Mob Yandere

Chapter 217

"Are you still longing for them?"

The question cut through the washed-out world around him—a world drained to shades of black and white. His gaze, which had been lingering wistfully over his shoulder, returned to the one who had spoken.

Across from him sat a beautiful figure on a tree stump, using it like a throne. Their appearance was on a level far beyond anything he could compare himself to—refined, composed, almost unreal. Two eyes, mismatched in color—one warm as molten gold, the other cold as a frozen lake—fixed on him with a quiet, penetrating curiosity. It felt as if those eyes held his life in their hands, weighing it, judging it.

"...No. I'm fine," he said. The denial came too quickly, his voice faltering before he forced himself to continue. "Those people... they weren't my family."

The words spilled out like something bitter he needed to cough up. He said them to cut away the past, to purge the lingering ghosts, to convince himself that he'd made the right choice. If he repeated it enough, maybe his mind would finally fall in line.

Yes. This was for the best. It was supposed to be the option that left everyone happier. No lies, no delusions—just the truth. He had fulfilled his obligations, repaid every debt, and walked away. No one could fault him. There was no reason for guilt.

He should have been able to sever it cleanly.

"That place... was never meant for me."

He wasn't someone who deserved a seat at their table. He wasn't someone who had the right to share their meals, to call them family, to mimic their smiles as if he belonged there. His very presence had felt wrong—like a blemish staining something pure. Every breath taken in that house had felt like slow suffocation.

He had been terrified of what hid behind their eyes when they looked at him. Terrified that all they truly saw was a burden they could not speak of.So yes—leaving had been escape. It had been liberation. At last, he no longer had to flinch at the word "family." He had carried his weight, paid his dues, and left with nothing owed.

No regrets. No guilt.

"...Even so, wasn't it also a place you wanted to stay?"

He had no answer.

A cruel question—deliberate, precise, aimed at the tenderest part of the wound. Just when he had finished cutting the thread, they pressed the loose ends together, as if to tie them again.

He knew the truth, though. He could admit it now, at least to himself.

He had wanted to remain in that circle.

But more than that—he had feared it. All he wanted was a place where he could belong. To stay. To remain forever. A small wish, and yet fate had been far too cruel to allow it.

For a fleeting moment, he had believed he'd finally found a family—not one of convenience, but one of warmth. A family with living hearts, not hollow gestures.

But it had all been an illusion.

"...If it hurts to say goodbye, then you're lucky," the figure said softly, as if reading the sorrow twisting inside him. The voice held comfort, irony, and a hint of pity, all in equal measure.

"Lucky...?"

"If there's something to miss, it means there was something worth having," they continued. "True misfortune is when there's nothing to grieve. No bond, no thread, not even a fragile vine to cut. If your heart aches, it means it mattered. That it was real—at least to you."

He didn't argue, didn't agree. Silence settled between them. Dodging again—always dodging. Pretending he was composed, when he was only afraid.

"...It almost sounds like you're saying that's who I am," he muttered.

It was sharp, defensive—a jab meant to deflect the pressure, born from embarrassment more than anger. And the moment he said it, he regretted the rudeness. He looked away, uncomfortable.

A soft chuckle slipped out.

"Fair. I struck a sore spot. Or perhaps I should praise your courage instead? You don't seem like the type to take a blow quietly."

The figure's laughter made the shame burn hotter. He felt childish. Petty.

"My apologies..." he mumbled.

"It's fine," they said lightly. "Better that than someone who bottles everything up behind a clever mask. That kind of person is exhausting to deal with. A little softness around the edges makes you easier to trust. And honestly? It's nice to see you act your age once in a while."

Was that a compliment or an insult? He couldn't tell. He shot them a wary look, which only earned another amused laugh. He had no idea how to handle them—and that only made it worse.

"Assistant! There you are!"

