pixiv: The Spirit Horse Blade 1/4 http://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=7031421
0. The Coffee Shop
I turn my back on the door that reads "Hattori Investigation Agency" and walk down the narrow staircase. Shisho’s head bobs in front of me. She’s slightly hunched, her hands shoved into her pockets, walking with the heavy step of someone who expects nothing pleasant. We reach the ground floor and step outside the multi-tenant building. Right next to it is the entrance to a coffee shop called Boston. "Want to grab a bite?" Shisho murmurs. "Yeah." When I push the door open, a modest chime rings out. The interior of the coffee shop is softly lit, feeling dim to eyes adjusted to convenience stores and family restaurants. "Welcome," calls out the master from behind the counter, a mustache resting right beneath his nose. "Well now, it's been a while. Let me see... not since you came in wearing *that*, was it?" The master gestures as if tying the strings of a straw raincoat under his chin and smiles. Shisho scratches her head, mutters "Evening," and takes a seat in the corner of the counter. I bow to the master with a "Hello" and sit right next to her. It’s a coffee shop that’s come up several times in the stories Shisho has told me. When I first visited, Kyosuke-san was working part-time here. To harass him, Shisho had staged a bizarre stunt, walking all the way here in the pouring rain while wearing a traditional straw raincoat. But instead of marching in and demanding that someone take her soaking wet straw coat off her right away—which is what you’d expect—she had just stood silently by the entrance with a strangely gloomy vibe, looking for all the world like a mendicant monk. Moreover, when Kyosuke-san scolded her, she hadn't talked back at all, just slunk off home crestfallen. Back then, I didn't know what this coffee shop meant to Shisho, so I could only tilt my head in confusion. That was already over a year ago. "What can I get you?" There are no other customers in the shop. No other staff besides the master, either. "Do you still have the maple toast?" Shisho asks. The master looks apologetic, bowing his head. "Sorry. We don't make that anymore. You used to order it all the time, too." "I see." Shisho orders a sandwich and coffee. I order the same. As the master slices into the sandwich with a knife, he speaks up casually. "I was surprised back then, but it also made me feel kind of excited." He places a paper filter into the dripper and adds freshly ground coffee beans. Pouring just a little hot water, he waits for cracks to form on the surface of the puffed-up coffee grounds before pouring the rest in a smooth, circular motion. "Seeing you standing at the entrance wearing that straw raincoat... it just brought it all back." "Sorry to keep you waiting," he says, setting the sandwiches and coffee on the table. While wiping a circle on the counter with a cloth, he glances toward the wall. Following his gaze, I see a few modest picture frames displayed there. One of them features Kyosuke-san. It’s a photo of three people standing side by side in front of the counter: Kyosuke-san in a waitress apron, the master, and an intellectual-looking man with glasses. That man was the director of the Hattori Investigation Agency, whom I met just a few minutes ago. Kyosuke-san and the master are wearing professional service smiles, but Hattori-san isn't smiling at all. Yet, the way his elbow rests casually on the counter gives off an air of relaxation, which somehow feels surprising. "Back then, everything was so chaotic. The shop almost got wrecked, and I went through stomach medicine like it was nothing. But they say time heals all wounds... It just brought back memories. The moment a weirdo dressed in a straw raincoat walked in, I found myself thinking, *Ah, she's back*..." The master laughs, looking somewhat embarrassed. "She," in this context, probably isn't referring to Shisho. Since she isn't someone who was ever coming back, he's laughing to hide his shyness. Shisho says nothing, staring intently at the wall. Ahead of her line of sight is another photograph. Just like the picture of Kyosuke-san, several people are lined up in front of the counter. On the far right is the man with glasses—Hattori-san. His expression is predictably unchanged, though he looks a little younger than he does now. On the far left is a woman in a waitress uniform. She’s wearing a white hair clip and has a refreshing smile. That’s probably Hikari-san, a part-time staff member from those days. Right next to her stands Shisho. She’s young. Her eyes aren't as dead as they are now. She’s staring straight ahead. Next to Hattori-san is a tired-looking man in a rumpled suit with messy hair. He’s wearing a wry, knowing smile, with a hand touching his collar as if trying to straighten a crooked tie. He was the director of the Ogawa Investigation Agency, the predecessor to the Hattori Investigation Agency. Nowadays, while serving as the director of a major private detective agency called Takaya General Research, he spends his busy days as the owner of the Hattori Investigation Agency. In the photo, he has a somewhat twisted, childish aura about him. The master in the photo stands behind the counter looking much like he does now, though with slightly more hair. His eyes look weary, as if he’s carrying a mountain of worries. "How many years ago was that now? It's a good photo, isn't it?" Noticing where we are looking, the master speaks up. Amidst the rising, gentle aroma of coffee, Shisho and I stare silently at the photograph. A good photo, huh? The other frames show previous regulars and part-time workers posing with the master. But that single picture is somehow different from the rest. The composition is the same. Nobody is wearing anything outlandish. So what on earth makes it different? There’s no need to puzzle over it. You can tell at a glance. This is a good photograph. Right in the middle of the picture, someone is smiling with a thumbs-up. Even though I’m seeing them for the first time, I feel like I've known them all along. Just having that person there makes everything seem to glow. And within that glow lies the entirety of Shisho's youth. Just looking at it makes the center of my chest feel heavy and painful. I look down and reach for my coffee cup. Shisho keeps her eyes fixed on it, refusing to look away. Staring at that beautiful curse, shining on without ever fading.
