Call Girl (1)
“Thank you.”
“See you on the way back, mister.”
The bus pulls into the stop. Arisu and Yutaro say their goodbyes to the driver. I'm the last one off when the driver mutters with his head bowed.
“Can't get out. Everything's empty, empty, empty in the void...”
I sense faint traces of a curse on the driver. What was the trigger? Whatever it was...
I can handle something this minor on my own.
Should I take the driver's curse for him? Nah. I crack a wry smile. It reminds me of my mom, who used to play scapegoat for pocket change.
Koyomi, people like us have power. We have to help the weak.
She was a fool who only passed down this annoying constitution to me. Died lonely, riddled with all sorts of nasty spells and curses. Didn't I swear on my way down from Tokyo that I wouldn't live like her?
Someday, good days will come.
I wish the driver ill luck and step off. Right now, my focus is on that one-piece girl playing with butterflies.
But at the actual bus stop, there's no sign of her. A hallucination? As I'm doubting myself—
“There was definitely a super cute girl here. Where'd she go?”
Yutaro smacks his lips. So he saw the one-piece girl too.
“Was there a girl like that at the stop?”
Arisu asks Yutaro with a total blank look.
“Yeah, my golden balls were throbbing, you idiot.”
Like I noticed on the train, the guy's a total DQN who loves women. Arisu bristles at his sleazy words.
“That's vulgar, Buntaro.”
“What? Arisu, you into girls or something? Lesbian? Figures, you look the type.”
“I'm not a lesbian! I'm definitely straight. Koyoming-senpai, say something!”
“Ko-Koyoming... This is just dumb locker room talk, ignore it?”
Listening to their bickering gives me a headache. No time to savor the afterglow. I'm about to tell them to shut up when—
Clack. Clack.
I hear geta clogs. A man approaches the stop.
“You've had a long journey. A lady and two gentlemen from Tokyo, I presume? I'm Hoozure Ichimatsu, the welcoming committee. Son of the village chief.”
He's a young man in his early to mid-twenties, wearing hakama. Hoozure Ichimatsu has a polite but somehow suspicious voice.
The village chief's son coming out himself? Unexpected.
Custom-bound villages usually give outsiders the cold shoulder. But the chief's family showing up doesn't mean a warm welcome. Ichimatsu hides his face behind a bird-motif noh mask.
Ichimatsu takes the lead.
“I know covering my face isn't polite by outsider standards. But in the village, men wear masks after their genpuku ceremony. I hope you'll understand.”
Older men wear masks. Is that an Utsuromura custom?
“Fujimoto Yutaro of the Inoegumi.”
“Yessir!”
Yutaro grins ear to ear. He'll need to negotiate with the chief for his hot springs development, so he's thrilled to meet the bloodline early.
“Buntaro, you're yakuza? Scary.”
“Just a normal company, kid. You trying to mess with my deal?”
Yutaro snaps at Arisu's innocent question.
“Nippon Mood journalist, Mikanangi Koyomi.”
“Mikanangi here.”
Nippon Mood is a culture mag from the same publisher as my job. Glad they don't use embarrassing names like Occult Kirara.
“My apologies. I couldn't quite catch how to read your companion's family name.”
Ichimatsu apologizes to Arisu. Yeah, even I was stumped. Arisu grins sheepishly.
“Just call me Arisu.”
“Then, Mikanangi, Arisu, Fujimoto—before entering Utsuromura Village, please answer: Do any of you have ancestors from Utsuromura going back seven generations?”
I scowl.
“Do I have to answer?”
No ancestors from here in seven generations, but I snap a bit irritably anyway.
“Calm down, Koyoming-senpai!”
“Just procedure.”
Ichimatsu says stiffly.
“No, all my ancestors are from one village.”
“I'm a Tokyo native too!”
“Dunno. My parents came from Okinawa, so probably not.”
All three of us naturally have no blood ties.
“Understood. You'll be staying at the abandoned church used by the bateren. We've had servants clean it thoroughly, despite the name. The Hoozure family will provide food, water, and essentials.”
“For real? Jackpot.”
“Koyoming-senpai, we saved on lodging. Overly generous. Cheap inns were the norm for past investigations. For a custom village, what's the catch behind this thick hospitality?”
“It's a bit of a walk to the village. We cross a tunnel. It's dark—I'll lead with the lantern, so follow closely.”
Ichimatsu strides ahead. Sure enough, there's a tunnel.
※Caution. Japanese Constitution Does Not Apply From Here On.
The sign reads an ominous phrase.
“What nonsense. Japanese constitution not applying in Japan? Village bravado?”
“Maybe locals put it up secretly to harass the village? Some buraku villages had similar issues.”
Arisu and Yutaro whisper about the chief. For a typical closed village, one of those guesses fits. But I think differently.
What if something in the village can't even be handled by law?
Ichimatsu breaks the silence once inside the tunnel. His voice echoes off the walls, tap-tap-tap.
“The three of you—some cautions for living here.”
Utsuromura Village Ordinances. More complex customs than other tradition-bound villages. They sound reasonable at first but feel ominous.
“Please follow the ordinances closely.”
“One question.”
I call out to the village chief's son, only seeing his back.
“Yes, Mikanangi?”
“Saw a girl at the stop earlier. Who was she?”
The clack-clack of geta stops.
“I omitted one ordinance.”
Tweeeng— A music box winds up. Ichimatsu's mask rotates on its own—stopping at the back of his head. The glaring eyes on the mask seem to threaten us.
“Do not connect with Tsukikumu Yume, bride-to-be of the gods.”
1) Kintama – Slang for testicles.
2) Shimoneeta – Crude jokes about toilets or sex.
3) Geta – Wooden clogs that clack when walked in.
4) Hakama – Loose-legged traditional Japanese pants.
5) Noh mask – Mask used in traditional Japanese theater.
6) Genpuku – Coming-of-age ceremony, usually at age 16.
7) Gumi – Group/organization; with “gumi,” implies yakuza front company.
8) Bateren – Term for Western Christian missionaries.
9) Burakumin – Japan's historically discriminated underclass.
That night.
“Got a bit closer to the Utsuromura villagers, huh.”
I recount today's exploits to the maggot larva. Kaguya-chan wiggles her butt. She reacts like she's really enjoying it. As if a bug understands human speech. Still, here I am.
Kaguya stretches straaain, antsy.
“You wanna go outside too, Kaguya-chan?”
Just in case, I ask. The larva nods. Cute, but no!
“You're still too young. Eat up, grow big, and I'll take you out. Sleepy time.”
I blow a kiss to the sulking Kaguya and close the bamboo tube.
Lots happened today, but biggest harvest: learning my mom was a total babe. Kinda jealous... That bastard who NTR'd my mom. Who's my dad anyway?
In a visual novel, [Silent Story] would gloss it as overseas transfer. But this ain't a game I've played. Yuuki's knowledge didn't flow into my head or anything.
Oh yeah, Yuuki had a phone.
Rural healing vibes clash with smartphones. No charger for the crappy flip phone anyway. Reika said it's out of range, so I ignored it.
I open Yuuki's phone.
Almost no records.
No gallery, texts, or calls. Spotless. This guy—with that face—no girls texting him? I'd be bombing them nonstop.
Only one text remains: the one I sent myself.
What the~. Useless guy. As I go to close the flip phone, it vibrates with a ring.
Nina nina nina gorilla~ ♬ Beethoven's Für Elise.
What? Signal catches here sometimes?
Makes sense—happens in Korean countryside too. I answer.
“Hello?”