Occultic;Nine Volume 2

by Chiyomaru Shikura

  I went to take a sip of the water in front of me when I felt a cold wind and shivered.

  The cosplaying middle school boy was still standing with the entrance door open, and the cold air was blowing in.

  “Hey, boyfriend! It’s cold out. Can you shut the door?” Master Izumin said from behind the counter, turning toward the door. But when he saw that the person there wasn’t someone he recognized, he put his hands over his mouth.

  “Oh wow, a new customer? Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

  “Are you not open yet?”

  “We most certainly are! It’s not night so I can’t serve alcohol, but of course we’re open! Though sometimes we do get visitors who aren’t really customers. Hehehe.” Master Izumin glanced at me with a creepy smile.

  I’ll admit I only ever order water here. I thought about saying something, but I didn’t want to get into an argument over something so stupid now, so I just ignored it.

  More importantly—

  “Then give me whatever you recommend. Something cold.”

  “Sure thing. Sit wherever you like.”

  The cosplaying middle school boy came into the shop and sat a ways away from me.

  Our eyes met and he flashed me the innocent smile of a child.

  It felt strange.

  Until now, I’d had Blue Moon basically to myself in the afternoon, so it was rare to see another customer.

  From the way Master Izumin was acting, this was his first time at the café. Was he really just a customer? Or maybe—

  “Here you go! ‘Today’s Fully Loaded Lucky Latte, Supervised by Myuu Aikawa.’”

  Wait, he served him THAT?

  He called it a latte, but it looked like a muddy, grey soup. Like cement before it dried.

  And he said Myu-Pom supervised it, but that was a total lie.

  The cosplaying middle school boy was reacting with exaggerated joy, oblivious to the hell that was to come. If he drank it down and liked it, like Ryotasu did, it would mean he was a hell of a lot more than he appeared.

  “Wow, this is amazing. It looks like it packs a punch!”

  Without the slightest doubt in his voice, he put the straw to his mouth and took a sip—

  “Huh? He’s drinking it normally...”

  And then started to hack and cough.

  “GWAAHH! This is barf! This is totally barf! What the hell is this?”

  “Pffft...” I laughed to myself.

  Evidently he was just a dork. Somebody give me back the HP I lost when he came in.

  And then he handed me the terror-drink.

  “You’re laughing, but you’ll understand when you drink it! Try it! It’s terrible!”

  “No... no thanks. I can guess just from the way it looks, and I know that series.”

  More importantly, the way he’d said ‘barf’ was striking me as increasingly funny, and it hurt not to laugh.

  “I want to try it...” Ryotasu was sitting next to me, looking at the drink with stars in her eyes. She looked like she could reach out and grab the glass at any moment.

  “Ryotasu, that’s amazing... He says it’s barf... and you still want to drink it?”

  “Hmph.” Master Izumin was pouting and looking upset. “I put all the lucky items for today in it! It’s rude to say it doesn’t taste good! Hmph! HMPH!”

  “Sir, even if you put in all lucky ingredients, this taste is definitely unlucky!” The cosplaying middle school boy was laughing, but he was being utterly brutal towards Master Izumin.

  Not bad.

  Master Izumin had a very forceful appearance and personality, and it took guts to be able to talk to him like that just five minutes after meeting him.

  “Still, I didn’t know that there were barf-drinks like this in the world.”

  “Feel free to try the whole Barf Series.” I was starting to lose the ability to not laugh, so I interrupted them.

  I’d held back my laughter so much my stomach hurt.

  The cosplaying middle school boy was still going on.

  “I guess if you wanted to give the series a name, you could call it ‘The Barf-Drinks.’ Or maybe not. Maybe something more dreamy, like ‘Fantastic Barf’? No... Or if the the theme is ‘luck,’ maybe just...”

  “Lucky Barf!” Ryotasu’s idea, unsurprisingly, was the worst one of all. That was something different entirely. Who’d want to drink that?

  “Mask of Barf!”

  That one sounded too much like Zoro.

  “Barf-Barf!”

  That wasn’t right at all.

