by Nikita Thorn
Chapter 04
As the diminutive old lady bid them goodnight, slid shut the creaky broken door and disappeared down the hallway with her fickle candle, Seiki could not help wondering what he had gotten himself into.
“It’s a… sleepover?” Mairin said, doubtfully, from the darkness somewhere behind him.
They had been unable to get Ippei to divulge more information about the mission, except a passing comment of it being comical. From the looks of things so far, comical was the last adjective Seiki would think of.
The mission had all the trappings of a ghost story right from the beginning, save for a ghost, which was yet to appear. The rundown farmhouse was located in a strangely dry field with tall yellow grass that hosted no visible life. Although it was not far from Shinshioka, through the clever use of angles and hills, the city was completely hidden from sight, making the place seem very remote, as if they were approaching the end of the world. To help make matters more convincing, as soon as they had stepped into the vicinity, their horses had bolted in terror. They had let out a kind of shriek Seiki did not know horses were capable of, and refused to go any further.
“I can’t believe you came here alone,” Mairin had said to Koharu as they neared the dark wooden house, the front of which was lined with broken gray paper windows and cracked walls, giving the impression of a gaping mouth with missing teeth. The whole place creaked mysteriously, even when there was no wind.
The old lady turned out to be not dead, as Koharu had said, but very small and old, and rather confused. According to her brief and rather incomprehensible introduction, she was called Dairi, or perhaps that was her late husband’s name. It had been such a long time and her memory was not as it used to be, but she was happy to have visitors.
Once they stepped into her dusty house, the sun conveniently dropped below the horizon and the old lady claimed it was too dangerous to venture out in the wilderness. She then started laying out a large musty futon for them in the guestroom, asked them to stay the night, and announced she was tired and had to get some sleep.
The guestroom, one of the three in the house, was rather small. It was separated from the hallway by a torn shoji sliding door with ripped paper hanging in long strips from the frames, like white fingers on a dead hand. The other side of the room was a wooden window that would not open. And strewn around the room were piles of clothes, or pieces of old futons and mats, none of which Seiki could really see right now since the old lady had left with her candle.
“I’m sure she’s going to come back in the middle of the night and try to murder us,” said Mairin, as the candle light disappeared down the hallway, leaving the guestroom in near complete darkness.
Seiki found himself standing in the corner of the room, slightly at a loss as to what to do. The mission was not as he had expected.
“Murderer?” Koharu could be heard from the other side of the room. “She doesn’t seem the type.”
Despite the old lady’s odd behaviors, Seiki was inclined to agree. Apart from her habit of calling them by whatever random names she happened to be able to come up with at the moment, she seemed genuinely kind and hospitable. Seiki could not make himself believe that she was a secret psychopath. Somehow, she reminded him of a particularly kind old landlady, who used to give him food when he came back late from practice.
“Maybe there will be robbers coming,” suggested the obake. “And we have to protect her.”
Seiki glanced around. His eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness and he could see that, through the cracks in the window, faint, cold moonlight was shining through, turning the room pretty much black and white.
Mairin shrugged. “It’s not like she has anything worth robbing. Look at this place.” Suddenly, there was a white fox jumping up and down on the thick futon on the floor, pumping out thick clouds of dust.
“Stop it!” Koharu said, laughing, waving her long sleeves in the air in front of her to fend off the dust. “And who knows? She might have a secret stash of gold buried somewhere.”
The kitsune had started dashing around Koharu, who was trying to catch her. Seiki became aware, right there, that nothing in life had prepared him to deal with the situation where you were stuck in a dark, tiny, possibly haunted bedroom with two bored girls.
Apparently, kitsune could see rather well in the dark while in fox form, and Mairin paused as she spotted something. Turning back into a human girl, she picked up a small long stick from the corner of the room. “At least, she has one candle buried here in her pile of clothes,” she said.
“Well, let’s get a light going, then,” said Koharu. “Anyone’s got one of those lighter things?”
Seiki reached for his tinderbox. “I do.” Even when he had never done it before, lighting a candle the ancient way turned out to be simpler than he had imagined. The flint produced a very satisfying ring and the spark leapt gracefully onto the char cloth, which immediately caught fire and then magically extinguished itself once the candle was lit.
There was something quite delightful about the flame in the dark. Seiki felt a rather silly sense of fascination, even when the old grayish wax was flaky in his hands, and the light did not seem like it was going to last them a very long time.
“Is it me or is it now even creepier with the candle?” asked Koharu.
She might have a point. The dim candle flame was a sickly shade of yellow. It was now responsible for long black shadows everywhere, making dark corners even darker. All around, jagged black shapes were swaying on the walls, like a field of alien grass in a shadow puppet show. The fact that the obake herself had no shadow added to the strangeness of the scene, as if she had been superimposed onto the image afterward.
Mairin was switching back and forth between her two forms, as she liked to do to amuse herself when she was feeling bored. A funny thought then crossed Seiki’s mind; he was—at least lore-wise—the only human being in this house, not counting the old lady, whose status was still debatable.
Nothing was happening, and Seiki was starting to wonder how to get the first phase started.
