I was given an attic-like room on the second floor of Benjiro-san's pawnshop for me to stay in, consisting of a futon and a table, as well as a spare cotton kimono.

Since ghosts don't usually eat to survive, they're free to eat anything they'd like, whether it's expired or poisonous. They just feed on energy from the moonlight or sunlight, or the other elements of nature. At least that's what Benjiro-san told me.

So I ate only miso soup and pickled vegetables prepared by Benjiro-san, who was surprisingly assisted by Azuri. Not that I'm complaining, it was a very decent meal as I've often fasted during my time in Matsuryoku.

"How was the bath, Shizuka-san?"

Benjiro-san asked after I got changed into the clean cotton robes he lent me, feeling refreshed as ever after that warm bath. I was about to open my mouth to speak when...

"I apologize. I've forgotten, oh silly little old me." He chuckled to himself. "I assume the bath was to your liking?"

I nodded with a smile. I wondered if ghosts take baths, too?

"That's good. Regarding the seeds, there's something I've forgotten to explain. The Higanbana of the ghost realm and the mortal realm are sealed with a spell that defies opposing species."

What does he mean by that?

"To clarify, mortals cannot interact with the blue bloom, just as ghosts cannot with the red. The bond must deepen first. Only then would you two be able to touch both flowers after a certain degree of affinity. I'm afraid I can't grasp a clearer definition of this 'affinity'. I've been a ghost for so long that I'm slowly starting to forget things. I'll record what I recall and advise you accordingly when it becomes relevant."

I never thought ghosts could also forget their own past. I always assumed they lingered, tied to the earth until someone set them free. Was it my fault he couldn't reach the mortal world anymore? 

Pity rose in me.

"Hehe . . . Shizuka-san. I can tell you're blaming yourself for something that was my fault. Don't. It wasn't because of the chant. In fact, the chant protected me. From mortals trying to summon me tirelessly. I could finally have time for myself."

Really? Hayashi-san used to be popular in Kyoto, as well . . . I couldn't believe I had done him a big favor. The pity welling up in my heart drained. Does that make him a retired urban legend?

It's quite silly.

After that, he bowed before climbing downstairs. Warmth spread over me. It's like I have a father within Benjiro-san. I expected he'd be furious at me for banishing his abilities in the mortal realm, but I was met with the opposite.

My elders in my hometown were always busy with rituals and ceremonies. They never had time for me. Not that I'm complaining, either. I was as busy as they were.

Come to think of it, I was practically raised like a student. Almost a stranger, even. Family roles do not matter in my household. Only masters, elders, and followers, just as teachers and students. I wasn't even blood-related to any of them, either. I never noticed that until now. I doubt they'll mourn over my death once the deal with the Shinigami King is settled.

Not that I honestly care.

Inside my room, I plopped on the futon. No matter how long I've kept my eyes closed, I couldn't sleep. The memories of Ayumi's ceremony still lingered in my mind.

Let me forget this once.

It's dark outside, so I rose to watch down from the windowsill as the street lights glimmered in the winter air, as snowflakes poured. It's a lot slower than it is in the mortal world.

The moon above was crescent. There were still so many ghosts on the streets, exploring each stall as if they were celebrating a festival. Almost like there are festivals every day and night. Looking at how happy they are, I couldn't help but think . . . Yeah. They deserve all this.

Especially to those who suffered greatly in the mortal world.

I heard the door slide open.

"Oh, yay, you're still awake."

Seriously. Does Azuri not know how to knock on a girl's resting room? He walked towards me while holding a small box before halting his steps. I gave him the 'what do you want' stare, which he took pretty well. He grinned with haught, "We're nabbing those seeds. Tonight."

WHAT?! ALREADY?! Could I rest first?

As if he read my thoughts, he hissed, "No time to slack off. It annoys me to do the work tomorrow when I can get it done now. Come on, get dressed."

He threw an exquisitely designed yukata at my face. As I held it, I observed its details. Colored in red, gold, and black, there was an embroidered pattern on the back that looked like a goat with horns. The fabric looked and felt rather expensive. There was also a text embroidered above the goat. It said, 'Mochizuki'.

I remember rumors in Matsuryoku about a womanizing urban legend that sneaks up on depressed maidens and possesses them to commit suicide so they can be his in the ghost realm. However, he stopped haunting the town two decades ago.

