by Shin Towada
A kindly smile curled Yoshimura’s lips as Uta spoke so politely to him. He was an older man, but one who gave off a sense of unfathomable power. Noticing Asa, he asked, “Who’s this?”
“Oh! I’m Asa, Uta’s prospective apprentice.”
Uta neither confirmed nor denied Asa’s casual assertion. Yoshimura narrowed his eyes at her as she felt her dejection set in yet again. “Well, come on in, at least,” he said, waving them into the shop.
“How’s your health?” Uta asked.
“Need to take it easy. Can’t really leave the café, but otherwise well enough.”
Yoshimura fetched them some coffee as they took seats at the counter. Asa had never been to a café like this one, but the luxuriant aroma rising from her coffee cup was enough to tell her it was of topmost quality.
“So, what’s going on?”
Uta took out the photograph. “The police are looking for whoever made this mask. I think it may have been Tsumugi.”
Yoshimura furrowed his brow. “If something like this is making the rounds, I suppose that means something happened to ‘him.’”
“Has Tsumugi been by here recently?”
“No. I’d been on a break from working the café for a while, but I haven’t seen her.”
The conversation went on, the others ignoring Asa as she struggled to follow what they were talking about. Without much else to do, she sipped her coffee and looked around the café. The place had quite the subdued atmosphere for an establishment run by Ghouls. They probably got a lot of human customers as well. That made Asa somewhat jealous.
“He may have been neglecting his other info-gathering duties because he’s been caught up with that other thing. I’ll look into it,” Yoshimura said.
“All right. I’ll go check up on Tsumugi then.”
The conversation seemed to have wrapped up. Seeing Uta get to his feet, Asa hurriedly followed after him. “Uta, what are we doing next?”
“I’m going to Tsumugi’s house. She’s here in the 20th Ward, so it’s not far.”
Soon Asa would be face-to-face with this Tsumugi. Would she have the sullen demeanor of a Ghoul artisan? Or would she possess the refined beauty that she’d conveyed through her mask? Asa could feel the anticipation blossoming within her.
“This place?”
Unlike Anteiku, where Uta had taken her just previously, there were few people roaming the streets here on the outskirts of town. The small, old, Western-style house looked like it could easily have been haunted.
Uta knocked on the door, but there was no response from within.
“Guess she’s not home.”
“No, I think she is,” Uta said, and true to his words, Asa soon felt someone approaching from inside the house. She swallowed a breath and waited.
At last, the door opened, revealing—
“What’s with you, old lady?” Asa blurted. She was an elderly woman, probably in her eighties, her face crisscrossed with wrinkles and her back hunched. She gave off none of the same menace Yoshimura had, and her scent was human. “What are you, the housekeeper or something? We’re here for Tsumugi. Go get her for us.”
How dare this dirty old hag impose upon them so? Asa was dejected, but in response to her slights, the old woman said, “Yes, I am Tsumugi.”
“Huh?” Asa’s train of thought was momentarily broken. She turned to Uta. “No, this can’t be …”
“Tsumugi Yamagata. She’s a seamstress,” Uta said, introducing the old woman.
“Whaaat? You’re telling me this little old witch of a lady made that mask?”
Tsumugi’s expression remained unchanged despite Asa’s rude words. “At least a witch would be far more charming than you Ghouls,” she replied.
Her reply had a more troubling connotation, though. “Oh, you old hag …”
She’d been able to see that they were Ghouls. Asa glared at Tsumugi warily, but the woman simply muttered, “Doesn’t make much difference to me either way,” before turning her gaze to Uta. “You don’t usually come all the way out here. Is it about something I made, like the girl says?”
“Yes,” Uta replied.
Tsumugi looked back and forth between the pair of them. “Come in,” she told them, welcoming them inside.
The doorway opened up into a large lobby. Despite the house’s ostentatious appearance from the outside, the interior was rather Spartan. The living room the woman led them to had only the bare minimum of furnishings.