1. The General Store
This is a story I heard from Shisho. It was the summer of my second year in university. That day, I was manning my part-time post at the Ogawa Investigation Agency from morning onwards. I’d been asked to organize some documents, and a client was scheduled to arrive after noon. The client had specifically requested Kanako-san, my senior part-time coworker and my master in the occult arts. Which meant, in the parlance of the private investigation industry, this was one of those strange cases referred to by the slang term "Ghost." Originally, the word was used to mean a "elusive" or "unattainable" dead-end case. But as Kanako-san demonstrated her unique ability to solve these "GHOST" cases, more and more jobs of that nature began pouring into this tiny detective agency. Director Ogawa often grumbled about the influx of "GHOST" cases, yet firmly turned down attempts to poach her—notably by Takaya-san, the famous director of the large-scale "Takaya General Research" where Ogawa had once worked. As for Kanako-san herself, she always said, "I'd rather work somewhere laid-back." Right now, that very Kanako Shisho is leaning far back in her office chair, messing with the person sitting across from her—Hattori, our other part-time worker. "Hey, did you know? That face of Hattori-kun from *Ninja Hattori-kun* is actually a mask. Ninjas never expose their real faces to people." This piece of trivia is launched at my back while I’m busy cutting out articles marked with a highlighter from a stack of newspapers filling a cardboard box, sorting them by topic. It’s something I've heard her say many times before. *Ribbit.* *Ribbit.* A toy frog with a rubber hose attached to its rear is repeatedly leaping toward Hattori. Naturally, the other end of the hose is in Shisho's hand. That frog, if I recall correctly, was supposed to be something Ninja Hattori-kun hated. It’s childish harassment. Hattori, for his part, completely ignores Shisho's torment and methodically types away on the word processor. On days like today when the director is out, they often resort to giving each other the silent treatment, but when Shisho is in a good mood, she likes to carry out these little campaigns of teasing Hattori. It’s a genuinely troublesome mood she gets into. "Besides. What's your codename?" "......Sakamoto, isn't it?" What is it this time? Codename? Well, more like a fake name for work. Given the nature of the detective agency, we sometimes brush against the edges of illegal activities, so the part-timers are issued business cards bearing aliases. "You're 'Sakamoto,' I'm 'Nakaoka,' and Natsuo, who used to be here, was 'Takechi.' The three of us are the Tosa Loyalist Party." Ryoma Sakamoto, Shintaro Nakaoka, Hanpeita Takechi. They are indeed famous patriotic activists from the Tosa domain during the late Edo period. "And yet, this guy is 'Hattori'! Hattori, for crying out loud! The first Hattori Hanzo was a famous head of the Iga ninja, but later on, in the Bakumatsu period, there was the 12th Hattori Hanzo Masayoshi, who was a chief retainer of the Kuwana domain. The Kuwana domain was fiercely pro-shogunate, right alongside the Aizu domain! They were the ones who suppressed the loyalist patriots! What gives?!" Shisho bangs her desk with a loud *thud*. Without even stopping his typing, Hattori offers a single, deadpan retort: "Because it's my real name." "See, this is what I mean. He has no concept of workplace harmony." Even when she looks to me for agreement, I’m at a loss for how to respond. Frankly, she's a nuisance. The only one not working right now is Shisho herself. "I intend to make a living in this world," Hattori says. His words carry a sharp, thorny nuance of rejection—implying that he is different from university students like us who are just doing a casual part-time gig. "Tch." Shisho clicks her tongue, leans back in her chair, and casually throws her legs up onto the desk. The sight of her thighs stretching out from her hot pants is dazzling, making my heart race. "In that case, why don't you go start the 'Hattori Investigation Agency'?" To Shisho's sarcastic jab, Hattori replies, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger: "When I do, I want you." *Ribbit.* *Ribbit.