The sudden shout shattered the moment. Heavy footsteps thudded down the path, and a towering man approached—broad, richly dressed, and built like a fortress. His layered silks strained around his bulk, his breath hot and loud as he looked down at them with a puzzled glare.

"We've received a report from the scouts. A group of youkai is heading this way from the west."

"The same ones who attacked that merchant caravan, I assume," said the young man beside him. — Only now did the mismatched-eyed beauty stand revealed as a young man. "Good thing we chose this road."

"Idiots," the large man growled. "Drawn by our scent, no doubt. Weaklings with no sense of their place."

"Or perhaps they're confident?"

"Confident or not, my men won't be coming back in pieces," the large man snapped.

It was the kind of discussion that would send ordinary travelers running for their lives. Merchants would faint, nobles would order an immediate retreat, even trained warriors might blanch at the mention of youkai. But these two spoke of monsters the way others spoke of the weather—not out of ignorance, but because this was their job.

"...!"

"You should stay in the carriage," the young man said quietly. "It's safer."

He must have noticed how pale the boy had turned. The towering man snorted at the sight.

"No need to worry. I'll squash them quickly enough."

"You, Head Officer? If that's the case, perhaps I should—"

"Stand down, boy." The man raised a hand. "Don't go showing off over something so trivial. Especially not when the report came through me. Let me handle it."

"...Thank you, sir."

The young man bowed—deep, respectful, perfectly measured, neither arrogant nor servile.

"Hmph. Clever lad. And don't fret—it's just a bit of exercise after lunch. The healer says I need to move more... You there, boy."

"Huh? Wh—who—?!"

He hadn't expected to be addressed. A small pouch was tossed at him, and he caught it awkwardly. Something inside rattled with a gritty clink.

"What is this...?"

"Sweets. The healer scolded me for eating them, so you can have them."

A reluctant gift, thrown more like a burden. He glanced at the young man, who nodded for him to open it. Inside was a burst of color.

"...Konpeitō?"

"You know it? Hmph. Disappointing."

Sugar candy like that was a luxury that children in the northern wastes might live their whole lives without seeing. The Head Officer had clearly hoped for a more dramatic reaction, and now looked bored.

"You're cruel, Head Officer. Feeding a stray now, are we?"

"I still don't know what possessed you to buy such a ragged brat," the man grunted. "And that dead-eyed stare is irritating. Like a fox wearing a child's skin."

"If it were a fox, it would be cuter."

"Grr... can't argue with that."

He shrugged and turned to leave—off to hunt monsters.

"Um—wait! I mean—!"

The man paused, brows lifting.

"Th-thank you... sir."

"It's not worth thanking me for."

He snorted again and walked off. The boy bowed until the man's broad back disappeared from sight.

Whatever kind of man he was, this would not be the last time their paths crossed. Whatever his motives, the gesture deserved thanks.

A cold wind swept through, making him shiver.

"The Head Officer's sweets are too sweet," the young man said gently, rubbing the boy's back. "We'll need tea to balance it."

When he looked up, the young man was smiling.

"Autumn in the north is short. This cold is already too much. Why don't we indulge a little? Warm tea, sweets, and a lazy break inside the carriage."

"Are you treating me like a child?"

A warm hand rested on his head—firm enough to remind him of the difference in their heights, yet gentle enough to comfort. "Aren't you a child? Once we return to the estate, we'll have proper clothes made for you. Those rags are hardly suitable for someone your age."

He scowled, sulking like a stubborn adult—but arguing was useless. Their positions were different. Fighting it served no purpose. Still, beneath the pride and the mask, something fragile trembled.

"...Is it... all right if I stay a child?" he whispered, voice thin and tremoring, nearly lost to the wind.

The young man didn't answer right away. He only stroked his head again—as if the touch alone could say what words could not.

* * *

"Within a circle of four ri." (1 ri = 3.927 km / 2.44 miles)

Nue's voice stirred the cup in his hand, making the water tremble. The sound moved oddly in the quiet room.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, frowning.

