Chapter 1
"Get out!"
Those two words rang out louder than any word he had ever spoken to me.
"Get out, get out!"
The way his voice trembled, the pitch uneven with every repetition, made it sound more like a monstrous yowl.
"Get out… I won't stand this anymore! You've brought enough shame to our family. Enduring it for this long… that should be considered a compassion!"
These words grated into my ears as they bounced up and around the walls of the hallway. The hallway had always seemed long before, decorated with statues and varnished with lacquered wood from one end to the next, but in this moment it seemed to stretch on for eternity, each passing second only noted by the jab of his nails against the skin of my wrist and the pungent sting of his sweat as he grew more agitated. His grip was burned into my arm as much as it was my memory.
Sweat, noise, breath, pain, all of it was released in a single moment as the door swung open and sunlight burst inside, my father tossing me outside. He brought his hands to his breast, adjusting his white kimono as if I'd rubbed dust onto it just by being near him.
"You… you are no longer a daughter of Yanagihara… you have disgraced us for the last time." He grumbled all of this at me, or to someone, because he never once met me with his eyes, which smouldered with a loudening disdain.
"Get out. I never want to see you again. You are not my daughter."
As he slunk back inside, I caught a glimpse of his pupil rolling toward me, like someone ensuring what they had thrown away had been properly disposed of. I scanned his eyes for any sign of a tear, my palms rough with dirt as I lifted myself from the ground. There was a glint, something vaguely sad or wet, there, I couldn't tell, I could have imagined it, but as I saw it, his mouth moved into a whisper, the final thing I heard before he closed the door. It was so quiet that it could have been an illusion, the muttering of a spirit, any of the supposed ancestral spirits that he had claimed I might anger. It could have been all of them together, mustering just enough strength to tell me one final thing:
"I wish you were never born."
Once the door slammed closed, and the reverberation left to the wood faded away, there was silence again for the first time. All that remained was the whimsical gusts of directionless wind that filtered in and out of the willow trees that lined the entranceway, catching and tossing their doleful leaves like children in the park.
I stood up and dusted myself off. The revelation that my father might, in any way, regret the day I was born, came as no surprise to me the more I considered it. It was something I had on my mind since the day I was born. My mother, the enigmatic Madonna that she was, gave birth to five perfectly healthy, fresh-faced babies before me, my older… ex-older sisters, every one of them female. So it came as a sort of let down when I popped out one day, yet another girl, and my mother, that once apparently powerful and refined woman, dropped dead. Six was too much for her. My father, in fact, my whole family, saw it as some sort of omen, but did their best to raise me without bias anyway. Which, naturally, was an impossible task for a superstitious Shinto family. The fact that my father had found me with 'erotic material' today after coming home from an all-nighter trip to Akihabara was just the straw that broke the camel's back. I was mostly downtrodden at how he managed to catch me on my very first attempt.
After I'd lent that memory as much time as I thought worthy, my mind drifted to other things. I no longer had a place to live, no bed to wake up to tomorrow and… my shoes. My shoes were still at school. I couldn't leave them there. They were my shoes.
The walk to school was harder on me than usual, if not simply for the fact that I'd been thrown out of the house with only socks on my feet, debris, plants and dirt getting caught in the fibres with each step. When I reached the gate, since it was long past when the school had closed in the evening, I had to clamber over it, so I hooked my legs over the metal bars and shifted my body, contorting my torso to avoid the sharp metal at the top. Once I'd landed on the other side, I made my way toward the entrance. They were so close. My shoes.
I was within metres of the shoe rack when an abnormal smell hooked into my nostrils. A kind of tart, savoury flavour that was being drowned with a sharp sweetness, flowing in from the distance further inside. All of this was reminding my stomach that I hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast, and it released a petulant grumble. I wanted to grab my shoes and leave, but I had no idea when or where my next meal would be, and to some extent I wanted it to be somewhere familiar if I had the chance. Fine, stomach, I see how it is. We can eat the weird, mysterious school food if you want.
I snuck toward the back room of the canteen, through the lifeless hallways, the muffled echoes of my footsteps causing me to flinch each time I moved forward any further. Once I determined the source of the smell, I cracked open the door and crept inside through the gap.
On a lone plate sat atop a grey table was… what… what is that? Two slices of white bread piled on top of each other, but almost all of the semblance of bread had been doused by condiments. The makeshift sandwich was drenched in a mixture of jams and honey, slapped together with such a lack of balance that they spilled out of the edges and soaked the bread to the point of disintegration.
