So many shoes by the door. Shoes and shoes and shoes. Big shoes and small shoes, expensive shoes and cheap shoes, all in neat little rows. Ayame remembered a song she used to sing as a child:
Lonely little shoes
Sitting by the door
Where's your owner now?
Gone away to war.
Come to think of it, Raiko was the one who'd taught her that song, wasn't he?
"Please don't sing that song anymore, Onii-san! It makes me sad. I don't want you to be a soldier."
"Don't worry, little monkey. I'll come back to you safe and sound. And loaded with presents."
"Ooooh, presents!"
She smiled a little at the memory that a promise of gifts had made it so much easier to let him go at the time. If only there were a present to ease the separation this time, but there wouldn't be any more presents. It was hard to remember now what he'd given her back then when he'd returned. He'd never stuck around for long. There had always been more promises and more goodbyes.
Lonely little shoes...
She was glad there were so many shoes; so many people had come to her brother's funeral. Many of the soldiers, and of course, her friends. It wouldn't occur to her until later that some had probably only come to make sure he was dead.
"Thank you for coming, Sensei."
"I'm very sorry for your loss, Ayame-chan."
Hasumi-sensei. Rosalie-chan. Haruka-san. Sugino-sama. Muu-chan. Ichinomiya-sensei. Yoko-san. Mind the honorifics. Must be polite, just like her big brother had always taught her.
"Ayame-san, if there's anything I can do, please feel free to call me."
"Thank you, Ichinomiya-sensei. And thank you for coming."
She was especially glad that Kantaro had come so he could see with his own eyes that Haruka was safe now. You won't have to worry about your monster anymore, now that my monster is dead. There were monsters and monsters, weren't there? Funny, she'd always wanted to see the monsters again, but they'd been right in front of her all along and she'd simply ignored them, hadn't she?
Like Ibaragi. And Watanabe. From the moment Raiko had brought them home, they'd been visible to her; introduced to her like old friends. She had no idea where he'd met them; he'd never told her anything about his personal business—another reason it was so shocking that it had ended like this.
Those who live by the sword, die by the sword.
The sword wasn't here, but strangely she had the feeling Raiko would want it present. Did her brother have any regrets? Another reason she was glad Ichinomiya was here: if he were needed to put Raiko to rest. Despite all the things he'd done, she didn't want her brother to suffer in the Shadow World.
"We're ready to begin," the priest told her, and she followed him into the other room where Raiko was laid out like a god on a tiered altar covered with roses. The monks had done a good job on his face; it was difficult to see just how viciously the sword had butchered him. Doji-giri—Monster-Cutter—was nowhere in the house, but otherwise Raiko was decked out as Ayame had always known him—as a soldier rather than in the traditional white kimono and headband. Just to be safe she'd placed a funerary kimono inside the casket, though, along with the traditional leggings, sandals, headband with a triangle in the center, and six coins for Raiko to pay the toll across the River of the Three Hells. She didn't want to risk her brother wandering alone and lost in the afterlife due to an omission on her part.
The guests filed into the room and bowed before the dead man, rang the altar bell, and offered incense and prayers; then the priest read a sutra and small gifts were given to each of the guests. It was a perfect ceremony. In accordance with custom, Ayame sat up all night with the deceased and tried to remember all the good times spent with her big brother, but it always came back to that. That last fight. When all the cutting had happened. When she'd stumbled upon her brother trying to kill Haruka.
It was evil, but there was more to him than that. Wasn't there more to everyone than just goodness and light? He used to bring her candies and ramune. Toys and trinkets and trips to the big city. There was nothing she could ask for that he wouldn't give her. He'd been the best brother in the world. He hadn't deserved this ending.
Didn't deserve to be cut to shreds by his own sword. The others, perhaps. The monster Ibaragi and that satanic Watanabe. That foreign priest, whatever his name was...they deserved their fate, but not her brother. He didn't deserve to die with them, not like that.
Not like that. He didn't deserve...
He didn't...
...didn't...
Yes. Oh, hell. Yes, he did. Every good memory was tainted by the revelation of...of...
...of those trophies.
All those yokai...
All those...
...and Haruka. He'd been planning to stuff Haruka just like that, hadn't he? One more trophy for his collection. But she knew Haruka. He was cold and distant, but charming in his own way. A good man, just like Ichinomiya. Just like Hasumi-sensei and Sugino-sama. All good men, but every one of them had a touch of evil. Every one of them...