The ghost smiled, a thin, curious curl of a smile. "My proposal. From the place where you hide - from that little haven you call a dream - we'll mark a circle with a three-ri radius. Make it a district where people can live like people again."

He spoke of the center lands of Fusō - rich soil that seemed to give ten times what the borderlands did. Cut a small circle from that abundance: three ri radius, six ri across. In a map of the whole country, it was a speck. In that speck, though, lay wealth enough for one person to live as he pleased, and for thousands to be fed. More than enough for private life, less than a kingdom.

"Of course," Nue went on, "we won't block the spiritual veins or the water from outside. This is full autonomy. Self-rule. The right to survive, to stand on your own. I'll put that promise in writing. All yours. A gift."

I couldn't believe it. Part of me recognized the sound - a shape I'd seen in other stories, a lure from a tale called Firefly of the Dark Night. In those stories, powerful youkai set tempting bargains for weary heroes. They promised narrow safety in return for a single small thing. The echo of that story hit me like a cold hand.

"This isn't half the world," I said. "It's almost stingy."

"It is plenty for one person to prosper," someone scoffed. "If you take on more than that, you'll be crushed. With that land and its people and wealth, you could fill your wants and stop."

I spat out a word of disgust. The offer felt petty and low. It smelled of easy comfort, of a soft prison.

Nue's plan was ordinary and mean in its way, and yet it wanted to tempt everything noble in a broken heart. Faced with ruin and not enough strength to fight, who could refuse a sheltered corner sealed by promise? The choice the story always posed came back: take the narrow safety, or risk everything for something larger and uncertain.

"Two conditions," Nue said plainly. "Tell us everything you know. And stop interfering with us. Keep to those terms, and I will give you peace, safety, freedom, happiness. If you wish, I'll give you people and things from before the sorting."

I laughed once, sharp. "You make me sound important. There are better folk to pick."

He shrugged. "I won't deny being idle. There's little I can do now. I am starved even for a conversation. Then you appeared."

The ghost watched me as if I were a page in a book he could not stop reading. His interest was almost tender.

"Do you mean 'she' - your leader?" I asked.

The name pulled a memory like a snagged thread. In that wild night of indulgence, one presence had leaned toward me and whispered. I later searched through the yashiki and its people and could not find anyone who matched that same feeling. The memory had been taken from me then, I realized. "Yes. It seems she spoke of you at a meeting in her dream."

"She took in the earth-mother's power raw and hid it beneath a human face," Nue said. "She helps from around her. Still, seeing you... it's hard to believe."

"So you haven't taken everything," I said. "Wouldn't it be quicker to catch me and split my skull open?"

"That won't do," he said. "There is a fragment of that god inside you. We must not anger it. She touched it and drew its ire. She complained about the pain."

Nue seemed troubled by another thing, too - by my stubborn clinging to some people, people he called frightening. He smiled helplessly, like a man puzzled at his own feelings.

"You won't dismiss this as my delusion?" I said.

"Impossible," he answered. He was sure the events aligned like a story being written as we lived it. Still, he did not deny that impression completely. He wanted me to know I was not simply inventing it.

"You have endured more than anyone should," he said softly. "This is not something you can shrug off. If you think you can fool her, you can't. The higher gods see both the body and the idea. They will not be fooled by small human tricks."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," I muttered. "I didn't ask for a sanity check."

"Consider it a kind thought," he said lightly. "Not payment for upbringing. Just-accept it."

While he spoke, he ate, his lips and the sound of chewing filling the quiet. From the garden beyond the room, a shadow that had swallowed its portion clapped its belly and seemed pleased.

"Everyone, your long-awaited meat is here!" a bright voice called. "Don't worry - we use only plain beast meat, as requested!"

"Plain?" came a dry reply.

A blue fox server appeared, balancing bottles and stacked plates. She used her tails like hands, carrying a mountain of food. The name Kumaso-goroshi - a famed strong sake from the southern lands - was announced with a flourish that made the room hold its breath for a moment.