Pinching the corner in my fingers, I lifted it from the plate, the sodden bread sagging and drooping as I did. My eyebrows crinkled in trained disgust, an expression that had etched into it centuries of Yanagihara pretentiousness. I relaxed again at acknowledging that. There was no more high-quality food left for me now. No well-stocked pantry, no servants, no specially selected produce. I spun the abomination around the plate and gulped. This was it, if I wanted to survive, this was the best it could get. I took another corner in my hand and crouched down toward the plate, wary of the dribbles of syrupy liquid that glooped onto the edge of the plate. I eyed it one more time in curiosity now that it was level with me, my fingers already sticky in a way that I had never felt to the point the sensation was indescribable, like putting them into five hundred lollipop wrappers simultaneously then swimming in a bath of tar. I shut my eyes, opened my mouth, and went in for a bite.
Before I could begin to process what sort of soggy entity I was about to consume, a voice brought me to a halt.
"Reika? Is that… you? R-Reika…"
My eyes flew open, and I saw someone standing in the doorway, half hidden. Her tone was one of curiosity, almost relief at first, but soon plummeted into a sort of unexpected disappointment. I had no way of knowing what I looked like to them at that moment, but I had an idea of the grotesque monster, lips laden with honey and jam, cheeks inflated, that had given her such a reaction. I instinctively swallowed the bite I'd taken, which slithered down my throat as I began to talk.
"Hmmf?"
The overwhelming sweetness made me beg for something, anything bitter. I'd never been more desperate for a coffee in my life.
"Reika, it is you. What are you doing here? And… uh, why are you eating my snack?"
My crumb-stuck face was flabbergasted by this.
"That… that was yours…?" I went to my pocket for a handkerchief, but there was nothing there.
"Y-Yes…"
"...You're not supposed to be here either, are you?"
"...Well, no, but-"
"Okay, then in that case, we shouldn't speak a word of this to anyone."
I nodded, splattering little chunks of jam bread onto the table, which I reacted to with a flawed attempt at cleaning it up with my fingers. She nodded in response too, still awe-struck somewhat.
"...Understood. Although, I'd never expect you to break the school rules like this."
"Yeah, well… neither did I," I responded, reluctantly wiping the remnants of honey from the corners of my mouth, "So, what are you here for?"
At my question, she clumsily went to conceal a weapon behind her back.
"Devil hunting, huh…" I mumbled.
"H-How did you know?"
"I'd rather not get into it. Unless you have any other reasons you want to admit to entering a school at night with a weapon?"
She shrunk after that, but, building herself back up, she moved the weapon in front of her, grasping it in both hands.
"I heard reports. I couldn't sit by knowing that our school might be under threat by a devil. If I left it until morning, and everyone showed up to school the next day… oh, Reika, you have to help me! I can't do this on my own. I don't know anything about devil hunting."
"What about the weapon then?"
"Just a sledge hammer from my dad's tool shed."
"...He's probably worried where you are. Shouldn't you go home?"
"I…I can't. Besides. You're here too. Why aren't you at home?"
I let her question sit in my head for a while. I gave it so much time that it even had a moment to pull up an armchair, grab a newspaper, and pour itself a drink. Before the question had any time to get drunk from my mental liquor, a rumbling sound shattered down the hallway.
"T-That must be it…" she quivered. She held the hammer close to her chest. At the sound, I stood up straight and walked briskly out toward the entrance again.
"You're running away? Reika, please, I can't do this alone!" she shouted after me.
"No, not running away," I said, reaching the shoe rack. I opened my locker and reached inside, pulling out my pair of pristine, white uwabaki. "I need these."
"Your shoes…?"
"Yes. My shoes," I replied bluntly, slipping them onto my feet and giving them a wiggle to dislodge all the grit that had now been pushed inside.
"So… you are going?"
"Neither of us stand a chance against that devil. We should just inform Public Safety about it. They'd know far better how to deal with it than two school kids. There's no point risking it."
"B-But… if I… if I…"
"Hm?"
Her entire body was jittering and shaking, the hammer weighing her down and swinging like a pendulum lightly between her legs.
"If I defeat the devil… then maybe those girls will stop bullying me. Maybe they'll stop calling me things like 'four-eyes' or 'the bookworm devil'. Maybe… I can actually walk into school, past this shoe rack right here, and finally look up at them, at the school, and see the place that I come to every day. If the devil destroys it, if the devil kills any of them… then there won't be a chance for me."