I wonder when and how did Azuri get these?

Azuri flopped down on the ground, cross-legged, and began to explain as he opened the small box, which turned out to be a medical kit.

"Story time. The seeds of the blue Higanbana flowers were once hidden in a sacred garden from who knows where." He explained as he grabbed my wrist and applied some sort of a herbal liquid on my scarred palms. It stung. A lot.

I've gotten used to this since I was prone to injuries from training the traditional Shizuka family combat moves. Was he actually treating the wounds he gave me? Color me surprised. I suppose he did because Benjiro told him. But with such a casual and cool expression, it didn't feel like it. Why do I even care?

He's just a ghost. Just part of this whole mess.

"The seeds were protected until . . ." He then clicked his tongue, irritation seeping through. "Until this greedy bastard called Mochizuki Kamoshida bought them and kept them for display in his old mansion, which he soon reestablished into a cranky brothel in the red light district around this area."

After wrapping my palms with a thin fabric, Azuri closed the medical kit before crossing his arms, grumbling inaudibly something that sounded like curses. The way he spoke Mochizuki's name sounded as though he had a really big grudge towards this ghost.

"Here's the plan."

❁

Disguising myself as a servant of the Mochizuki Brothel was something I partially expected. With these sharp robes, insoles in my socks to make me look taller without wearing uwabakis, a pair of tinted glasses to conceal my eyes, and a wig made from the soft bristles of a broom to hide my hair . . .

I almost look like a man with insanely shaggy hair. Well, a young man. And as for, uhm—I guess I didn't need to recall it. I have to admit something, though. Azuri was honestly such a real looker.

Both as a man, and a maiko.

"No. Thanks." He warned with a serious tone and shifted into an alarmed gesture when he saw me touching the handle of a hand mirror. "But you look great, too. Very handsome. I like your hair. Very spiky."

He's joking.

Doesn't he want to see how pretty he looked? I worked so hard applying make-up all over his face, fixing his kimono, layering him with robes to cover his figure, and styling that long, luscious hair of his into a nihongami!

He insisted on wrapping a red ribbon strap around his neck for decoration. He turned out so unrecognizable and beautiful, but he didn't even thank me!

I guess he still has a bit of pride in his masculinity.

Azuri and I managed to sneak into the brothel's gates via the trees of the garden without getting caught suspicious. For a first experience in infiltrating a sophisticated place, this doesn't seem bad! As soon as the security entrance allowed us, we entered through the doors, and we found ourselves in a vast lobby.

"Feast your eyes on this." Azuri grinned, and suddenly, my face was met with red lights, flashing my eyes. "Welcome to the Mochizuki Brothel, Mari. A place where people fuck the life out of each other and gamble all their dignity and virginity away."

Uh-huh . . . The scent of an intoxicating incense filled my nostrils, making me almost feel light-headed until Azuri grabbed me by the shoulder before my body could fall.

"Woah, get a hold of yourself. Still remember the plan?'

I weakly nodded in response. To distract myself from the agonising smell, I look around my surroundings. The floor was packed and bustling with men and women openly flirting on and about with each other to the point of . . . I don't want to think about it.

It was just as Azuri mentioned in his plan. A party is held here to celebrate Mochizuki's return from somewhere. This Mochizuki Kamoshida guy must be anywhere except near the display room of the blue Higanbana seeds.

"Hey, you two! State your names!"

My soul left my body when a samurai called us out.

Names! Why didn't we think of that?!

"How rude!" Azuri responded with a forced high-pitched voice as he covered his mouth with an open fan. He was using the same voice he used to mock me back at the hut.

"Do you know who I am?!"

"Uhh . . . No, miss..?" The samurai didn't seem the least convinced.

"I'm the courtesan Michiko Satsujin, excuse me! Most beloved mistress of your boss, Kamoshida!" Azuri was totally gagging mentally when he said that. And Michiko again?!

"Ple, Please excuse my behavior, Satsujin-sama! I failed to recognize you." The samurai bowed in shame. He obviously didn't expect to see one of Mochizuki's mistresses return with such height.

“What of that servant boy beside you? He doesn't look like an assigned worker of—”

"HUSH! He's none of your business!"