  “Aww, jeez! What is wrong with you people! Gamota! I’m going upstairs! As punishment, you watch the store! I’m out of tequila! Sheesh!”

  It didn’t feel quite fair to make me do it, but Master Izumin left the store, shoulders shaking with anger. There was a small café/bar on the floor upstairs, run by a different owner. That one wasn’t open during the day, so I’d never been there.

  “I’ll go too!”

  Ryotasu followed Master Izumin, and it was just me and the cosplaying middle school boy, and we were still laughing.

  I laughed so much all the dark emotions I’d felt over the last week disappeared.

  It felt like it had been a long, long time.

  And for that, I needed to thank him.

  He offered me the fully loaded lucky drink once more.

  “Here, you should take a drink. Just a sip.”

  “No way.” I knew it tasted like barf. I wasn’t going to drink it.

  We’d been repeating that same exchange for a while now, and it was still funny. At this point, everything we said seemed funny.

  “You know, you look just like Zenigata, man. If that’s cosplay, it’s barf-inducing.”

  “Cosplay, huh? That’s my barf-dream.”

  “Sometimes you get girls who are barfy-cute at cosplay conventions. I keep trying to get Ryotasu to do it.”

  “I’ve been to Comiket. I bought some barfy doujin.”

  “What’s a barfy doujin? Ahahah. I don’t think I want to know, do I?”

  “By the way, it’s barfy-hot in here. Aren’t you hot in that?”

  “I’m barfy-fine.”

  “I hear if someone rips out your molar, it barfy-hurts.”

  “Barfff—?!”

  What?

  What did he just say?

  “By the way, this isn’t cosplay. This is my uniform.” The cosplaying middle school boy was still laughing as he took what looked like a notebook out of his jacket pocket and showed it to me. It was something I’d only ever seen on police shows on TV.

  A police notebook...

  “You were just thinking that you’re in barfy-trouble, weren’t you? So, I’ll ask again. Have you ever pulled out someone’s molar?”

  “Th-The police...” I’d let my guard down!

  Hahhahh hahh...

  I’d let my guard down...!

  I could barely breathe.

  ‘Had I ever pulled out a molar?’ He knew everything! He wasn’t a middle-schooler! He wasn’t a cosplayer! He was a real detective, just like I’d first thought! I’d been fooled by his appearance! I’d been an idiot to open up to him!

  “Oh? Are we done with the barf stuff? Because you look like you’re about to barf. What’s wrong, Yuta Gamon, Student Number 3 in Class 2-B at Seimei High?”

  “...!”

  He was here to arrest me!

  My teeth started to chatter. I bit down on my molars to make them stop.

  This was bad. This was really bad. Sarai wasn’t here yet. Sarai wasn’t here to testify to my innocence! Even though I was here alone with a detective! Why had Master Izumin and Ryotasu and Myu-Pom and Sarai all left me alone?! Someone, anyone, come and help me! At this rate, I’d be arrested! I’d be taken to the police station and it would be over! They’d lock me in a room and interrogate me, alternating between feeding me katsudon and cussing me out in some cliche good-cop bad-cop routine until I confessed to a crime I didn’t commit!

  I needed to
escape somehow.

  But—

  Then I realized.

  I’d thought that this detective had come here alone. But did he, really?

  What if there were a bunch of tough-looking detectives outside, waiting for me? Maybe there were dozens of cop cars lined up on the street outside. When that idea flashed through my mind, I couldn’t move another step.

  “It wasn’t... me...”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It wasn’t me...!”

  “This conversation’s turning barfy. I just asked if you’d ever pulled a molar out. I’m going to a dentist to get my wisdom teeth removed. And I bet it hurts like barf. I’ve always hated dentists...”

  He was lying. Wisdom teeth, my ass. He was laughing the whole time, but his eyes weren’t laughing at all.

  “So if you’ve ever pulled out a molar, I’d like you to tell me how it went. I mean, you and I are barf-brothers, right? Hahaha.”

  There was no way I could laugh.

  Sweat was pouring out of my body.

