Chapter 5.6

(Monzen, Sakaimatsu---Matsuo, Shizuka)

With the CD headphones blaring in his ears, Natsuno sat atop his bed whittling the wood. Natsuno didn't have anybody he knew in Monzen. No matter how many times he tried to reconsider, he didn't have any memory of the name Matsuo Shizuka. Much less of a grade school girl called such. He couldn't come up with any reason at all for her to come visit.

("Her big brother" huh...)

A girl with the name Matsuo Shizuka apparently said "my big brother will be coming later." Natsuno somehow had the feeling that that "big brother" of hers would be the man he encountered at Motohashi Tsuruko's gravesite. It was possible. If he was one of them, there would be proof that Natsuno was aware of a major secret.

Based on the kind of child Matsuo Shizuka was, he thought it was fairly clear what her role was. Saying she had some business with Natsuno, she asked to be let to wait. With that, she had an invitation into the house. And then Shizuka got an invitation for her "big brother" too.

The only light was from the lamp and the CD player. The room light was turned off, the reason the lamp lit the room, was in order to better feel the surrounding darkness, because he needed to feel like he was the only one suspended uneasily within the sea of darkness.

Within the low light, he shaved down five centimeters of wood, joining together ten centimeters of crosswire. So then, would this actually be any use?

(It's a matter of faith.)

That's how it went in stories, he thought. No matter how many crosses you use, if you don't have faith it won't be any use. ---But Natsuno to begin with didn't have faith aligned with any sect or denomination. For now all he had were the juzu beads given to him by his parents on the day of Megumi's funeral, he didn't have anything else beyond a few paper charms.

Should I hole up at Tamotsu's place after all? he thought. But But now that a child had come to call on him specifically targeting him, he had the feeling he couldn't get Tamotsu tangled up in all this. And besides, he thought. The Mutou family already had a victim. That house probably isn't closed to them anymore. Then that was all the more reason that he couldn't rely on Tamotsu and expose him to any further danger.

While thinking that, he put the two planks together and wrapped them with wire. It was better to have it than not to. Right now it was no safer for Natsuno than being outside. While they lurked outside the walls for the time being he didn't know what kind of things his opponents actually were, so he couldn't feel safe inside.

The thing was that his hands still remembered the sensation. The feedback from hitting the man ("Big brother"...). That was the distinct feel of contacting a corporeal body. He didn't think they could become smoke and seep in through the walls or just phase through them, not with such an unimaginably, unforgivingly real sensation. Thinking of that, the walls and the windowpanes may have served as a barrier after all. A lock might have some worth after all, he realized. The problem was that he couldn't by any means close every aperture in the house.

The window had a crescent lock but there was no lock to Natsuno's room. For the time being he forced the top board of a kotatsu under the door handle, but he didn't know how useful that would be. He locked up the entryway. Same with the workshop's door. But as expected he couldn't lock up his parent's bedroom windows. Ever since moving to this village, his parents abandoned the custom of locking anything. The back door, several windows, all of them were distinctly unlocked.

[TN: Kotatsu - A table with a heater beneath it and a futon or blanket over the top of it to keep the heat in. Often another table plank is placed over the blanket to serve as a hard table top for writing, eating, or whatever other typical uses one may have for a table. In the olden days it was often set over a charcoal pit though in the modern era an electric heater is generally attached to the table itself. It's cheaper than heating the entire home. A diagram of two types of kotatsu, new and old, from Wikimedia Commons.]

Come tomorrow he had to find a way to lock them he had just thought when there was a light knock at his window, causing Natsuno to start. Faint---and restrained, the sound of a fingertip tapping.

He did not fear terror. He came, was all he thought. That said, of course he didn't plan to answer the knock nor to open the window. Natsuno peered towards the curtain, remaining sitting stiffly on his bed. If he continued to ignore it, what would the enemy try next, he wondered absently.

The seconds passed with the sound of the knocking coming many times, continuing insistently. When he continued to ignore it, there was the sound of someone trying to open the window from the outside. The window shook a few times lightly, confirming that it wouldn't open, then the noise stopped. Footsteps clearly trying to sneak about left the window.

Natsuno breathed a light sigh. And then this time he listened for sounds within the house. Was there no sound of the backdoor opening, were there no footsteps in the hallway? Without ever hearing those sounds, again the sounds of footsteps sneaking to the window returned. There was a hesitant knock on the window glass. ---And then the sound of footsteps again. They were leaving the yard, and this time he could hear the back door opening. He didn't actually hear the sound of the door opening but somewhere a door was opening, but there was definitely the sound of the furniture and the walls wavering with the air that flowed in with the open door.

Listening with everything he had, Natsuno tried to sound out where that presence was in the house. Being an older house it creaked considerably. The halls were no exception but he couldn't hear any footsteps coming down the hallway. Instead he heard footsteps coming to the rear yard again. ---Whatever the case, it seemed like they didn't have the gall to try sneaking in through the back door.

Again the knock came. Natsuno kept his back against the wall, keeping his breath down and ignoring it. And then a voice came. Natsuno stepped away from the wall. It was very low, a hushed voice, calling 'Natsuno.' He couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl's voice. Whispering, as if to conceal themselves, but it could clearly be heard if one listened for it.