* The frog keeps hopping. Taken aback by those words, Shisho sits there in dumbfounded silence. Figuring that must feel pretty humiliating, I try to throw her a lifeline: "You're quite the heartbreaker." "L-Let's go get some grub." Shisho stands up and shoves me in the ribs. "W-Wait a second. I'm almost done here." Hustled along, I shove the newly organized files into the bookshelf and hurry after Shisho. As we walk down the stairs, I stare at Shisho's back, making a mental note that being so straightforward in unexpected situations might actually be an effective tactic. "Morning," I say, pushing open the door to the coffee shop "Boston" on the first floor of the same multi-tenant building. Despite it being lunchtime, there's only one other customer. As usual, it's desolate. "Welcome," the bearded master says, folding the newspaper he'd been spreading across the counter. "Maple toast, a salad, and an omurice. And two blend coffees." Ordering for the two of us, we take our usual two-seater table. Shisho picks up a women's magazine lying on the adjacent seat. "That bastard," she mutters, clicking her tongue as she glares at the magazine. She must still be thoroughly ticked off by that exchange earlier. "Is Ogawa-san coming?" Hikari-san, the waitress, asks as she places our orders on the table a little while later. "He's out right now, but he might show up later," I reply, reaching for the maple toast. Hattori practically never comes to Boston even when invited, but the rest of the Ogawa Investigation Agency crew are valued regulars at this coffee shop. The master turns on the television. It’s time for the noon news. Eating some remarkably delicious maple toast while watching the TV, by the time we finish, it’s switched over to local news. It reports that medieval ruins have been discovered in the eastern part of the city. The master, who had been watching the TV from the side with his arms crossed, loses interest and retreats toward the kitchen. On the screen, a tanned man in his fifties wearing work clothes excitedly chatters away, constantly smoothing down his side-parted hair as if to double-check that it’s actually parted on the right side. *“This is believed to be the burial site of military horses from the Heian period.”* Behind him, a massive pile of excavated bones is shown being dug up. *“Some horse tack remains as well. This is said to be the site of a camp for the retainers of a provincial governor at the time, and this is what's known as a horse mound—where deceased warhorses were buried together in one place. We’ve also found iron swords buried alongside them like this.”* A discolored sword, freshly dug out of the earth, rests on a tray atop a blue tarp. *“It’s a talisman for the repose of souls. You often see them in human graves, but almost never in horse mounds. I think this constitutes extremely valuable material.”* The news switches to a wide shot of the excavation site. Finally, the anchor reports that the land is owned by the city's urban development corporation and was slated to become the relocation site for a municipal athletic field, but this discovery will likely force a change in plans. The moment the commercial break starts, Shisho pushes her empty omurice plate aside and speaks to Hikari-san. "Change the channel." "Huh?" Hikari-san complies, using the remote to flip channels. Every station is just wrapping up its noon news. Shisho scratches underneath her left eye. "Broadcasting crap like that over public airwaves..." she mutters unhappily while watching a daytime drama start up on the screen. "What do you mean by 'crap'?" Shisho doesn't answer my question, instead sipping her coffee with an unpleasant look on her face. When Shisho has an expression like this, she won't give you a straight answer. Putting on airs is, more often than not, tied to the occult. *(She really is a grand detective,)* I think, rolling the irony around in my mouth. But I didn't dislike that about her. Having finished our lunch, we head back up to the Ogawa Investigation Agency on the third floor. We have an appointment with a client at 1:00 PM. Shortly after, Director Ogawa returns from his outing. After giving Hattori a few instructions, the director glances at the wall clock. It’s about ten minutes to one. "Do you think he'll be on time?" Judging by the way he’s pressing his right hand against his stomach, he apparently wants to go to Boston. "You can go grab a bite if you want. I can listen to what the client has to say in the meantime," Shisho is about to suggest. That's when it happens. Suddenly, a chill runs through my body. *Something is coming.* It feels like a concentrated bad premonition has mixed into my bloodstream and started circulating through my entire body. *Clatter.