I chuckled nervously. "Come on, that's sill-"
"I'm not going! I'm not going home!" She gripped the handle hard enough to make the veins in her fingers pop. "I don't want it… I'm staying here. Go home if you want. But I'm not going. I came here to do something for myself for once, for the first time in my life. You probably don't need that. Top scores, rich family, one of the most beautiful girls in class… you wouldn't understand. This is the only chance I have."
She turned to me, tears welling in her eyes, which had grown wide and supple.
"And… if I die, tell them. Tell them Ino Sasaki stayed and fought to the death."
To the death…
A tremendous roar echoed down the building as the devil approached, its thunderous carriage cracking and smashing windows in sequence, scattering shards of broken glass across the floor. Flitters, glimpses of the oncoming creature came to view as the evening sun peering through the windows was snatched by what looked like a white sheen around its body. The closer it approached, the more this sheen seemed to shiver and rustle, revealing itself to be a shaggy outer coat that resembled hundreds of giant strips of paper that moved like a sea creature. These living strips all originated from a single point on what could be described as a head, but the devil had no face, eyes or mouth to speak of. Visible underneath the darting movements of its capricious outer layer, which began to plaster along the walls around it, was a threatening black miasma. Its appearance was like that of a tsukumogami.
Seeing the devil had brought Sasaki to her knees, she was barely keeping herself upright by jamming the head of the hammer into the ground, which thudded as she fell. Her ankles trembled further as the writhing mass unleashed a sizzling sound like burning rope in an abyssal cavern. A voice.
"You… have sinned."
Soon, every wall, ceiling and floor in front of us was encased in its thin, papery limbs. The dark aura that made up its internal body sucked everything into a voided blackness, with only a thin, piercing sliver of light at its centre.
"Humanity cannot run from its sins, they attach to your soul like slimy black chains. I can see them. I must exterminate all those humans that are contaminated by the filth of sin. For I am born from its fear. I am the Sin Devil."
I noticed that Sasaki was looking toward me, her forehead plastered with sweat, her teeth clenched, but I did nothing but stand there, frozen, arms spread wide, my foot even lifting up, ready to take a step back.
"You…" the rasp of the devil repeated. It curled its tendrils behind me, covering the door and the entranceway. Sasaki, however, stood up, staggering onto her feet again.
"R-Right. I remember. There's no way out. No… way back. I have to commit to this decision."
She awkwardly lifted the hammer over her shoulder with both arms, preparing herself.
"Sasaki…"
"Reika, don't call me that. You're my classmate. Call me Ino. If I'm going to die anyway, at least call me Ino." The words were forced out through a pulsating gap in her throat.
The crunch of concrete rang out as she slammed the hammer against one of the trails, which was squished under the weight. However, more came to its defense, wrapping around the hammer. Cramming her foot against the wall for support, she was able to pull it free, tottering afterwards as she lost her balance.
"I've got this. I've got this. I've got this…" she muttered to herself. "I'm doing good, right, Reika?"
Before I could reply, the devil rushed forward toward us. Darkness approaching, its jaws swept in to swallow Sasaki. In that moment, she dropped her hammer, and slumped her arms. I wondered if I really had planned to tell any of her classmates what she did today, or if I would never return to this school and continue living my life, letting this moment pass by like any other. But by now, I'd already invested far too much thought into it. Despite wanting nothing to do with this devil, I had been analysing its movements subconsciously, its physiology. No matter how many of its limbs it used to move or attack us, some would always remain close to its main body. As if…
None of this thinking occurred in the two seconds it took to descend on Sasaki. All that happened was my shoe being removed from my foot, and swung with a force never before levied by my hand directly into the white light still flickering at the Sin Devil's centre.
My mind was swimming. But all I wanted to do was let Sasaki know this one thing:
"You're not going to die. Not on my watch. Not today."
The devil began spurting thick purple blood from the light, which had now shattered and bruised, dropping the room into near-darkness. As my eyes began to adjust, all that I could see was each of its limbs thrashing toward me, rapidly coming to its defense. I fought each of them off, batting them away, but they overwhelmed me, wrapping my arms, my legs, constricting my neck, and finally closing around my face. Submerged in darkness, the devil dragged my head back.
"Happy birthday, Reika."