  I couldn’t breathe. If I breathed, it felt like he’d accuse me.

  I looked frantically for an exit, but I couldn’t think.

  All I could do was retreat into a world of fantasy and think about how nice it would be if I could teleport.

  Just when I was about to give up—

  “I’m back, Gamotan! Ryotasu went with me, so I got a little present! Look at this delicious chiffon cake!”

  Ryotasu and Master Izumin were back.

  At the same time they came in, the detective put a rumpled 1000-yen bill on the table and stood up.

  “!!” I gasped.

  “Anyway, I have to get going.

  “...?”

  Going? Where? I couldn’t look at his face. All I could do was stare at my feet and pray that nothing happened, and that he didn’t take me away.

  “Oh, what’s wrong, Gamota-kun? You’re soaking with sweat,” asked Master Izumin.

  “Pu-♪ u-♪ ru? Pu-♪ u-♪ ru? Pu-♪ u-♪ ru-♪ da-♪ pu-♪ u-♪ ru?” Ryotasu was singing the Puuru Song, or perhaps the Pool Song, as she danced.

  But of course, I couldn’t join in.

  “I’m glad I got to have a barfy-chat with you today.”

  “...”

  The detective headed for the exit.

  He wasn’t going to arrest me? Why not?

  “Sir, I’ve left the money for the barfy-latte on the table.”

  “Stop calling it ‘barfy’! I’ve never had someone insult my drinks like that. It hurts.”

  “Hahaha. Sorry. I’m an honest person.” The detective laughed in a loud voice.

  He turned back to me and waved a little.

  “See you again,” he said, and he left.

  He really left.

  I waited over ten minutes, and he never came back.

  “Am I... safe...? Or did he let me go...?”

  “Poya-ya?” Ryotasu tilted her head and made a noise like an idiot. But I’d never been so happy to see her empty-headed face before.

  I finally stopped feeling nervous, and suddenly felt very tired.

  What was that detective thinking?

  “But still...”

  That strange way he talked, like he was making fun of you, and the way he tried to trick you into saying things... I thought I’d heard it somewhere before.

  Yeah, somewhere...

  “Myu-Pom’s Nicco-Nico Live Fortune-Telling?!”

  site 46: Aria Kurenaino

  It felt a little awkward being in Harmonica Alley in the afternoon.

  I lived a nocturnal life, like a vampire, and it was rare for me to be in the shop at this hour. A life lived without sunlight suited my biorhythms far better.

  But today I’d been summoned here at this hour. Thanks to that I felt a bit sleep-deprived. My mind felt hazy.

  The window was covered with a black curtain, and a little bit of light leaked through. The countless particles of dust that filled the air of the store glistened in it. As I followed the dust with my eyes, I started to feel like I was drunk. I poured some steaming herbal tea into my favorite cup to stop from throwing up.

  “So,” I said to the empty shop, “did you find a clue?”

  The only one who could call me here was the devil.

  I’d sensed him the minute I’d come into the shop, but I hadn’t spoken to him yet.

  There was no explanation as to why he’d summoned me here. Maybe he’d called me here now because I would be too busy at night?

  Impossible.

  The devil wouldn’t care about that, and I didn’t expect him to.

  I was just here because he’d told me to come.

  There was nothing more to it than that.

  〈Yeah, I caught ’em. Just now, actually.〉 The devil’s unpleasant voice echoed in my head.

  I never got used to hearing it, but still, I felt relieved. It made me feel like I was still connected to him.

  The unpleasant voice was a small price to pay for a contract with a devil.

  〈You remember that guy in the trench coat who was watching this place?〉

  “...?”

  Watching this place...? When was that?

  As I tried to remember, I could sense the devil clicking his tongue in frustration.

  〈You’re not careful. That’s why you get set up.〉

  “I make sure to forget anything I’m not interested in.”

  Of course, the devil had a point.

  Whoever had put Dr. Hashigami’s hair into my mailbox had known that I was careless like that.

  —I just wanted to live life like a dead girl, possessed by a devil. That was all.