* Shisho springs up from the chair she'd been slouching in, moving in a fraction of a second. Hattori and Director Ogawa simply look on in bewilderment, alternating their gazes between the entrance door, the window on the opposite side, and the faces of Shisho and me. Me and Shisho! We're the only ones reacting. *That* kind of thing is coming. And moreover... My body trembles. This is no joke. A terrifying malice... no, a concentrated mass of ill intent is closing in on us. "Whoa—" I instinctively step back, feeling as though pitch-black smoke is spilling out from the gaps in the door and walls. My breathing accelerates. "What is it?" Director Ogawa notices our abnormality and places a hand on Shisho's shoulder. *Thump. Thump.* Footsteps are coming up from downstairs. The footsteps echo loudly in this rundown building. It's coming. "Get back," Shisho says sharply, bracing herself facing the entrance door. Refusing to follow the instruction, Director Ogawa steps up right beside her. Hattori stares expressionless toward the door while keeping his hands on the word processor keys. Only I step back one step—no, two. The floor squeaks sharply. The footsteps stop right in front of the Ogawa Investigation Agency on the third floor. The sound of a knock. "Come in," Director Ogawa calls out from where he is, not approaching the door. The doorknob turns, and the door opens. I realize Shisho is lowering her center of gravity, preparing for the unexpected. "Ah, hello there. Am I a bit early?" Appearing in the doorway is a chubby middle-aged man. He’s wearing a striped shirt and a blue summer jacket with slacks underneath. His hair is cropped short, with noticeable gray strands. Looks aside, he's dressed somewhat fashionably. *No.* The moment I lay eyes on him, I know. That black, hazy presence slips away and distances itself smoothly. Shisho rushes up to the man and asks, "Did you come here with someone?" "Eh? No, I'm by myself." The man looks bewildered, holding up a single index finger. "Excuse me." Shisho slips past the man and bolts out the door. Hesitating for a fraction of a second, I give chase. "What on earth is this about?" Leaving the man's words behind my back, I dash down the stairs. Fast. I can't see Shisho anymore. Stumbling down the stairs at full speed, I burst out of the building to see Shisho running a short distance away to the right. "You take that way!" Shisho yells over her shoulder, pointing in the opposite direction. The multi-tenant building housing the Ogawa Investigation Agency is located on a side street slightly removed from the bustling shopping district, so foot traffic is sparse even during the day. I run off to the left anyway. I peer into the faces of passing pedestrians, but I don't sense any trace of *it*. If anything, people just look at me suspiciously. Eventually, I turn a few street corners, loop all the way around while looking every which way, and return to the starting building. "Did they get away?" Shisho is already standing in front of the building. She dropped by Boston to ask the master if he’d seen anything weird, but he just shook his head. "G-Got away, or rather..." I trail off, at a loss for words. My legs are still shaking. Honestly, even while I was searching, part of me was hoping I wouldn't find anything. It makes me feel like maybe *we* were the ones who got let off the hook. "What was that, anyway?" "I don't know." Shisho has already caught her breath. I'm still panting. "I think it was human, but something's wrong with it. It's different from that little kitten the other day." *Little kitten?* Is she talking about those high school girls we met during the incident with the hair mixed into the wind? That's apparently what she called them. "Was that... even human?" To me, it felt as though an unimaginably terrifying evil spirit was closing in. Shisho wears a thoughtful look for a moment, then says, "Let's go meet the client," and steps into the building. Returning to the office, the client is sitting on the reception sofa, talking with the director. "Ah, you're back." "Sorry about that. All of a sudden—" Just as we both bow our heads to the man, Shisho immediately raises her face. "By the way, do you recall anyone following you?" "Following me?" The client looks utterly blank.
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The client introduces himself as Masato Ogata. He says he runs a shop dealing in imported general merchandise from overseas, primarily Taiwan and Southeast Asia. His store seems to be located toward the northern end of the covered shopping arcade. None of the members of the Ogawa Investigation Agency had ever been there. Recently, Mr. Ogata says, strange things have been happening one after another at his shop.
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