His smile welcomed me. He so rarely smiled, but that day she couldn't hide the pride that spewed from his brow as he handed me that box. At the time, I shared his smile, reflecting it back at him. Receiving a present from him was like a treasure. Slipping off the lid, inside was a pair of white uwabaki, soft-tongued and hard-soled, its feathery texture putting all the other pairs at school to shame. At least, that's what he told me, my innocent five-year-old ears drinking it up eagerly. Looking back on it now, they were no different than the others. They were the same style, shape, colour and scent as all the indoor footwear that sat in the lockers or encased the feet of my classmates.
My father gave them to me not long after he'd forgiven me through gritted teeth for breaking one of the family vases, but only after I had proved to him that I had made up for my violation by cleaning my room, attending to guests and staying quiet or speaking with the utmost respect whenever he was working for two weeks. But, there were some breakages he could never forgive me for. No matter how much of a good daughter I tried to be, no matter how many times my father wanted to purify me, what I'd taken away from him when I was born would always outweigh it. It was telling, then, that the only gifts he gave me was one to satisfy his own ego, to push me further into obedience. A pair of clean, ready-made uwabaki for my birthday every year, the same design, just a size larger. And they were all I had left from him.
The Sin Devil continued to extract this from me. It presented warped images of my mother's lifeless body, ravaged by blight and pestilence. I could see myself… looking at her. At it. I felt my body squirm, but it was as if the sensation were detached from me, inside someone else, and I was only being allowed to experience it second-hand.
What… what do I do, Father? I wanted to call out to him so badly. What do I do now? I only have you to go on. You and my sisters. Do I follow them? Would they know what to do here? Oh… please. You said it would be so easy if I just listened to what you said. So what do I do now!? Where do I go!?
My cheeks were wet, my tears had nowhere else to go. But then, I felt the wetness start to disappear as the layers flattened against me were peeled away. Once my ears were free, I heard grunting.
"Nngh… Reika, are you alright? I can't let you die either. So stay with me."
Sasaki's shadow appeared to me like images on a film reel. Half her body was also being contorted by the white tendrils, but she broke free of them; with her teeth, fingers, crushed under her elbow. Her entire body refused it.
My vision now more adjusted to the dark, I glanced down at my hand. The shoe was dirtied, no, practically drenched, in the devilish purple blood. The tongue had caved in on itself, and the toe was dented beyond repair. The Sin Devil snagged Sasaki's leg and tossed her aside.
"You… hmm… you have sinned. There is no purity for you here. I will consume you and all will be cleansed. Give yourself up to me, human" It rasped as it appeared to redirect its attention toward me, its limbs flailing wildly.
I gripped the shoe in my hand, the blood trickling down my wrist.
"Maybe I did want to be free of it. Maybe I did want to be clean of the guilt that was plaguing me. But dying here wouldn't solve anything. And besides… I made a promise to Sasaki. I'm going to live. I'll be free my own way. And I won't accept you digging around in my memories," I growled, producing a noise I never thought I could. "I won't take no lip… from no fuckin' devil!."
I leapt at the devil, brandishing my mangled shoe. It tried again, many times, to grab me, to hold me back, but I kicked and punched, knocking it away. I stared directly into that broken white light and struck it, over and over and over and over.
"Foolish… disgusting… sinner of a human," it sputtered through mouthfuls of viscera. "I will… not… let you kill me. I refuse… to die… to such an impure…-"
"I don't care! I don't care! Shut up!" I shouted in between hits. The shoe in my hand had long since turned into a mixture of devil guts and mushed, rubbery material balled in my fist, until the two were barely distinguishable from one another. I continued to thump the bloody shoe scraps into the devil until my senses came back to me, and the devil had gone silent and still.
The clod of shoe fell from my hand and splattered onto the floor, and soon after, so did I, collapsing into the messy array of entrails on the floor. Each of my breaths crackled through my lungs, and pure fear spilled from my tear ducts. I had no idea what I'd done. But I'd done it. I'd… done it.
A short time later, there was a racket that roused me from my sleep. I rolled back over and grumbled, tightening my sheets around my arm and snuggling myself for warmth. Just a few more minutes…
"Get up."
I turned to face the source of the grisled voice, and flinched at the brightness of day. As the world began to reclaim me, my bedsheets were revealed to be rotting devil skin, the remnants of the Sin Devil's white limbs. I scampered back with a jolt, tossing them off me.
Above me was a guy dressed in a white shirt and dark grey trench coat, who hunched over me.
"Boy, this is a damn mess. Don't tell me you're responsible for this."
My first reaction was to tell him no, or to apologise. But something else came out instead.
"Yes. That was me."