Chapter 100

2. The Kindling God

Akitsu never showed up all day. Katagishi laughed, saying, "Skipping work without notice during training? What a promising rookie."

On the way home, I deliberately walked through the bustling shopping street. The soft glow of red lanterns from the bars melted into the night, and students passing through the bus rotary laughed with bookstore bags in one hand.

No matter what was happening beneath the surface, this place alone seemed peaceful.

I arrived at my apartment building and climbed the stairs. A bug hit the flickering, almost-dead fluorescent light. I suddenly stopped and looked back at the path I had just taken. Muddy footprints trailed up the stairs. The black, smudged marks continued behind my heels.

I took off my shoes and checked the soles. They were worn, but not dirty. A burnt smell lingered in the stairwell. I thought the marks weren't mud, but soot.

The next morning, I couldn't shake the feeling until I went to work. It felt like the smell of soot had seeped into my nose.

I forced myself to stay calm and visited the archive. Between the steel bookshelves were the same members from yesterday, along with unfamiliar men and women. Miwasaki noticed me and waved.

They seemed to be the two people Kirima had mentioned yesterday, who were assigned by the Ministry of Divine Affairs to investigate.

A pale-skinned, androgynous man with a loop tie gave a polite bow.

"I'm Fukagawa. I used to be in the Cultural Promotion Division, but I've been around about as long as Katagishi."

The tall woman beside him laughed cheerfully. Three piercings lined her earlobe, partly hidden by her hair.

"I'm Sumida, a former occult magazine journalist. I wrote all kinds of nonsense for the magazine, but I'm doing proper investigations now, so don't worry!"

I returned the greeting. The atmosphere was friendly, but I felt like the smell of soot was getting stronger from somewhere.

Fukagawa pulled documents from his briefcase.

"I'll start. There's something that caught my attention while looking into the connection between the Ministry of Divine Affairs and Territorial Divine Offenses. This is an entry log for a certain location within the ministry, but..."

Rokuhara interrupted.

"What location?"

"Officially, it's labeled as the archive, but I think it's something else. The date and time on this entry log almost exactly match the date of an investigation where discrepancies were found in the records on Territorial Divine Offenses."

"So, the records were altered here. Or perhaps something else besides the records was changed..."

"Honestly, I still don't believe there's a god who can alter history. But more importantly, there's something else that bothers me. Look at this."

Fukagawa flipped through the pages and stopped at the last one. I let out a gasp when I saw the name his slender finger pointed to. The entry log listed Kirima Renjirou.

"Why would Kirima..."

"If we take this record as evidence, then he's also involved with the Ministry of Divine Affairs and the alteration of records."

I struggled to form words through my confused thoughts.

"That can't be. Then why would he ask Miwasaki and the others to investigate?"

"Maybe he's trying to trap them."

"A trap..."

"Some of the people he assigned to investigate have gone missing. Some have vanished along with the records. I don't completely trust Kirima."

As I stood speechless, Fukagawa shook his head coldly. The lukewarm air in the archive seemed to drop rapidly in temperature.

Miwasaki muttered like he was talking to himself.

"Then maybe the one in the heart of Tokyo is a different god."

"What do you mean?"

"Kirima already has a handle on the god connected to the Ministry of Divine Affairs. On top of that, I think he's discovered another dangerous god and wants us to investigate it."

"That's a bit far-fetched."

Fukagawa fell silent with a dissatisfied look, fiddling with the cameo on his loop tie.

Sumida let out a surprised gasp.

"Maybe this could be a clue."

What she pulled from her bag was a crumpled piece of paper. A copy of a clipping from an old magazine. The bold headline read "Sequel: Strange! The Flame Man Lurking in Tokyo," in an old-fashioned font.

Katagishi let out a dry laugh.

"Sumida, what is this?"

"It was published by the magazine company I worked for as a writer. An occult magazine called 'Terrible Japan.' It went out of print twenty years ago, but it's been revived now as 'Wonder Terrible Japan.' This article is from the old version."

"That name went from bad to worse."

"'Terrible Japan' barely exists now, but Kirima had this clipping. Even in trashy articles, there might be hidden info about Territorial Divine Offenses."

Sumida spread out the clipping for us to see.

At first glance, it looked like a typical occult magazine feature, but it contained detailed research into ancient and modern religions and folk beliefs.

According to the article, a mysterious being called the Flame Man had been sighted in Tokyo at the time.

The part discussing the connection between the Tokyo Air Raids and urban legends closely resembled the kind of analysis we were doing on Territorial Divine Offenses.

Miwasaki exclaimed in admiration.

"You really did your homework. Is there any way to contact this writer?"

Sumida shook her head.

"I checked both with the magazine company and on my end, but there's no trace of them. Back then, compliance was lax, so missing journalists weren't unusual."

Katagishi read the name of the writer at the end of the article with a troubled look.

"Reizei..."

"Katagishi, do you know something?"

"No, it's nothing."

Katagishi didn't say anything more.

Fukagawa muttered, still looking unconvinced.

"I feel uneasy using an occult magazine article as a clue."

"Oh? Are you picking a fight?"

"I'm not talking about you, Sumida. I just think it's premature to treat this as evidence of Territorial Divine Offenses."

Rokuhara interjected calmly.

"I don't think so. As the article says, fire and gods are closely linked. In Japanese mythology, the god of fire caused the death of Izanami, who gave birth to many gods. Her death led to her husband Izanagi's descent to the underworld, the origin of life and death, and the concept of impurity. It wouldn't be surprising if a powerful Territorial Divine Offense was lurking in Tokyo's core."

"Who knows. The real issue is the disappearance of those investigating this god. Whether it was divine or human in cause. If we go deeper, what we should fear the most is that."

I hesitated a moment, then spoke.

"I know a researcher with an excellent memory who might have a complete record of Territorial Divine Offenses. I could try asking her subtly without revealing everything."

"Go ahead, if you trust her."

Fukagawa shrugged. Katagishi let out a big sigh and rolled his shoulders.

"Stop picking fights. Well then, time to resume the search for Akitsu. I'll grab a smoke while I'm at it."

When Katagishi and I reached the smoking area, Sumida appeared.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead."

The three of us stood around the ashtray with the glass window behind us. Sumida smiled as she smoked a heavy-tar cigarette from abroad.

"Sorry about Fukagawa being so on edge. One of the missing investigators was close to him. That's why he's harsh to people connected to Kirima. Even though Miyaki has nothing to do with it."

"No, I understand how he feels."

"When I got that clipping from Kirima, I asked him a bit. He seemed to know something about the journalist Reizei. In the end, he didn't tell me, but somehow, I don't think he's hiding anything bad."

"I think so too. Kirima looks like he's suffering, wanting to keep us out of danger but also needing to investigate."

"I'm glad. It's good that someone understands him."

She brushed back her hair. The three piercings glinted dully.

Sumida checked her watch.

"Oh no, I have to submit the report. See you!"

She tossed the half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and dashed off in a hurry.

"She's a whirlwind," Katagishi said with a wry smile. I tried to return the smile—and froze.

On the wall and window glass where Sumida had been leaning, a human-shaped black stain was left behind.

As if a burned corpse had just been lying there.