A pause, then laughter and quick jibes. I asked if there were strange bits mixed into the food, and the ghost waved it off. "This grilled bird and miso meat are fine. Try the stewed giblets - they'll get your strength up."

"They've put the life into it."

The ghost who liked to call himself my father - skewered something with a giant chopstick and chewed as if preaching, making lewd recommendations without shame. The talk was crude and careless, but it was warm in its way. He protested when someone suggested he'd betrayed his role as a teacher, and then, with a fond smile at the memory, leaned back and nodded to himself with no malice at all.

I listened to them, to the clatter, the jokes, the undeniable odd comfort of their company. Even as the offer of a fenced-off life glowed like a candle, there was this other thing: the messy, loud, human world that would not fit into any neat circle.

Now, my thoughts churned. The choice felt older than new. The room smelled of grilled meat and sake and something like memory. I stayed there, small and stubborn, and let the moment press around me - uncertain, angry, and not ready to give up the possibility of something more.

The ghost leaned back, smiling as if this were all a pleasant review of a successful exam. "Yes. Luck played a part, of course, but seeing her overcome it in that way makes me happy. Even if I guided her a little, she chose to face it herself. She's grown in mind and body - truly worthy of an exorcist. That's something to be proud of."

"You just wanted to watch what would happen," I muttered.

He chuckled, unbothered. Maybe he really had predicted this - the increase of youkai specimens carrying the same tainted blood as me, each one born from that cursed experiment. Perhaps he'd even planted something in Botan's body, a remnant bug corpse made to breed new mutations. It would be just like him.

"Ahaha. Call it efficiency. You've made me a rich man in discoveries, my dear child," Nue said lightly.

"Say something that doesn't make me sick."

He laughed again, soft as if the insult had been praise. If he truly felt affection, he could have gone to see Botan himself. I was sure the old master there would greet him warmly - by throwing every binding spell he knew and making certain the spirit's soul burned clean away. But of course, he"d never risk stepping into that kind of kill zone.

"I"m busy, you know," he said lazily. "By the way, could you deliver a note for me later? Just a little message. My familiars might get traced if I send it myself."

"So now I'm your errand boy? Coward."

"A coward stays alive," he said simply, carving a piece of simmered pork kakuni and eating it with the calm of a saint. He had nerves like iron and no shame to speak of.

"Anyway," he continued, dabbing his lips, "enough about my pupil. Let's talk about you, my son. Blood must come before all else."

I stared, thinking what gall it took for him to say that. But I kept quiet. From the other side of the garden, the shadow of a monster was licking blood from the walls.

"You should think carefully about that offer," Nue went on. "Always plan for the worst. Weigh what you could lose against what you might protect. Maybe you can't save everything - but you can save someone."

He smiled with the calm affection of a father teaching his child. It was also the face of a devil coaxing a sinner.

"With the land they're offering you," he said, "you could feed thousands forever. You"d be their lord, their ruler. You understand what that means?"

A chill ran through me. A "gift" like that meant a binding - a contract that made me its god and master. Within those borders, life and death would hang on my word.

"Men and women alike will flatter you," he said. "They'll offer you everything - money, names, bloodlines, children - all for your favor. You could take them all in, every friend and family member you wish to protect. It's luxury made absolute."

He said it like he was describing a toy, not a trap. And he kept going, with the same unholy cheer. "Would you like a village girl, a merchant's daughter, a noble's princess, even a pretty boy? Half-youkai, foreigners - no problem. Tell us the traits you prefer, and we'll gather the best. You can choose from the list. Just don"t take too many; culling the extras is messy."

I clenched my teeth. The ones not chosen - I didn't have to ask what would happen. I could picture it. Industrialized slaughter dressed up as order.

"What a disgusting offer," I said. "You think I'd fall for something that cheap?"

"That depends," he replied mildly. "From what she told me of your little hideout, it didn't sound all that different."

