The Spike at the Crossroads

Episode 4: The Third Dialogue: A Morning of Utter Loss, and the Final Verdict

"No one could blame Grandfather for that..."

Large tears spilled from Chihiro's eyes, soaking into the sheets.

Sniffing, Chihiro squeezed Haru's withered hand with both of hers.

"With a gun pointed at the head of the person you love, no one could stay silent. Grandfather just wanted to protect you. That wasn't weakness—it was absolutely love."

Haru looked at Chihiro's tears lovingly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Her expression was a mix of gratitude for her granddaughter's kindness and a deep, quiet resignation.

"Thank you, Chihiro. Hearing you say that makes your grandfather's soul rest easier. ...But, Chihiro. No matter how much love motivated us, we still chose our own lives, betrayed our 'last conscience' by giving up the offering, and dragged others into it."

Haru stared up at the hospital ceiling.

The air was filled with regret, and yet, a deeper, quiet forgiveness.

"With that confession, the silence of the temple was broken, and the injustice of the state defiled a sacred place. And in exchange, the last gear of a terrifying karma began to turn..."

Showa 34, a night of violent storms.

A quiet old temple nestled in a corner of Kyoto.

Located near Rokudo Crossing, the entrance to the other world, it was a quiet place of prayer to mourn spirits who had nowhere else to go.

As the priest was quietly chanting sutras in the main hall, the wooden doors were suddenly flung open with a violent crash.

Stepping in with the howling wind and rain were the undercover detectives in wet trench coats, their eyes cold and ruthless.

"Hey, there's a suspicious parcel sent from Tohoku here. Hand it over."

The lead detective thrust out his police badge from his coat.

Without moving a muscle, the priest quietly shook his head, standing before the small altar in the back of the hall.

"That is an offering to peacefully comfort the souls of those who died in the Matsukawa accident through the mercy of the Buddha. Human hands must not violently touch it. Desecrating the dignity of the dead any further must stop."

"Shut up. This is critical evidence threatening national security. Hide it, and we'll tear this temple down for obstructing justice."

The detectives violently pushed the priest aside and forced their way into the back of the hall.

They tore away the newspaper wrapping from the "spike and screw" resting on the altar and snatched it away.

"Hmph, just a piece of rusted scrap metal. Now the truth will be buried in the dark forever."

The lead detective sneered and threw the package into the trunk of their car.

But they did not realize.

The moment they desecrated the temple, violently obstructed the memorial service, and took the cursed object of their own free will...

The fangs of the ruthless curse that "clings to the possessor" completely detached from Haru and Genzo, sinking deep into the necks of the detectives.

Slicing through the dark night, the black sedan carrying the detectives sped through the rainy streets of Kyoto.

"That was easier to recover than expected. This will satisfy the bosses upstairs."

The detective in the passenger seat was about to light a cigarette when—

BZZZ... BZZZ...

The car radio suddenly erupted into violent static.

At the same time, the smell of scorched flesh and suffocating coal smoke began to fill the sealed vehicle.

"Hey, what is this smell...? Is the heater broken?"

"No, wait... isn't the car shaking unusually?"

Clatter-clank, clatter-clank, clatter-clank...

Though they were driving on an asphalt road, a massive vibration—like iron wheels grinding violently against rails—reverberated from the bottom of the car.

"Hey, look ahead!"

The driver let out a shriek.

In the darkness ahead, a quiet railroad crossing with its gates raised had suddenly appeared.

But there were no tracks supposed to be there.

ROAR—!!!

A deafening blast of steam and a bone-shattering whistle.

From beyond the car's headlights, a massive pitch-black steam locomotive charged toward them with furious momentum, its headlights glowing blood-red.

"No way! There can't be a train here—!"

The driver slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel in panic.

But the steering wheel was frozen stiff, refusing to budge.

Through the windshield, the terrifying, blood-soaked faces of the ghost engineers, their foreheads split open, were burned into the detectives' eyes.

"WOE... TO... THOSE... WHO... BURY... THE... TRUTH... IN... THE... DARK..."

CRASH!!!

With a thunderous impact, the black sedan was struck head-on by the phantom train.

As if crushed by a massive, invisible iron hammer, the car was instantly compressed into a heap of scrap metal, erupting in sparks and shattering into pieces.

The detectives had been physically crushed by the very "weight of truth" they had tried to bury in the dark.

The next morning.

As if the storm of the previous night had been a lie, a clear, beautiful autumn sky spread over Kyoto.

From the old radio in the antique shop, a quiet news bulletin played.

"In the early hours of this morning, a passenger car was found destroyed near a railroad crossing in Kyoto city. Several men on board were confirmed dead at the scene. The police are investigating the cause, treating it as a single-vehicle accident..."

Listening to the radio, Genzo collapsed onto the cold wooden floor of the register, clutching his knees and weeping aloud.

"Haru... I'm a coward. Because they threatened you with a gun, I dragged the temple into this and handed the truth those men tried to protect over to the authorities... I killed them...!"

Genzo's shoulders shook like a child's, heavy with intense regret and guilt.

Haru walked up quietly behind him and wrapped her arms around his slender back.

Her own tears fell, dripping onto Genzo's wet neck.

"Darling, don't cry. You saved my life. To me, you are the greatest hero in the world."

"But I ran away! I trampled on justice and confessed!"

"It's alright. Even if we ran, even if we are weak, as long as we are alive, that's enough. ...The gods and Buddha know our weakness. There is no perfect human. We will live together in this shop, covered in wounds, carrying half of each other's weakness on our backs."

In the morning sun filtering into the antique shop, the two held each other, feeling each other's warmth.

The spike stolen from the temple was never found, no matter how hard they searched the crash site.

But from that day on, the rumbling of the midnight train that had shaken the shop completely vanished.

📖 Next: Epilogue：https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/n97f7db091415　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　
📖Previous Chapter:https://note.com/ttukumoo/n/nd7a637ccb481　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　
🌐 Original Japaneseher:https://note.com/juicy_laelia8513/n/n342c8058c0a9　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

"Thank you so much for reading to the very end!"💗