No, her brother was different, wasn't he? She knew that now. Her brother was a monster. And Dojigiri was a monster cutter.
"Onii-san! What's happening, Ichinomiya-sensei?! It's killing him!"
"Dojigiri has been possessed by a demon. It was forged for a noble purpose—to destroy evil, but Raiko has been using it to kill the innocent just to satisfy his ego."
"What?!"
"The blade was first named 'Dojigiri' after Minamoto Yorimitsu used it to subdue a demon who was terrorizing villagers on Mt. Oe centuries ago, but the sword was never meant to be used for murdering innocent yokai. It was never meant for killing Haruka or any other guiltless monster. Your brother has shamed Dojigiri by using it to commit so many sins. Rin...Pyo...Toh...Sha..."
"Please hurry, Sensei!"
So many sins. How had he kept them from her for so long?
"Kai...Jin...Retsu...Zai..."
No. She knew. It was the same reason she couldn't see the monsters anymore, wasn't it?
"Zen! Om abokya beiroshano maka bodara maman handoma jimbaku harabaritanya hum!"
The monsters were still there, but she simply ignored anything that didn't fit into her naive, childlike world—a world where her brother was the god who kept her from being all alone and an orphan. She simply focused on the things that reinforced her narrow worldview, and refused to see anything that might reveal the uncomfortable truth.
"Begone, o raging spirit!"
For an instant, Ayame wondered just where Dojigiri was at this moment, but Kantaro had surely put it somewhere safe. It was no longer a threat anyhow, but she didn't want it around. Didn't want to be reminded of how her brother had looked sliced to ribbons and bleeding to death before her eyes. There was no way she'd ever be able to forgive the sword for killing her brother like that, even if it had been possessed at the time.
Ironically, if Kantaro sold it he'd have enough money to live in high style from now on. That would certainly make Yoko happy, but somehow Ayame knew he'd never do that. He'd probably just give the money to her—the poor orphan.
The poor orphan. Only she was a rich orphan. Raiko had seen to that. No, there was no such thing. Even though she'd never have to worry about money, she still felt poor and alone. This thought kept her awake that night, and the next day she nearly fell asleep on her feet while following the hearse to the temple.
"Ayame-chan? Are you all right?"
"Huh?"
"Are you all right? Let me help you."
Hasumi took her arm and helped her into the temple, where the coffin was placed on an impressive altar with a wooden plaque inscribed with Raiko's new name, chosen by the priest to keep the dead from returning every time his real name was mentioned.
"Th-thank you, Sensei."
Another sutra, more incense, more obeisance, and the casket was taken to the crematorium where it was placed on the sliding tray in the oven. The mortician announced the time when the body would be ready, but she wasn't really paying attention.
How could Onii-san do this to her? She shouldn't be left here all alone, the last of her family, forced to organize a funeral at her age. She should be following Hasumi to a reported case of paranormal activity, listening to his explanation of why it wasn't really the kitchen yokai it appeared to be, but was actually the wind, or a mouse, or one of a hundred other perfectly ordinary things.
"3:00."
Hm...? Ayame looked up to find Kantaro and Yoko staring at her, while Haruka picked some lint off his sleeve, apparently bored. Had they been talking to her? "I'm sorry, Ichinomiya-sensei. What did you say?"
"I said '3:00.' The mortician says the body will be ready at 3:00. If you like, Haruka and I will return and help you fill the urn."
"Oh. Thank you. Yes, I..."
What was she about to say? She couldn't remember. Lately, thoughts flitted away from her like fireflies escaping a poorly covered jar. Fill the urn? Oh, yes. The mortician would give them chopsticks and they'd pick through Raiko's bones, placing them in an expensive urn she'd purchased to...to...
...to hold what was left of her brother. This was all that was left of Raiko. He would never again take her to a moving picture show, or buy her ramune or pretty rings. All that was left of his body would spend eternity in an urn, while his soul spent eternity in that place Ichinomiya seemed to glimpse nearly every day. It was a pity her brother hadn't appreciated Kantaro for what he was. They could have been such good friends. They had the monsters in common.
The monsters...
Except that Ichinomiya's were good, and Raiko's were evil. Unlike her, at least they could both see the monsters. Both could see the world as it really was.
There was a time when she'd envied them; regretted losing her ability to see things as they really were. She'd once told Kantaro she hoped to see the monsters again, but she was wrong.
She didn't want to see monsters anymore.