The words cut deep even without malice. I forced myself to stay calm - to keep drawing him out.

"So," I said, "what if I fill that place only with exorcists? People who'd love nothing more than to burn you to ash. You'd allow that?"

"Why not? With you there, it hardly matters. You carry the seed of the earth-mother herself. You could breed power as easily as life. A few angry exorcists won't tip the balance."

I groaned. "Great. So I'm a stud horse now."

He just smiled, while my mind turned bitter. Thinking of the women from the yashiki, of the curses stitched into my blood, made me feel sick. My body wasn't a gift - it was a weapon I'd never asked for. I thought of Iruka, of Botan, of what my touch had already done.

"If that's a problem," Nue said, "ask Elder Matsuhige for help. Or those Juuyaku creations you keep close. They're good with the biological side of things."

"You even know about them?" I hissed.

That stung more than I wanted to admit. I'd hoped to keep that secret as a card to play, but of course they"d already stolen the data. Every advantage I had, they'd planned around it.

"Tell me this," I said. "If I die, does the contract end?"

It was the obvious question. Deals with monsters always came with hidden claws. Not that the imperial court or the Exorcist Clans were any better.

"Look," Nue said, pulling a small scroll from his robe while chewing grilled gizzard. "See for yourself."

I eyed it with suspicion. "No curses on it?"

"None. And no poison either, promise."

I snatched it anyway, feeling the texture - fine Fusō paper. Slowly, I unrolled it, eyes narrowing as I scanned the faint Fuumi letters.

"If you die," he said smoothly, "the rights pass to your heir - any blood descendant you name, or, failing that, the firstborn. There is no loopholes, even no self-destruction clauses. The line continues until it ends naturally. With your body, you could extend that for centuries if you wished - by shedding skin or stealing life."

"Stop calling me a monster."

He grinned. "Just practical advice."

And then it hit me. The "firstborn." That meant the spider. My mind flashed to her - the mad, beautiful thing born from my own curse. If she was the heir, then...

"I see now," I said quietly. "It doesn"t matter who rules the land, does it? Me, or the spider after me - either way, it's still under your leash."

Even if the district existed, it would only turn into another shrine ruled by ancient monsters. A puppet realm. Just like the old days. Even the offer made to Tamaki, in the original story, must have been the same kind of trap.

(Or worse, maybe they want that - a pen full of trained killers they can control.)

Yes. A small army of exorcists, each powerful enough to erase cities, gathered neatly inside their walls - easier to watch, and easier to use. The thought made me sick.

A being like that-half-human, half-monster-doesn't just die quietly after the imperial court of Fusō falls. No, they survive. They go to ground, shift into guerrilla tactics, strike from the shadows. And those ancient beasts? They remember all too well what exorcists are capable of. The last war taught them that much.

"An autonomous district... a leash. A cage," I muttered.

Letting headstrong exorcists roam unchecked would be too dangerous. But if they were given something to protect, something they couldn't abandon? That would change the game. Exorcists don't fight for revenge alone-they fight to secure the future. Their clans. Their species. Their people. Give them an autonomous zone, and maybe they'll compromise. Maybe they'll settle. And if they're all in one place? Easier to monitor.

And maybe... maybe I'm not the only one who's been offered a deal like this.

Even they-those he and she exorcist leaders-wouldn't be stupid enough to kill the one carrying the Youbo mother's bloodline. No. More likely, they'd breed me. Leverage me. Offer up their daughters, their heirs, to make sure they had a future seat at the table. Crown me their stallion, give me a harem of host wombs, and when their goal was met? Kill me. Cut the line before I got any ideas. Same trick they used with the old emperors-make a god, then break the altar.

"She learned from the last war," Nue said, swirling his drink. "Handing people happiness doesn't make them grateful. You have to let them choose it. Give them an escape route-even if it's a trap."

"And over time, grind them down," I muttered.