“Now, what’s all this about, then?” Tsumugi asked as she sat down on the sofa, facing her visitors.
“Right here … This is one of your masks, right?” Uta asked.
Tsumugi put on a pair of reading glasses and inspected the photo she’d been handed. “Yes, I’m sure of it. This is one of mine. What are you doing with this picture, though?”
“Apparently the police are searching for whoever made this mask.”
“The police?” Tsumugi raised an eyebrow. “Hmph … I see. And so that’s why you’re here.” She nodded in understanding, her body sinking farther into the sofa. “Well, this changes nothing. Now, if you’d be so kind as to not let your silly suspicions run wild.”
Asa didn’t quite know what was going on, but she could tell Uta had come here out of concern for Tsumugi, and to see the older woman rebuff that thoughtfulness ticked Asa right off.
“Hey now, you old bag! I don’t know what your deal is, but Uta came all this way for you. What’s with the attitude?” She rose to her feet threateningly.
But Tsumugi paid Asa no heed, and tossed the photograph back dismissively. “If that’s all, then I’d like you to leave now.”
“Listen, you damn hag, I—”
“It’s all right, Asa.”
Uta’s words cut off any further complaint, but Asa still rankled inwardly, clenching her jaw in frustration. Uta gave her a look before turning his attention back to Tsumugi and broaching a new subject. “Actually, there was one other thing I came for.”
“Yes?”
“I’d like to try decorating my next mask with some embroidery. I’d appreciate it if you’d show me your design sketches and needlework samples. A look at quality work might give me some good ideas.”
Asa blinked at that. She’d had no idea Uta was considering anything of the sort. Tsumugi raised an eyebrow, apparently just as surprised, her gaze wandering about as she seemed to consider it.
Finally, with a disgusted sigh, she replied, “Embroidery wouldn’t suit your disgusting masks.”
Asa trailed a bit behind Uta after they left Tsumugi’s manor. “So you’ve been planning on doing some embroidery?” she asked.
“Yeah. There’ve been some masks that I thought would look good with that sort of thing.”
“So then are you going to be going back to that old lady’s house?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stretch my legs if I wanted her to check my needlework.”
It was rare for Uta to adorn his masks with needlework, but Asa was curious to see what sort of things could be made with that process. She looked back at Tsumugi’s house, and made a decision for herself.
III
The next day, Asa went back alone, steeling herself as she knocked on the manor door. When there came no response, she knocked harder.
This time, Tsumugi’s annoyed visage revealed itself. “Yeah? What do you want?”
“Is Uta there?” Asa asked, poking her head in through the open door to look farther inside.
“Is that Asa? What’s going on?”
“Uta!” she called out, and he looked up at her from the living room as she got his attention. “I, ah, figured I might as well try my hand at some embroidery too! Would it be all right for me to join you?”
In response, Uta said, “You’ll have to ask Tsumugi.”
Apparently s
he wasn’t going to be able to just ignore Tsumugi’s presence. “Hey, old bag. Lemme join in.” She folded her arms, demanding instead of asking, in no mood to kowtow to a human, let alone an old lady like her.
Tsumugi shrugged ambivalently and said, “Don’t make a mess.”
Asa’s face lit up, and she scooted past Tsumugi to make her way over to Uta. He was at a large table in the living room, seemingly looking over Tsumugi’s design sketches, some of which jumped right out at Asa.
These were polished designs, and Asa was so overwhelmed by their beauty that the sight of them stopped her in her tracks.
“Pretty, eh?” Uta murmured.
The words snapped Asa out of her reverie. “Well, yours are even more amazing!” she said on reflex.
“What would an amateur brat like you know?”
Asa turned to look at Tsumugi, sitting on the sofa behind her. “I’m not an amateur!” she snapped, a competitive impulse blazing to the fore.
Tsumugi glared at her. “You’re a mask maker, too?” she asked.
