And so, taking Shion—who had been out shopping for dinner—with her, Inari returned ho. Looking up at the low-rise apartnt building standing in the upscale residential district, Shion let out a small, impressed “Ooh.”
“This place is expensive.”
“So it seems. Doth Shion live nearby?”
“Yeah. Not here, but pretty close.”
“I see, I see. So thou art a neighbor after all.”
Inari let Shion inside and urged her to sit where she liked, but when she moved into the kitchen, Shion followed along without hesitation.
“What is it? Thou may wait, thou knowest?”
“You’re about to cook, right? I’ll help.”
“Mm. The rice is already done, so all that remains is to make rice balls… or dost thou prefer furikake rice instead?”
“You really like rice, don’t you?”
“I adore it.”
“I see…”
Watching Inari’s pure, beaming smile, Shion nodded and began forming rice balls alongside her. The fillings were pickled plum, salmon, and of course the plain salted kind that must never be forgotten. Furikake rice balls, too, were Inari’s favorite.
Thus, with rice balls, miso soup, and pickles, a simple yet blissful dinner ca together. Taking a bite, Shion exclaid:
“Oh, this is good.”
“Of course it is. At Akabane, a pro selected the rice for .”
“It tastes expensive…”
“Shion, thou didst say thou wert buying dinner at the supermarket. Dost thou not cook for thyself?”
“I don’t. I mostly eat out. I’m too busy.”
Indeed, living alone and often busy, Shion rarely cooked. At ho, als usually amounted to little more than nibbling on bread. In terms of diet, she was even more unbalanced than Inari. That was why eating freshly made rice balls brought her a nostalgic feeling—one she hadn’t experienced since childhood.
Looking at Shion, Inari gave a grandmotherly nod.
“So young, and yet already burdened with hardship…”
But to Shion, it was Inari—the one constantly in the spotlight, accomplishing so much—who seed the busier of the two.
“I’ve heard you’ve been busy lately too, Inari.”
“Nay, not so much. Why, today I spent the whole afternoon leisurely playing with children.”
“They must really like you.”
“Hahaha. If that be so, then I am gladdened.”
After sipping her miso soup, Inari raised her voice again.
“By the way, thou didst say busy. Was it work upon the rivers and sea?”
“Yeah. Sea work. Lately, there’s been so weird ghost stories going around.”
“Ghost stories…?”
At those words, Inari twitched. Only recently, she had dealt with just such a thing. There was no way “that” could have survived, but it was entirely possible sothing of the sa kind existed. What unsettled her most was the word “lately.” That implied such things had not been active—or had not existed—before. Why were they stirring now? The reason was unclear.
“They say a hand cos up from the sea to drag people under. The ships make it back fine, so it’s probably just rumors… but people still get scared.”
“Hmm. And hath this dragging hand actually appeared?”
“No. Just rumors.”
“Aye… an urban legend, then.”
“Yeah.”
If nothing had appeared, then indeed it was likely no more than a rumor. No one had gone missing, and no account of the tale had been reproduced. Just a rumor. Just that. There was nothing to be concerned about—at least in theory. And yet… sothing gnawed at Inari.
Noticing, Shion leaned forward, peering closely at her face.
“Sothing bothering you?”
“Mm. There was a little incident before… and I wonder if this might be connected.”
“You an Toshima?”
“Eh? Thou knowest of it?”
“I do. Since I work at sea a lot, news like that reaches first.”
Indeed, for soone like Shion—tight-lipped, capable, and a rare awakened fighter specializing in underwater combat—it made sense. The Awakener Association would want to avoid losing her in a disaster like Toshima at all costs. With Japan surrounded by sea, losing Shion was not an option.
“I heard there were a ton of monsters from Saitama Dungeon No. 4 there.”
“Mm. I defeated those that dwelt on Toshima… but that may not have been all of them.”
The mystery of the tatari-gami still remained. Could there have been a mastermind behind it all? The thought naturally ca to Inari’s mind, and listening to Shion only brought her closer to conviction.
“Soone sought to create a tatari-gami… If so, why? For what purpose would anyone make such a thing? What gain could there be in it?”
There should have been none. A tatari-gami was, by its nature, evil. Especially one forged from death, built upon accumulated grudges. No one could have intended to enshrine such a thing as a guardian spirit. No good could ever be born from such a thod.
“It’s fine.”
“Mm?”
“I’m strong. If anything happens, I’ll smash it.”
And indeed, in raw combat ability, Shion was formidable. Inari knew as much, having fought beside her. Of the awakener she had t, Shion was easily among the top—worthy of her rank as Japan’s fourth.
So Inari smiled, sliding the plate of rice balls toward her.
“Mm, mm. Indeed. Co, eat more. A young one must eat heartily.”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
That night, every last rice ball they had made vanished into Inari’s and Shion’s stomachs. With her belly full, Shion soon dozed off on the sofa. Smiling gently, Inari draped a blanket over her.
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