Yoshiko's home was a little two-story house facing the street. A few pots of flowers whose names he didn't know stood out front, blooming in a messy jumble. They weren't pretty, but they looked lively.
When Yan Si knocked on the door with the little girl in his arms, a woman who looked to be in her twenties answered.
She wasn't pretty or ugly, just gentle-looking, wearing a floral apron with flour still on her hands. She was probably cooking.
"Good afternoon, ma'am."
Yan Si greeted her and pointed at the child in his arms.
"This little bra-pfft, forget that. Your daughter was playing hide-and-seek and ran into that unfinished building. Yes, that run-down wreck with the absolutely disgusting restaurant nearby. That one."
"She... um, accidentally fell and cut her neck on some broken glass, but she's fine."
Ordinary people couldn't see cursed spirits. There was no point telling her.
Yan Si's eyes curved into a smile as he made his request. "Your kid's been naughty, ma'am. Give her a beating."
Yoshiko froze. Following his finger, she looked at the little girl in Yan Si's arms, remembered that unfinished building, and went white.
"Kasumi!"
Yoshiko hurriedly took her daughter, desperate to see where she'd been hurt.
She checked the little girl from head to toe. When her fingers reached the gauze on her neck, tears spilled out all at once, falling in fat drops onto the girl's shoulders.
"Mommy should have watched you... this is Mommy's fault..."
Her voice shook terribly. She wrapped the little girl in her arms and buried her face in that soft, aqua-blue hair, her shoulders trembling.
The little girl had stopped crying, but her eyes reddened again when her mother held her like that. Her small hands clutched Yoshiko's apron as she whispered, "Mommy."
Yan Si stood in the doorway with his arms folded.
His face was expressionless.
He watched Yoshiko kneel on the floor, enclosing her daughter in her arms as though she were protecting the most precious thing in the world.
Her tears flowed endlessly as she repeated the same few words of self-blame, her voice so soft it seemed she feared frightening the child in her arms.
A parent's love for their child.
Yan Si looked away.
He didn't much care to watch this.
He leaned against the doorframe, lowered his eyes, and stared at the dust on the toes of his shoes.
The images drifting through his mind wouldn't fit over the scene before him.
He remembered his mother.
His mother would never hold him like that. She only threw things at him or swept her eyes over him like he was garbage, saying, "Why aren't you dead yet?"
Sometimes she tried to make it happen herself.
His father was the same.
They made a good match, really. A pair of lunatics.
So whenever he saw someone else's child treated like this.
Whenever he saw other children cradled so carefully in loving hands.
Whenever he saw other parents say, "It's my fault," in trembling voices.
Yan Si always felt an indescribable sense of disconnect.
As though they didn't live in the same world.
He stood outside the window, like a stray cat someone kicked every now and then.
Inside, the pedigreed house cats had canned food and scratching posts. Their fur was soft, and people held them and stroked their heads.
It was a beautiful, tender scene, but when a stray like him reached out, all he touched was cold glass.
A strange feeling. Impossible to put into words.
Yoshiko cried for quite a while before she recovered. She wiped her tears with her sleeve, settled her daughter on the couch, then stood and gave Yan Si a solemn ninety-degree bow.
"I'm truly sorry for putting you to so much trouble."
Her voice was still thick from crying, but her tone was utterly earnest.
"Thank you for bringing Kasumi home. Truly, thank you so much."
Yan Si folded his arms, looking languid. "It's fine. No big deal."
"How about giving her a beating?"
The little girl: ?!
Thinking Yan Si was joking, Yoshiko smiled and shook her head.
Yan Si: visibly disappointed.
Yan Si was still a little unhappy. "You really won't give her a beating so she remembers the lesson?"
Hearing him keep joking, Yoshiko smiled along, though she didn't understand what was funny.
She straightened and said, "Please wait a moment."
She hurried into the kitchen and brought out a plastic container filled with freshly fried tempura, its golden coating crisp and still steaming.
Looking a little embarrassed, she pressed the container into Yan Si's hands. "It's nothing special... I made it myself. If you don't mind-"
Yan Si didn't mind. He wasn't a picky eater.
Of course, he didn't eat shit, either.
That restaurant earlier today had been so awful it tested the limits of human endurance.
As he'd said before.
That pig had died for nothing.
He took the container, opened it, and picked up a piece with his fingers, popping it straight into his mouth.
The batter crunched between his teeth. The shrimp inside was still hot, its fresh sweetness bursting across his tongue.
"Not bad," he mumbled around his mouthful, reaching for a second piece.
Seeing him enjoy the food, Yoshiko smiled in apparent relief, then turned and led the little girl huddled on the couch over to him.
"Kasumi, say thank you to the nice young man."
Kasumi Miwa: ?
The little girl jerked her head up, her round eyes widening even further, as though she'd just heard something that overturned her entire worldview.
She stared at Yan Si.
Long black hair, tied in a low ponytail that rested over his shoulder, with a few loose strands blown across his forehead.
Purple eyes, tinged red by the evening light, their outer corners slightly upturned, always carrying a hint of a lazy smile when he looked at someone. A little red mark sat between his brows; she couldn't tell whether it was drawn on or natural. (Haha, his mother had actually given him that.)
His skin was almost excessively pale. His jawline was rather sharp, but that was offset by his long, thick lashes.
This impossibly beautiful person was-
A boy?
Kasumi Miwa had "I don't understand" written all over her face.
She thought of the boys her age. They all had short hair and liked climbing trees to steal birds' eggs, playing war, and eating their boogers.
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Finally, sounding as though her worldview was being rebuilt, she stammered, "Th... thank you, mister."
Hearing Yoshiko call him a young man, Yan Si tilted his head and glanced at her.
Good. The mother had a better eye than her daughter.
He looked down at the little girl, who was still in shock.
Aqua-blue hair, side-swept bangs, named Kasumi.
Kasumi Miwa.
Biting into half a fried shrimp, Yan Si thought of that manga and its anime.
"Jujutsu Kaisen."
Kasumi Miwa. The girl who later enrolled at Kyoto Jujutsu High, so dirt-poor she became a jujutsu sorcerer to support her family. What was her cursed technique again... forgot. Whatever, it didn't matter.
And then there was Mechamaru.
Chewing his fried shrimp, he lowered his eyes to Kasumi Miwa's still-bewildered gaze. Suddenly, he found it a little funny, along with something else he couldn't quite name.
Things had been such a shame for her and Mechamaru.
Whenever he thought about that ending, it always felt like such a waste.
He personally didn't like seeing young couples get tragic endings.
He shook his head.
He was about to take another piece of tempura when his brows suddenly lifted.
Here they came.
He heard them.
Far away, something was approaching. Not just one, but a whole swarm.
Like moths drawn to something, they buzzed toward this place from every direction.
Their auras wove a filthy net through the air, drawing closer and growing denser.
Yan Si closed the plastic container, tucked it under his arm, and waved at Yoshiko.
"I'm off."
Moths to a flame, huh? Then he wouldn't just be the light. He'd be the flame, too.
With those words, he turned and left. His steps were unhurried, yet he'd covered a considerable distance within just a few strides.
The evening breeze lifted the hem of his outdoor jacket, sending a small black arc fluttering behind him.
Yoshiko hurried a couple of steps after him. "Oh? You..."
"Don't see me out."
Without turning around, Yan Si raised a hand and gave a casual wave, his voice scattering a little in the wind.
"The tempura's good. Shame I'm allergic to seafood. Too much will kill me~"
Yoshiko: !
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