  〈A guy who looks like a little kid, wearing a trench coat and a cap. I’ve seen him at least twice wandering around outside.〉

  “Who is he?”

  〈No idea. But it’s clear he’s planning something. So last time I saw him, I decided to follow him instead. And then I ran into an unexpected group.〉

  An unexpected group?

  〈You remember those two girls who asked for the Devil’s Ritual?〉

  I did. They’d asked me to curse a boy who’d been cheating on them. They were still in high school, but paid almost seventy thousand yen like it was nothing. I’d wondered why they didn’t seem to be that upset when they were willing to pay that much money.

  The boy they’d had cursed... his name was Yuta Gamon, if I remembered correctly.

  〈I followed the guy in the trench coat and ran into one of them. The bitch with the huge tits.〉

  “That’s a disgusting way to describe her.”

  〈And that ain’t all. The manslut she told you to curse was there, too.〉

  “...”

  〈The client, the guy she wanted to curse, and the shady asshole who’s been hanging around out front were all in the same place. It’s a place called Café☆Blue Moon.〉

  “Sure it’s not a coincidence?”

  〈I’m telling you, stupid. There was nobody else in the place. The three of them were talking about something. It looked weirdly serious. It’s obvious they’re all working together to investigate us.〉

  “If they’re trying to find out about the existence of devils...” I took “Coven,” one of my dolls, and pressed down hard on each of its five eyes, “we’ll have to respond appropriately.”

  If anyone found out I had a contract with a devil, my peaceful life would be over, and more rats would start to try to sniff around in my past.

  I did not want that.

  〈If they want a fight, let’s give one to them first.〉

  “...”

  I took another sip of herbal tea to calm myself down—

  And realized it had gone cold.

  site 47: Sarai Hashigami

  The sun was about to set, and the sky was starting to turn purple.

  When I opened the door to Café☆ Blue Moon, where I was supposed to meet Yuta Gamon, it was already past five.

  It was my fir
st time in the place. The interior design seemed very adult. Not the kind of place a high schooler would choose. Between the decorations and the faint smell of tar, it was less like a café and more like a café bar.

  I came up with several hypotheses about the connection between Yuta Gamon and this place, but I decided it was a waste to spend valuable brain memory on something like that and gave up halfway.

  There were three other people in the room, besides the owner.

  A man and two women.

  The man was Yuta Gamon. He was sitting in a corner seat, and had his hands wrapped around his knees for some reason.

  One of the girls was Miyuu Aikawa. I’d met her earlier. She was the one who’d told me about Yuta Gamon.

  When our eyes met, she looked surprised, then stood up and gave me a little bow. I nodded to her.

  As for the other girl...

  I didn’t know her, and yet...

  “Poor Sarai-kyun! ♪ Poor Sarai-kun! ♪”

  P-Poor Sarai-kun?!

  For some reason this woman sympathizing with me was sitting next to Yuta Gamon, so I figured she was with him, but...

  Now she was dancing around the shop. Looking at her, I lost all confidence in my analysis. That’s how hard it was to read her actions.

  I wasn’t sure if she was part of Kirikiri Basara, or maybe she was just an employee here at Blue Moon. That would only make sense if the place included a service where the employees danced for the customers, though.

  ...It was immediately clear, however, that this wasn’t that type of place.

  If she was taking pity on me, that meant she knew my dad was dead. But that didn’t tell me who she was.

  As for Yuta Gamon, he was glaring at me angrily.

  “What is it? I’m sorry I’m late, but I’d already been scheduled to work, and I told you that over the phone.”

  “...”

  Gamon said nothing. Instead he just pouted and looked away. He was acting just like a child, but—

  “You look pale. Something bad happened because I was late, didn’t it? But I wasn’t the direct cause of whatever it was, so you can’t bring yourself to blame me. Is that it? Did the police question you or something?”

  Gamon’s whole body twitched.

  “H-How...”

  “It’s obvious.”

  Holding your knees, psychologically speaking, means you’re trying to protect yourself. At least, that’s what one theory says. It’s the same thing pill bugs do.