Every system has power struggles. The big ones, the small ones. Anger eats stamina. Peace dulls the blade. Give it time, give it safety, and people forget what they were fighting for. The next generation won't even remember what war looked like. A patch of fertile land is all they'll need.

"Youkai, bound by terms of no feeding, would act as your protectors," Nue added casually. "They'd stay in the district, help keep order. They'd report only to you. Kill if you command it."

"How convenient," I spat.

Of course it was convenient-for him. For them. Surveillance cloaked as security. Trade deals tying me into outside economies. My life dangled as leverage while they turned the means into the end. Let time and sweetness strip the warriors of their claws. Let them forget weapons. Let their bloodlines serve mine instead.

"And maybe we make the district's borders... porous," Nue said, almost lazily. "A gray zone. A place where humans and Mōryō-monsters-can mingle without binding vows. A test. Will people choose to step outside their safety? Won't that be fascinating to observe?"

"What is this, some perverse utopia?" I snapped.

He blinked, clearly not catching the reference. Another gap in his scavenged knowledge. It was all stitched together, piecemeal.

"You're not expecting me to sign anything now, are you?" I said. "Setting deadlines is the oldest trick in the con artist's book."

"Of course not," he said. "But... if you wait too long, those you care about may get eaten by the lower ranks before the selection begins."

"You mean that clone you made of me?"

They'd already made contact with my people. I didn't know what they'd planted in that thing. Parasites? Triggers? Eggs?

"Oh, that?" Nue said. "Just bait. An experiment. Meant to draw you out. A gift, in a way."

"A gift?" I scoffed. "You're joking."

"Not at all. I'll explain, if you like."

Then, without shame, without blinking, he told me. Why it existed. What it was for. He even sounded proud of it.

I couldn't speak.

That weight-it wasn't in the words themselves, but in the shape they left in my chest.

"Use it well," he said. "It serves your interest too. And if you need cleanup... I have power. That's what it's for."

"You bastard," I whispered. "You soulless-"

But he just glanced at the empty plates and sighed. "Well. Looks like the food's gone."

I hadn't eaten a bite. He must've devoured the lot. Maybe he'd rebuilt his body to do it. Or maybe it was just performance. Who could say?

"No going Dutch, right?" I muttered.

"Ah, you beat me to it," Nue chuckled. "Tell me-was this scene familiar to you?"

I stood up before he could dig deeper. I'd had enough.

"Pity," he said behind me. "We were just getting to dessert."

"You helped build this nation," I said, turning sharply. "You stood beside the first emperor."

He narrowed his eyes. Not surprised. Not offended.

"Why?" I asked. "Why stand with monsters now? Why betray what you made?"

"Is that a trap?" he said mildly. "Or do you really not know?"

"I'm asking an answer."

His smile thinned. He poured the last of his sake, watching it swirl.

"He was a good man," Nue said at last. "A friend. A fool. A genius. He talked too much, laughed too loud, lied through his teeth. But he had a dream. It was stupid, yes. But not impossible."

"You joined that dream," I said.

"He pulled me in," Nue replied. "He used my name, my promises, my strength. Half the time I didn't even realize what I'd agreed to. But in the end, it all evened out."

His eyes softened, as if he were watching something no one else could see.

"They're all gone now. The others who helped build this place. Just me, left standing. I could've ruled. No one would've stopped me. They needed me. I had the power. And I walked away."

"Why?" I asked again.

He smiled sadly.

"Fusō was... special. A stable test bed for humanity. But now it's a mess. The system's bloated. Cracked. So I want to wipe the slate clean. Start fresh."

He said it like he was talking about buying a new notebook.

A ghost. A god. A nation's architect. And he wanted to burn it down for the fun of building again

""Ah. I see."

Understanding that any further questions would be pointless, I yanked open the room's shouji (paper door).

"Ah, customer, the bill..."

"He'll pay for it."