“This is like camp,” said Mairin after a while, her eyes gleaming in the dim yellow light, either from excitement or mischief. “The adults are asleep, and you turn on a torch and tell ghost stories.”
“I think we’re already in one,” said Seiki. He had never been afraid of ghosts, but the dreary and absolutely silent atmosphere was making him a little apprehensive.
“Never went to camp,” said Koharu.
“Come on, sit down,” said the kitsune, as she dropped onto the futon. “Come on, Seiki.”
Not sure what she was trying to achieve, Seiki reluctantly sat down beside her.
“Koharu?” said Mairin, and the obake obliged.
“Now, who’s got a story to tell?” asked the kitsune.
Koharu sighed. “Are we actually doing this?”
“Well, we’ve got to wait till the old lady comes back and tries to kill us.” Mairin giggled. “And how can a ghost be scared of ghosts?”
“I’m not!” said Koharu.
“Okay, I’ve got one,” said Mairin. Seiki could see she was enjoying this.
“A long time ago,” the kitsune began, mysteriously. “A samurai and his wife were traveling home from a long journey.”
Koharu pursed her lips. “Oh, and you just happen to have one about samurai.”
Mairin ignored her remark and continued, “The journey took many days, and the road was unfamiliar. Soon, the couple realized that they were lost. The sun was setting and, not wanting to spend the night in the wilderness, they started to worry. Luckily, they spotted a roof in the distance, and they hurried toward it and found that it was an old temple. They knocked on the door, and an old monk came out to greet them. At first, the monks were not willing to let them stay, but they begged and promised to leave at sunrise, so they gave them a small room in one of the buildings. From their room, they could see that the r
oof they had spotted earlier belonged to an old four-storied bell tower. The monks told them not to leave the room and especially not to go near the bell tower, since it had been sealed shut for many years by a senior monk.”
Mairin paused for a second.
“That night, the samurai was woken up by his wife, who said she had heard the bell ring from the bell tower. ‘How is that possible?’ asked the samurai. ‘The tower has been abandoned for many years. It must have been a dream.’ The samurai then told his wife to go back to sleep.”
“Later in the night, the samurai dreamed he was climbing the bell tower. At the top was a gigantic old bronze bell, covered with dust. As he got nearer, it clanged without notice. The sound of the bell woke him up, and he realized that his wife was no longer sleeping beside him.”
“He ran out to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, he heard the bell ring from the abandoned bell tower and he rushed toward it. As he drew closer, he saw a woman standing behind its high window, looking out. It was his wife. He waved and called to her, but she did not respond. She then looked back behind her at something in the tower, and let out a cry.”
“The samurai rushed to her aid but, when he reached the door of the bell tower, his wife was already there at the bottom of the steps. She was pale and told him that she had discovered a terrible secret that the monks had tried to keep hidden, and she pleaded with him to come with her.”
“They went back up to the bell tower. The top floor was empty, except for the old bronze bell. ‘What is the terrible secret that you have discovered?’ the samurai asked his wife, to which she replied, ‘Ring the bell and look down.’ So he rang the old bell, and went to the window, and looked down. And there, on the ground below, was the broken body of his wife, who had jumped to her death. The samurai turned around, and the person he thought was his wife—”
Mairin stopped.
“Uh,” said Koharu.
The kitsune turned into a fox, and tilted her head. Koharu glanced at Seiki.
“You can’t end the story there,” said the obake.
Mairin turned back into human. “You hear that?” she whispered.
Koharu said, “That’s not funny.”
“Listen!” said the kitsune. “It’s like a soft thud, thud, thud.”
They stopped to listen.
“Now it’s gone,” said Mairin.
Seiki ignored what he was supposed to be listening for but, even when straining his ears, he could hear absolutely nothing.
“Wait. There it is again, thud, thud, thud,” said Mairin.
“That is really not funny!” whispered Koharu.
“What is it?” asked Seiki.
Mairin shook her head. “I don’t know. But I think it’s in this house.” She then added, “It’s coming closer.”
They went silent again, but everything was quiet.
“Seiki,” Koharu said, breathily. “Light over there please?” She was keeping very still as she glanced toward the corner of the room.
“Why are you whispering?” Mairin asked in almost a whisper herself.
Seiki got up and moved over to the obake with the candle.
“Here?” In front of him was a pile of rags. The candle had melted off more than half its length.
“I think,” said Koharu. “I saw something move.”
They stopped to listen again, but the messy pile was completely still.
“I swear something moved.”
Perhaps to get rid of the growing sense of unease, the white fox was immediately on it, digging through the pile of fabric. Yet, she found nothing but bits of old clothes.
“Maybe we’re supposed to pretend to be asleep, then the ghost appears?” said Mairin. Seiki glanced at the single futon and decided to say nothing.
Koharu gasped all of a sudden. In reaction, Mairin jumped, and Seiki’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
“The old lady’s got an old Imperial Kimono in her wardrobe!” said the obake, pulling out a long-sleeved piece of glittering rag from the pile.
Mairin cleared her throat.
“Look at these gold patterns,” said Koharu.
