The Boy Who Could Be Seen (5)

"Inuyama! Why hasn't the food for table six been served yet?"

"Coming right up!"

"Hey, Inuyama, go hurry the kitchen along. The customer at table twenty-one has been waiting a long time."

"Yes!"

In the bustling and popular Chinese restaurant "Shanwai Lou," Inuyama Heita was so busy he could barely catch his breath. Even so, he didn't complain or slack off. While the pay was only average, it was settled daily, and the people at the restaurant were great. After learning about his situation, every day after work, the kitchen would use leftover ingredients to make simple, delicious home-style dishes and rice for him to take home. He could just heat them up in the microwave and eat them. This made Inuyama Heita, who was used to cheap bento boxes and bread, feel a long-lost, tear-jerking sense of "happiness."

A few days after visiting Qian Xiaoyi, Inuyama Heita went to the Lingkong Exorcism Office again, bringing some Japanese sweets bought with his own salary as a gift. Although Qian Xiaoyi seemed bothered by his greetings and took the gift with an annoyed air before rudely shutting him out, Inuyama Heita was still very grateful to him.

Thanks to Qian Xiaoyi's guidance, Inuyama Heita could now basically distinguish between spirits and normal people and could ignore them. His life seemed to be getting back on track, heading in a positive direction.

That is, until a small incident occurred a few days later.

One evening, after finishing his shift, Inuyama Heita was rushing towards the station, carrying the still-warm food packed by the kitchen, trying to catch the last train home. While taking a shortcut through a residential alley, he suddenly heard an argument. Turning his head, he saw three people arguing at the entrance of a house. It seemed to be a mother and daughter, with the daughter desperately trying to stop her mother.

"Mom, don't give money to that strange person! You've already donated so many things from home."

"Let go, your mother's business doesn't concern you."

In this city, the deeply ingrained social custom of "not troubling others" actually had another meaning: "not wanting others to trouble oneself." Here, no one, not even neighbors, would interfere in such domestic affairs. At most, they would secretly gossip the next day, then coldly ostracize and make sarcastic remarks, much like the silent bullying in schools. Inuyama Heita, as a passerby, naturally wouldn't get involved. However, upon hearing one of the voices, he stopped in his tracks because he recognized the voice. It belonged to a classmate.

Inuyama Heita tried not to attract attention as he looked from the corner at the two parties arguing. He saw that the inconspicuous girl wearing glasses was indeed someone he knew. The girl's name was Suzuki. They had hardly interacted in class; one would rush off to work after school, and the other was a nobody. Apart from being good at one or two subjects, this girl had nothing special about her.

Unexpectedly seeing a familiar face, Inuyama Heita couldn't help but linger at the corner. The curly-haired middle-aged woman at the door was likely Suzuki's mother. The third person present was a man in a black suit with slicked-back hair and a face full of fake smiles. He spoke with feigned politeness, "Your daughter seems to have some prejudice against our Lucky Mutual Aid Society, madam. You should know that our society is not some low-quality religious group that forces donations from believers, so it's perfectly fine even if you don't donate to us..."

"No, Mr. Matsui, please, you must take this money," the woman said fearfully. "Don't listen to my daughter's nonsense. Since I've become a member of the society, I naturally want to contribute my strength as much as possible. Please take it. I understand the greatness of the society; please don't abandon me." She pleaded desperately, trying to shove a thick envelope into the hands of the man named Matsui, but Suzuki held her mother back tightly.

As the mother and daughter were in a stalemate, Matsui sighed and said, "I understand, Ms. Suzuki. I will continue to share good fortune with you. However, before that, I will let your daughter feel our power as well. I'd like to check her fortune. You don't have any objections to me doing this, do you?"

The woman's eyes lit up at this. She turned to Suzuki and said, "See? Did you hear that? Mr. Matsui wants to check your fortune. This is a rare opportunity that only a few people in the society can enjoy."

Suzuki looked at the woman in front of her as if she didn't recognize her and asked with some fear, "Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Don't worry, it's just a small check," Matsui said, reaching his hand towards Suzuki. She took a step back in fear. This time, her mother grabbed her, and their positions reversed. However, the man named Matsui didn't touch Suzuki. He stopped his hand about an inch in front of her, maintaining that posture with his hand held out before her.

"What... what are you doing?" Suzuki asked, her eyes wide with confusion.

"Don't speak," Matsui said. "It'll be ready soon."

Although she didn't know what he was doing, Suzuki could clearly feel a strange premonition that "something was about to happen." The air around them seemed to grow much colder, raising goosebumps on her skin.

"That's it!" Inuyama Heita, hiding in the corner, widened his eyes. Unlike the mother and daughter, who couldn't see anything, he clearly saw a pale infant slowly crawling towards Suzuki along the outstretched arm of the man in the suit. Its tiny fingers were about to touch Suzuki's bewildered, wide-open eyes.

Pretend I didn't see it? Turn around and leave?

This was Inuyama Heita's most instinctive thought. After spending so much time in Tokyo, he had gradually adopted the indifference of Tokyoites. Facing something like this, his first consideration was naturally self-preservation. Moreover, ordinary people couldn't see this situation. If he rushed forward rashly, he would definitely be considered crazy. He still had to catch the train; if he missed it, it would be terrible.

Torn, Inuyama Heita tried to convince himself with various excuses not to meddle in other people's business, instinctively wanting to take a detour and leave. But the moment he turned around, a buried memory flashed through his mind. The warmth of the food in his hands seemed to warm his cold blood. Inuyama Heita didn't know why he did it, but he gritted his teeth and rushed towards them, carrying the plastic bag.

Just as the infant was about to touch Suzuki, the man in the suit, Matsui, felt something bump into him. The pale infant seemed startled, crawled back onto Matsui, and glared at the perpetrator with malice.

"Sorry, sorry!" Inuyama Heita said nonchalantly, pretending not to see. "I was in a hurry to catch the train and wasn't paying attention. So... Huh? Isn't that Suzuki-san? What are you doing here?" he asked with a surprised expression.

"I... I live here..." Suzuki, unaware she had narrowly escaped, asked back, "Why... why are you here, Inuyama-kun?"

"I'm working nearby," Inuyama said, looking at the man in the suit and frowning. "Who is this guy? He doesn't look like a good person. Do you need me to call the police?"

The woman warned, "And who are you? Our family's business doesn't concern you!"

At this, Matsui took two steps back. Although he still had a smiling face, his eyes were incredibly cold. He smiled and said, "It seems you're not very lucky right now. Then, we'll see each other at the next gathering, Ms. Suzuki, and Miss Suzuki." With that, he turned and left.

"Wait, Mr. Matsui!" The woman tried to rush after him but was pulled back by her daughter. Suzuki turned to Inuyama Heita with a sigh of relief and said, "Thank you, Suzuki-kun... but we don't need to call the police here. If you need to catch the train, you should hurry, or you'll be late."

"I understand. Then I'll be going. Excuse me." Inuyama Heita bowed slightly and quickly fled the scene, his legs still trembling from the fright.

After Inuyama Heita left, Matsui emerged from the corner of the alley and muttered to himself, "Hmm, it seems he can see you? It looks like I was quite lucky to come out this time..."