I snapped the dismissive reply toward the Aokitsune (Blue Fox) who was just approaching, bringing a sweet dessert with amazake (sweet fermented rice drink) as an after-meal treat. I snatched the amazake and left immediately.

"That was a productive time. Shall we have another drink sometime? As father and son, of course? I'll treat you again, you know?"

"You're not my father."

That much, at least, I made perfectly clear in response to his call from behind me.

There were no further calls from the room after that.

* * *

"Hm? Did you manage to destroy the Master's body?"

"He's still inside drinking, so wait around."

"Haha, really? When do you think he'll be back?"

It was a brief conversation with the Ezo man in the chill night wind. The Ezo man's neighbor, a former boy, was clearly projecting killing intent to keep him in check. As soon as the former boy noticed me, his demeanor completely changed, and he rushed over, looking worried.

"Brother..."

"I'm tired today. Let's head back. ...You'll take care of it?"

This meant taking care of the inevitable swarm of various tailing agents that would be showing up soon.

"A-Ah! Leave it to me!"

He responded with an earnest, desperate smile that seemed to radiate eagerness. Was he starved for affection? The thought was presumptuous and condescending, but it also made me feel a strange sense of endearment. I patted his head and walked toward the car.

"Are you all right, too?"

I called out to the maids who also served as my bodyguards, whom Kamui had knocked down earlier. I checked on their condition as they sat resting around the car.

"There is no problem. We can perform our duties... fully!"

One of them replied faithfully for the group, and the rest nodded in agreement. I nodded back. There was no point in trying to contradict them.

"When we get home, eat, sleep, and get some proper rest. Understand?"

"Master, um, perhaps that's..."

"Let's go."

I got into the carriage without responding to the maids' question and slumped deep into the seat. A sigh escaped me. Then... I violently threw up into the leather bag being offered.

"Ugh!! Eh, guh, WAAAAGH!!?"

"Brother! It's okay, it's going to be alright...!"

I kept retching, again and again, receiving back-pats until my stomach was completely empty. This was what I had desperately wanted to do ever since the middle of that conversation in the restaurant.

A sour stench filled the carriage. The leather bag was already more than half full. I panted for breath, my shoulders heaving. Sweat poured from my entire body, and my head swam. The mental strain was clearly consuming my body.

"Damn, damn it! You bastard! This is why! I... I, someone like me... Ah. I feel sick!"

"UWAAGH!!"

"Brother!"

I stroked and soothed my pale sister, who looked on the verge of tears. I offered comfort with one hand, even as I continued to throw up.

"I-I'm fine... I'm fine, haha. No problem... As if, right?"

I couldn't even manage a weak show of bravado. It was horrifying to accept each thing that had been revealed. My sense of self, my identity, felt like it was about to shatter.

"I... I am... That's right. That's right. I'm me. To be this affected by this... pathetic!"

Compared to me, the two Juuyaku (Executives), or maybe even Shishimai, had a much more miserable existence. Compared to them, I truly was pathetic. If it wasn't about me, I wouldn't have been so shaken. Besides, how much of that conversation could even be determined as fact?

"...Brother."

"Haa, haa... Don't make a sound like that. Haha. I guess I drank too much, huh? ...So, want some? I still have some of that amazake left."

"Smells like fox, don't want it."

"Guh!?"

As I soothed my pale sister and offered the borrowed amazake to the other presence, the blue demon (oni) was already seated cross-legged directly across from me. Shirona, the pale fox sister, was startled and drew back in fear. The beautiful visage of the wicked demon—bared fangs, narrowed eyes—stared keenly like a predator spotting its prey.

"...Just so you know, even if I give you the scroll, the situation won't change. He'll just pop out and hand over a spare anyway. It would be more effective to just go beat those guys to death."

This was a suggestion based on what I assumed was the oni's reason for showing up here. She was a deeply committed, excessively heroic, and strange demon. I almost wished he would go and punch them as he suggested. Mutual annihilation would be the best-case scenario.

