force of physical laws on anomalies is stronger than you can imagine. That's why they have to pile on so many other rules just to break this one. That's also why anomalies attach themselves to objects or concepts like supermarkets or videos.

"So, ta-da~! We've specially invited a new guest just for today."

"It's none other than the abundant, great, massive, greedy, and generous Store Manager of Daon Mart!"

"From now on, the Store ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Manager will personally take on the role of tagger!"

"You'll even get the chance to become one with the abundant Store Manager!"

"Now, everyone, let's welcome the Store Manager with a round of applause!"

In other words, this was pushing it even for an anomaly. The master of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Daon Mart ghost story had forced its way into the subordinate kids cafe anomaly. It seemed to be trying to maintain the framework of tag, but if this had been a good idea, it wouldn't have waited until now.

What connection could there possibly be between a supermarket manager and a kids cafe? The kids cafe anomaly's identity was already badly damaged. If it couldn't recover its strength and restore its rules in time, it would collapse. Unable to overcome physical laws, it would be completely erased.

'That means I'm not the one in a hurry anymore.'

It was a kind of time attack. If they caught me within the time limit, the kids cafe won. If I survived until the end, I won.

A massive form burst out from the kids cafe entrance. It was so enormous that I couldn't take in its full shape at a glance. Along with the mass of flesh came hundreds of heads. Though covered by thin skin, most of them were clearly human. Some were even letting out gloomy, muffled groans as if they were still alive.

"Ugh, uuuuaaah……"

I hadn't planned on fighting from the start. My body wasn't in good condition. Even I would have to risk death in a prolonged fight against the Store Manager. An indescribable instinct urged me to flee. But they say crisis and opportunity are separated by a single sheet of paper. Thanks to this creature, an opportunity had appeared.

"Baby■ ■■ can't■ ■go■……"

"Sorry, but I'm leaving that thing to you!"

The Store Manager's insane scale had drawn the internal anomaly's attention. There was no reason to waste this perfect chance. We weren't exactly comrades, and stabbing someone in the back was humanity's specialty! I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠threw myself into the side path the internal anomaly had been blocking.

"■all■ can't■ ■■ ■come■……"

Until now, it had been so desperate to attack me. For some reason, it didn't follow.

* * *

I used to be a firefighter. More precisely, a 119 rescue team member. I was the kind of person civilians first thought of when they heard the word "firefighter." We were always short on manpower at the scene. On top of our already busy workload, ghost stories and anomalies kept mixing in and making everything worse. So I saw and experienced all kinds of horrors almost every single day.

At the scenes I was dispatched to, the victims were usually in bad shape. If they could even speak, that was lucky. Most of the time they were exhausted or unconscious.

Assessing a victim's condition was always the rescue team's responsibility. There weren't many clues. Just the fragmented details from the initial report at the center, the symptoms visible on the victim, and the scattered objects around them. Even so, I had to do it. If I couldn't, someone would die.

I identified chronic illnesses from medicine names on shelves. I figured out what they had been trying to do in their final moments from the direction of their fallen body and posture.

All while checking their symptoms and performing emergency treatment without a moment's delay. Thanks to that, I had a pretty good eye for observing my surroundings. I was also fairly confident in my ability to infer situations from traces.

'This is……'

At the end of the side path stood a small cabin. Along the path I'd come from lay the corpse of the rabbit-masked anomaly. And right in front of the cabin, the wolf-masked anomaly had been torn to shreds. A long trail of blood connected to the body. Black mucus scattered like mushrooms after rain. Frantic footprints and pools of blood.

It was obvious. The internal anomaly had killed the wolf mask and then chased down and killed the rabbit mask as well. The traces were so clear there was no need to investigate deeply.

I stood before a small storage cabinet inside the cabin. Knock, knock. I knocked a couple of times first so the child wouldn't be startled.

"Are you in there? You don't have to be scared."

No answer came. Instead of urging the child, I looked around again. Thick dust had settled throughout the cabin. Handprints were scattered everywhere, as if something had disturbed the dust. There were traces of something being dragged. The place where "someone" had been dragged matched the location of the anomalies' corpses from earlier.

I thought I finally understood what—or rather, who—the thing I'd been calling the "internal anomaly" had originally been.

"Hello? My name is Lee Hasol. Your mom couldn't come, so I came to get you instead."

"……"

"You're keeping the promise you made with your mom, aren't you? Good boy. Even though you were scared, you held it in and stayed quiet. You did well. Really well."

"Did Mom really send you?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering. Usually in these situations, you had to lie if it meant rescuing the child. But was agreeing to this really a lie? In the end, "she" hadn't stopped me. She had allowed me to save this child.

"Yeah. So, want to come out slowly? You must have been really cramped in there."

"I'll come out……"

The one hiding inside was a boy who looked about five or six years old. I'd deliberately stood in the way so he wouldn't see the bloodstains or corpses around us. Unfortunately, my consideration had been in vain.

"Careful. Don't trip."

"Thank you."

The child had been born blind. No matter how gruesome the surroundings had become, there was nothing here that could shock him visually.

"Where's Mom?"

"Later. Can I explain later? It's still dangerous out here."

"Okay……"

A corner of my chest felt strangely heavy. Something seemed to be bubbling up inside. 'What must she have been feeling?'

It must have been an outing meant to make her precious child smile. When that outing turned into a disaster and the cafe became a hell filled with killers, when she realized she couldn't protect him with her own strength and hid her child in this narrow box, when she left her blind son alone and went to meet her death—what emotions had the child's mother felt? What kind of terrible anguish had made her shed tears of blood even after death?

Unable to even imagine it, I gently embraced the frightened child.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay now. Let's get out of here."

* * *

When the mother of the island house baby goes to gather oysters in the island's shade, the baby is left alone to watch the house and falls asleep, arm as pillow, to the sea's lullaby.

The baby sleeps soundly, but the seagull's cry makes the mother's heart flutter, and with her basket not yet full of oysters on her head, she runs along the sandy path.