---Natsuno.

The quiet voice came from outside the window. For a moment Natsuno thought that it was Tamotsu. It felt like somebody he was close with calling his name. And nobody came to mind who called his name that way aside from Tamotsu.

Natsuno eventually got out of the bed. Maybe sensing that Natsuno had stood up, the quiet knocking ceased.

"....Who's there?" he asked lowly, a voice answering, stiffled, it's me. That voice definitely had a familiarity to it. It wasn't someone he'd just known by seeing a few times, it was somebody Natsuno knew well.

Natsuno opened the curtain. The window's glass was like a dark mirror. The lamp's light reflected the low lit room. And in the vague double exposure of the image, he could see the darkness outside. The grove of trees that lined up until just near the wall.

Somewhat white appeared within his vision. That was unmistakably a man's hand, knocking beneath the glass. Somebody was bent down beneath the glass. When he pressed his forehead to the glass and looked down, indeed he could see a part of a person's body.

Natsuno tightened his grip on the cross in his hand. With the enemy crouched down beneath the window, he didn't have any plans of letting go of it. If they knew him, why were they hiding? If it were really Tamotsu, he'd be standing up right away and hurrying him to open up, right? Something uneasy stirred in his chest. Something was lodged in his throat, feeling like it would stop him up and silence him, something he couldn't give voice to. Some thought, gloomy and dark was hazily coiling up, taking form.

The knocking hand. A very normal hand, one that would probably feel warm and tender if touched. One finger reached up and tapped the glass.

"...I said who is it?"

It's me, said the muffled voice. Natsuno at last reached out his hand and undid the crescent lock. There was a whispering in his chest saying he mustn't do that. At the same time, he realized he was making a grave mistake. Standing there alone, protecting himself, wasn't he forgetting something that was too important to be forgotten? Something that he could almost but not quite see. If he opened that window, he had a hunch it would be solidified, that 'something.'

With a click the lock was undone. At the same time the the hand drew back. Whoever was outside wasn't standing up. With the hand not holding the cross, Natsuno opened the window.

Just as he put his hand on the window's edge, about to call out to ask who it was his wrist was grabbed. The one who was outside of the window in a struggle between the power to pull that hand off and the power to pull Natsuno out was half standing, and then released Natsuno's hand in order to cover their face with both arms.

For an instant, Natsuno was stupefied.

The one outside of the window turned their face away and with no concern for their appearance fled the backyard.

His wrist had been grabbed. That touch was like ice. In that instant before he covered his face, the lamp's light caught that face.

"...Tohru-chan..."

Reflexively, Natsuno turned his body away. Taking the plank from the door, he left the room. Running down the hall to the back door, it was faintly opened. He stepped into the shoes there and flew out into the back yard.

Outside was teeming with the sound of the wind and the stillness of the night. A dense night dyed in darkness.

He followed in the direction the fleeing figure had run in. That was it, he thought.

Death was spreading. Death came to those touched by the Oni, and then they rose. If it was them who took Tohru away, then of course it wasn't impossible for Tohru to be reborn too. Natsuno had been trying to remember that. ---No, he was trying not to remember it.

He didn't want to think that. He didn't want to believe it. It was fine if it were Megumi or anybody else at all but Tohru was the one it absolutely couldn't have been.

Taking off running towards the front of the house, he came to the road with no signs of people there. There was a light on in front of the entryway shining over the various shrubs showing only the front garden and low hedges. At the same level on the low fence gate was a faint opening, now wavering.

He pulled it open, stepping out onto the road and looking left and right. The road was dark, barely lit at all by the street lamps, disappearing into the inky darkness in both directions. There was no sign of anybody where his eyes could see, nor could he hear any footsteps. All that resounded was the wind and the sounds of the trees swayed by the night breeze.

Natsuno looked back and forth countless times until his shoulders and his breath could settle. Discouraged by seeing no signs of anything, he took a breath.

---Tohru was.

The death spreading through the village had had to be stopped, normalcy had had to be restored. While he had known that it would be a difficult, puzzling matter, he had been certain that it could be done. He hadn't yet been able to see how to even start, but somehow if even one opening was found it could have been done. While Natsuno once felt that, at the exact moment he felt it was absolutely impossible.

Nobody could stop this. Right now they had advanced to the point of no return. He couldn't explain why he thought that but as the sensation in his hands returned, it was confirmed.

(...What should I do?)

What should he do? What should he do, how should he be? Something like impatience rose up. It paired together splendidly with his despair.

Feeling despondent, Natsuno turned back. Closing the gates, coming near the entryway, he remembered that he himself had been the one to lock it. Lamenting how foolish an act it had been, he headed to the back yard with a sigh. At least it seemed he'd done this much without waking his parents.

Discouraged and rebuking himself, Natsuno went back around to the back yard, not noticing the figure hiding in the trees behind him. Nor did he notice as they soundlessly snuck out from them, nor did he notice as both of their hands reached out to him.

The collar of his pajamas was nabbed and he was pulled down. Although the figure supporting his back from behind and stopping his movements seemed gentle, the arms wrapped around him to restrain him, the hand over his mouth, the face he caught a peek of were cold enough to be felt piercing into his very core.