The Spike at the Crossroads

Episode 3: The Second Dialogue: The Law of Inescapable Possession and a Torn Conscience

"Grandfather confessed...?"

Outside the hospital room window, night had completely fallen.

Chihiro, holding her smartphone, stared at Haru on the bed. Her eyes wavered with shock and sorrow.

The grandfather Chihiro knew was a saint-like man who would always sit on the veranda, basking in the sun and smiling at her, saying, "Be kind, always be kind to others, Chihiro."

The fact that this grandfather had yielded to fear and sold their precious secret to the enemy pierced Chihiro's heart.

Haru quietly lowered her gaze and gently stroked her withered hand on the sheet.

"Yes. Genzo was kind, more easily frightened than anyone, and... he was a man who tried to protect me with his life.

The night we mailed the spike to the temple, we believed the Buddha would settle everything, and we tried to sleep deeply for the first time in days.

But, Chihiro.

To the dead in the other world, who we begged for help didn't matter at all."

Haru's voice was quiet and cold, as if carrying the chill of the night mist from that long-ago evening.

"A curse does not simply vanish because you send the object to a temple.

Rather, as if punishing our selfish escape, the nightmare returned in the worst possible way that night."

That night in Showa 34, after mailing the package.

"It's alright now. Haru, you're safe now," Genzo said, holding Haru close as they lay in their futon.

Just as the tension broke and they were about to fall into a deep sleep—

RUMBLE-RUMBLE-RUMBLE...!

An earth-shattering vibration. It was incomparably larger and more violent than anything before.

The old pillars of the antique shop groaned, and plaster dust fell from the ceiling.

"Darling...! We sent it to the temple, so why...!"

Haru leapt up, clinging to Genzo's arm.

From the darkness in the back of the shop, the stench of coal smoke and the bloody smell of burning flesh surged like a tidal wave.

There was no need to look out the glass door.

Directly in their ears, the wet, damp voices of dozens of dead souls echoed.

"Our... grudge... remains... with... the... object..."

Countless raspy voices overlapped.

"It... clings... to... the... possessor... No... matter... if... you... let... it... go... or... offer... it... to... a... temple... it... will... never... leave... the... souls... of... those... who... touched... it..."

With that voice, a terrifying vision flashed directly into their minds.

It was the sight of the mud-covered fugitive who had forced the bundle upon them.

The man was lying on his back in a deep mud ditch, his eyes rolled back, his neck snapped at an impossible angle.

On his chest lay one of the black bolts, piercing him.

"Eek...!"

Genzo let out a throat-tearing shriek, clutching his head in the futon.

"He's dead...! He touched the spike once, and he's dead! It was useless to send it to the temple! We're going to be killed just like him...!"

Genzo shook violently, clawing at his own hair.

The mask of the brave young man trying to protect Haru had completely peeled away, leaving only a twenty-five-year-old man driven to madness by extreme terror.

Just as they were gasping for breath under the supernatural onslaught—

BANG!!!

With a violent crash, the glass door at the front of the shop was shattered.

Sharp shards of glass rained down inside the shop.

"Hey, wake up. We know you're in there."

Stepping inside with their muddy shoes were the men in black trench coats who had been watching the shop.

Undercover detectives. In their hands, they held cold police badges and dark, ominous handguns.

They stepped into Haru and Genzo's bedroom without hesitation, looking down at the trembling couple with ruthless eyes.

The lead detective, a man with sharp features, trampled the tatami mats with his muddy boots, grabbed Genzo by the collar, and slammed him against the wall.

"We know you received something. The Matsukawa matter from Tohoku.

It's useless to play dumb. A matchbox from this shop was found where that man was staying.

...Where is the item? Hand it over, and we'll let you live."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about... We don't know anything! We're just an antique shop, we know nothing!"

Genzo squeezed out his voice, but the detective sneered and pressed the cold muzzle of his gun directly against the forehead of Haru, who was trembling behind Genzo.

"Hey, do you care what happens to this young lady?"

The detective's eyes were like a cold machine, devoid of human warmth.

"Anyone who hides something that threatens national security is 'processed,' no matter who they are.

We can make this shop and everything in it vanish without a trace. Think carefully."

The cold metal pressed against Haru's forehead.

A dry click echoed in the quiet room as the hammer of the gun was pulled back.

"Haru...!"

Genzo's eyes widened in despair and terror.

If he lied, Haru would be killed.

If he confessed that they sent it to the temple, the spike would be seized by the state, the truth would be buried forever, and the souls of the deceased crew members would never be laid to rest.

They would be guiding the detectives to desecrate the temple and violate the sacred ground.

In Genzo's mind, conscience, terror, and his love for Haru clashed violently.

But the moment he saw the gun pressed harder against Haru's forehead, Genzo's heart snapped.

"I-I'll tell you! I'll tell you...! Just don't hurt Haru! Don't touch her!"

Genzo pressed his forehead against the tatami, screaming through tears and sweat.

"This afternoon... we mailed it to a temple! To pray for the souls of the dead in Tohoku, we sent it anonymously to that old temple in Yamashina! It's not here anymore! The receipt is over there, so please, please save Haru...!"

Genzo's body convulsed violently like an empty shell.

The detective looked down at him coldly, pulled the gun away from Haru, and snatched the mailing receipt from the counter.

"The temple in Yamashina, eh? ...Let's go."

Leaving muddy footprints behind, the detectives vanished like the wind into the stormy night mist.

The room fell silent.

The cold wind and rain blew mercilessly through the shattered glass door.

Genzo collapsed on the tatami mats, staring at his hands and sobbing like a child.

"I'm sorry, Haru. I'm sorry... I was so scared. I was so scared you would die...

I betrayed the dead, I betrayed the temple, I betrayed everything. I'm... I'm a cowardly piece of trash...!"

Haru couldn't say a word. She could only hold Genzo's slender, trembling shoulders as he wept.

Overlapping with the fading footsteps of the detectives, a furious, sorrowful rumble from the other world echoed deep in their ears.

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