"Isn't that your job? You're my opening act, so go and get that done quickly, will you?"

"You ask too much."

I grumbled, but inside, I was relieved. There was always a chance I could have been instantly turned into a bloody pulp. Getting that comment out of her was a lucky break. At least the game wasn't over yet.

...Not that I'd just willingly die when the time came; I'd fight back with everything I had.

"The highlight right now is probably facing that person. I'm really looking forward to the tragedy you're going to show me. Get through it well, won't you? Heroes become strong by shouldering a lot of sorrow, you see."

The oni grinned, her face twisting in delight. It was like a lion teasing a chick. Purely bad taste.

"You're a demon, all right."

"Am I not?"

"I guess so. Honestly, I'm surprised. I thought you'd fail me back at the yashiki (estate)."

I had been secretly dreading that my weakness—my compromise with the women or my transaction with the evil god—would be marked as a failing grade.

"It's not some cheesy reason like 'a hero loves a little color,' you know? No, seeing that fair-haired girl's composed face break into tears was a masterpiece! And what's more—!"

"Woah!?"

The oni suddenly stood up, looming right over me. She reeked strongly of alcohol. I instinctively covered my mouth from her breath. I raised my arms and braced myself for whatever was coming...!

"...What is that?"

"What is what? I won big, so I thought I'd answer your expectations."

"Answer whose?"

The oni struck a determined pose that seemed to answer the riddle, 'Which South American country shares a land border with Panama in Central America?'—a conversation that made absolutely no sense.

"If you're a man, don't sweat the small stuff! Look, look, my wallet is flush thanks to you back then! Here, I'll share this warm, satisfying feeling with you!"

(That's more sticky than warm and satisfying.)

Specifically, the face she buried in my exposed collar was now smeared with alcoholic sweat. Being hugged by a demon whose looks were the only redeeming feature was not a pleasant experience.

"Hey, aren't you happy being hugged by a beauty? Want some milk?"

"Actually, can I throw up on your chest?"

"Oh, please don't."

The oni hastily pushed her face away from where it was buried upon hearing my request. The strength I felt even in her light movements reminded me again of her monstrous power.

"Well, then. I guess this is where I put a pin in things for now, huh?"

"Huh!?"

Then the oni stepped over Shiro and the others to grab the leather bag. She actually sniffed the contents, pinched her nose, and smirked.

"Don't smell it."

"I'm taking this, okay?"

"What are you going to use that for?"

"Supply and demand."

She clearly wasn't planning on asking permission, sealing the leather bag like a water balloon and shaking it playfully.

"See ya then. Byebye?"

With that unilateral farewell, the oni dispersed like mist. She faded away like dew dissolving into a haze.

"Brother..."

"...It's alright. She's gone now, I think."

I calmed my younger sister-figure, who was still fearful and on guard. All right, I thought. As if. Not when this car is being entered and exited at his whim.

"Master? Did something... happen?"

The maid's voice called out, tapping on the window. Because the carriage was shielded by a Barrier Curse (protective spell) for soundproofing, nothing should have been detectable from the outside... but perhaps it was because the door was half-open. Of course, that was how.

"No. Nothing happened... Sorry. Could you hand me the leather bag?"

I made the request—it was more of an order, really—while holding Shiro on my lap and stroking her head.

"...Could we stay like this for a bit?"

"B-Brother!? Wh-What are you...!?"

Without waiting for a reply, I hugged her tightly, clinging to her as a younger brother might cling to his older sister.

"Please. ...I miss it."

I missed the warmth of human skin. The comfort of family. Having someone to lean on. Someone to indulge with.

Because if I didn't, I felt like I would keep throwing up forever.

I felt like I would throw up everything precious to me along with the vomit.

"Please... just be my family..."

Notes:

• Fuumi - One of the playful twin girls; energetic and sweet. Often paired with Shii in mischievous antics, she's reflective and emotionally tuned in, sharing a deep concern for their mother, Amatsuru.