“I am. And here’s proof!” Asa said, reaching into her bag and pulling out one of the masks she’d made, holding it up to show Tsumugi.
Tsumugi narrowed her eyes to look at the mask before snorting out a nasal laugh. “What’s this? Your stitching is loose, and your sense of symmetry is poor. And did you try to stretch out the fabric this much? Look how it’s all warped. You messed up your measurements and then tried to compensate afterward, didn’t you? What a cheap-looking piece of junk.”
“H-hey now, you old bag! My mask making is …” But Asa’s rebuttal didn’t come. Tsumugi’s words had hit too close to home. Instead, she spit out an annoyed, “Just shut up, you hag.”
Ignoring Asa’s angry outburst, Tsumugi scrutinized the mask carefully as she laid out a sheet of paper. She then began to briskly sketch something. Asa tried to get a better look, and saw that Tsumugi was putting together a pattern for Asa’s mask going by sight alone. Moreover, it was a simpler and more refined pattern than the one Asa had used when she’d made the mask herself.
“Whoa, how’d you do that?” Asa picked up the sheet of paper, curious as to how Tsumugi had been able to identify all her mask’s flaws. Tsumugi set her pencil against her chin and turned away with a huff.
“This old hag’s a real pain in the ass, Uta,” Asa said, hoping for some backup, but Uta was engrossed in the design sketches. Ideas were probably blossoming in his mind right now. Tsumugi stood bolt upright to stop the interruption, and she tossed something to Asa.
“Huh?” Asa looked in her hands to see a scrap of cloth. “What’s this for?”
“If you’ve got the time, you can help me with some cutting. I’ll even pay you a small sum.”
Asa’s face contorted in confusion at the sudden proposal. “Huh? Why should I have to work under some old bag like you?”
“What, are you scared that I’ll see that you’re not as good as your dear Uta?” Tsumugi said as Asa was about to toss the scrap of cloth right back at her.
Asa bristled at being called out, but merely snapped back, “Fine, I’ll do it! It might even be fun.”
Several hours later, Asa had grown weary of the boredom and the repeated drudge work. “How come I’ve gotta do like fifty rows of backstitching? What are you even going to use this cloth for, anyway?”
“Your impatience is what makes your work so crude. Now be quiet and work with your hands, not your mouth. I won’t accept sloppy work from you.”
Asa was ready to throw in the towel then and there, but a casual “Hang in there, Asa!” from Uta kept her from bailing. She reminded herself that she was here to see Uta’s workmanship in action, and so she’d find some way to get through this work.
The day wore on until it got dark, and Tsumugi stood up. “That time already, huh …”
“What, you goin’ to bed already? Man, you old folks really do turn in early,” Asa scoffed.
“Fool,” Tsumugi replied. “I’m going to do some shopping.”
Well, at any rate, this meant Asa was free of Tsumugi’s boring busywork now. As that thought was setting in, however, Uta looked up. “Let me go with you,” he said, getting to his feet as well.
“You’re going with her, Uta?”
“Yeah. Could use a breather.”
Well, that changed things a bit. Asa glared over at Tsumugi and called out, “I’m going too then!”
After they got outside, Uta said, “I’ve got a lot to think about, so I’ll walk farther behind.” He then let himself drop back. He probably wanted to flesh out the designs he had in mind. Asa wanted to walk alongside him, but she might wind up distracting him, and so without much other choice, she fell into step alongside Tsumugi.
“So where are we going, old lady?” Asa asked, realizing she didn’t know where they were even heading yet.
“The market district,” Tsumugi replied. “We humans get our food by going out and buying it, unlike your kind.”
That was right: Tsumugi knew Asa was a Ghoul. That being the case, Asa pressed the subject. “How come you’re not scared of us, old lady? You’re not worried about getting eaten?”
“Would you want to eat the flesh of a shriveled old woman? Besides, I’ve been dealing with Ghouls for a long time, starting with Uta.”