Seiki finally decided that whatever they were doing was not working and, even when he had never been afraid of ghosts, this whole eerie atmosphere was making him rather uncomfortable. “Maybe we’re meant to go out and explore,” he said.
“If we can,” whispered Mairin.
“What do you mean?”
“Usually, the door is locked, and we’ll be screaming ‘Let us out! Let us out!’ and banging on the door.”
“Are you just trying to scare me?” said Koharu.
“You’re the one who saw something moving.”
Seiki glanced at the broken shoji door, which was so flimsy that he was certain he did not even need a Focused Strike to break through. Shaking his head, he slid it open.
Floating in front of him was an old lady’s disembodied head.
“Ah!” Seiki leapt back in alarm, before realizing that the head was still pretty much connected to the body. The old lady Dairi was holding up her dim candle—which illuminated only her face—while below it, her black nightgown blended seamlessly into the darkness of the hallway.
“They did that on purpose,” Seiki muttered, letting out a breath he had not been aware he had been holding.
The old lady blinked as she saw him. “Oh, I have guests!” she said in delight, as if she had just remembered. “Yutaro! Is everything all right?”
Seiki did not have time to be amused by the random name. Behind him, Koharu let out a scream.
The first thought that flashed through his mind was that the obake had spotted the old lady and was startled, but that idea immediately vanished as he felt movement behind him.
Seiki spun around.
In the middle of the room, something that looked like a black, giant wave had towered up almost to the ceiling, and was threatening to crash over the obake. It took him a second to figure out that it was the mattress, which had grown a snarling face and two tattered cloth arms.
The mattress smashed down on Koharu and cut short her scream, just as Seiki drew his sword and charged at it. He was both unsettled, by how unnaturally the monster dragged itself across the floor with its two arms, and relieved now that there was something tangible to fight.
Having no time for a Slide, he hit it in the middle with Sweeping Blade, causing a cloud of dust to explode from the thick fabric. The blade of the Hikari did not really cut through it, and it felt more like beating a rug more than anything. In an instant, the mattress folded itself over the sword. Seiki yanked it away just in time before it could tighten its grip, remembering now why he hated fighting sentient cloth.
Seiki had dropped the candle and its flame flickered as it rolled on the floor, casting dark shadows upward. The mattress turned to look around, its thick tail end shuffling noisily on the floor.
Boroboroton [Level 13]. HP 762/860.
The old lady was saying, “One of your friends is… very large.” She seemed to be squinting as she tried to peer into the dim room.
At her voice, the mattress turned its attention on the old lady and charged forward, shuffling along the floor like a giant lizard. As it passed over the candle, it extinguished the flame, leaving the room in near complete darkness again. Seiki rushed in front of his host as the Boroboroton tried to throw itself over her. His Parry met the soft mattress and knocked it aside, sending it crashing into the shoji door beside them, which immediately toppled over and broke into pieces.
“And quite violent,” said the old lady, turning to look in surprise at the mattress, which was now twisting itself back.
“It’s your freakin’ futon!” said Mairin, her smoky Fox Dust ability bursting from her hand at the monster’s back. The cursed mattress flipped over and went after her, and the white fox Dashed away. Seiki was taking this chance to plunge his blade into it with Focused Strike, when
it swept its hind end to one side as his blade was trapped in it. The maneuver almost threw Seiki off his balance as he struggled to hold on to his Hikari.
“Can’t believe you tried to have us sleep on an evil futon!” said Mairin, running away from the mattress. Despite what she said, she seemed to be having fun.
It took a moment before the terror registered for the old lady. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed, her voice hoarse with fear.
Dairi Residence Mission Progress: Phase 1. Help the old lady deal with nighttime disturbances at her house.
“Finally.” Seiki breathed a sigh of relief.
“Disturbances is an understatement,” said Mairin, as she shot another bout of Fox Dust. “And what the heck kind of name is Boroboroton anyway?” The monster lunged at her, and she yelped and Dashed away as a fox again. “And where is Koharu?”
Boroboroton [Level 13]. HP 692/860.
It was chaotic in the dark, and Seiki suspected the monster was not taking as much damage as it should. But then, it was difficult to judge from the cushioned impact whether he had managed to land a direct hit or not.
At his level, Seiki knew his biggest burst—which was a perfectly-executed Slide into a Focused Strike—could deal almost 200 damage. Wasting no time, he plotted out a short path on the floor and plunged his blade into the thick fabric body. The mattress yielded in a very unsatisfying manner and folded itself over his sword hand, instantly numbing it as it started to drain his life.
Grunting, he pulled his sword back. However, the whole piece of futon immediately shot up high above his head, before bending backward over him. The upside-down face, with hollow eyes and large tattered holes for nostrils, stared at him as it twisted its neck a hundred and eighty degrees around until it was right side up again. There was something genuinely disturbing about the way it moved, and Seiki pushed his energy downward to the floor and slid out of the way before its body closed in. Spinning back, he struck out with Sweeping Blade.
Boroboroton [Level 13]. HP 604/860.
The monster rolled over easily and re-emerged under itself. Its legless tail end slapped noisily against the wall as it now went after the white fox, who was too fast for it to catch. Seiki’s hunch was right. The monster was not taking as much damage as it should.