“But he might have a change of heart and kill you. You are pretty aggravating, after all.” Asa reached out and threateningly grabbed the old woman’s neck from behind, but Tsumugi simply slapped her hand away.
“I trust Uta,” she said. “It would be uncouth for me to doubt the people he keeps company with.”
The old woman seemed pretty indifferent toward Uta, but apparently they had some foundation of trust in their relationship that Asa couldn’t see. Asa snuck a look back at Uta, then asked Tsumugi, more quietly this time, “Are you and Uta close friends?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I do appreciate his craft, though.”
“I know, right? Uta’s such an incredible mask masker!” Asa was pleased to hear Uta complimented so, her expression suddenly brightening up, but she then hurriedly wiped that look off her face when she remembered she was dealing with Tsumugi.
“You really do look up to him, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Lots of us in the 4th Ward do.”
“I’ll bet.”
Asa continued to hang out with Tsumugi as they made their way through the market district, walking around for roughly two hours. They checked out grocer’s stalls and fishmongers that Asa would never have needed to be anywhere near if she’d been with another Ghoul, which left her feeling groggy.
“I can’t believe you seriously eat grass and fish and stuff,” Asa grumbled as she smelled the odor of fish coming from the kitchen. They were back at Tsumugi’s house now, and Asa had been given the tedious task of covering her cloth with backstitching. “Let things that grow in the dirt stay there and leave things that swim back in the ocean.”
“Still,” Uta pointed out, “A human meal is kind of like a colorful work of art.”
“Why would you want to put art in your mouth?” Asa asked, scrunching up her face at that. “When my food’s got a weird color, I …”
Tsumugi came out with a tray loaded with food. The smell was even stronger now, and Asa unwittingly pinched her nose shut on reflex, but after getting a quick, narrow-eyed glance at Tsumugi’s food, her hand came away from her face. As Uta had said, Tsumugi’s meal came in lovely bowls and piled atop plates, the many bright colors a feast for the eyes. It was an interesting thing to view as art. Once Tsumugi started eating, the sight struck Asa as grotesque and unsettling, but she felt a fresh surge of joy at having learned something new.
And I bet Uta has learned a lot about me that he didn’t know before too.
That thought made her somewhat lonesome. She couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how
she tried to chase after him, she could never catch up.
That night, after Uta had gone back to his shop, Asa was alone in Tsumugi’s living room, continuing to work on her backstitching. Half the reason was that she was determined to actually finish the job, but the other half was that she was starting to find the simple work a little bit fun.
“What? You’re still here?”
The voice made Asa look up. Tsumugi was standing there, dressed for bed.
“You’re the one who told me to do this!” Asa snapped. “So I’m not going until it’s finished!”
Tsumugi said nothing in reply, and instead sat down right next to her on the sofa. She watched Asa for a while, keeping her thoughts to herself, and then got her sewing equipment from the shelf and began some embroidery.
“You don’t need to head back home?” she asked.
“Don’t got one. Selling masks doesn’t bring in a ton of money. For someone like me, it’s basically like being a part-time day laborer.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mother was already gone as far back as I remember. My dad was an idiot and got killed after he picked a fight with some other Ghouls.”
Asa was unconcerned with her own past, and her tone showed it. “I see …” Tsumugi murmured in response before going silent.
That silence continued for a while before Asa found it too stifling. She looked up to see a bit of Tsumugi’s needlework. “What’s that?”
“Oh, this? Keeping my hands active helps me stay sharp.” Tsumugi then unfurled a scarf embroidered in silver.
“Whoa, that’s amazing!” It was somewhat irritating that Tsumugi’s handiwork impressed Asa as much as it did, but she couldn’t quash the emotional response she had. The scarf sported a large ring of flowers with expanding leaves, all of it bordered by a beautiful curving ivy pattern. The needlework reminded Asa of the adorned mask in the photo she’d gotten from the detective.
“So you really did make that mask, huh?” For the first time since coming here, Asa could truly believe that.