Golden Strings

Ayaka Tsujimoto wore her talent like a crown and wielded it like a whip.
A former child prodigy, she had performed across Europe before fading into obscurity. Now 47, she remade herself as a strict piano tutor and ruthless manager for aspiring talents. Her home, lined with gold accents and velvet drapes, doubled as a conservatory. Every student feared her but stayed―for success.

The Forgotten Shrine ― A Stirring in the Fog

Miles away, in the forgotten grounds of a crumbling shrine near Mt. Kumotori, a black horse pawed at the earth. Its breath steamed in the cold air. The wind whispered through ancient trees. A katana, once sealed in stone, began to hum with life.

Unseen to mortal eyes, the spirit of the samurai—Kenshin—stood at the edge of time.
With each sin committed, his judgment grew sharper, heavier.

He remembered Ayaka’s ancestor—a high minister who once clapped and laughed as Kenshin was executed. The family line had continued to take, to demand, never satisfied.

Now, another mark was ready to be released. Another sin would be stamped. And the headless samurai waited… for the next name to burn in ink.

Using The Name of God in Vain

Ayaka's greed seeped through everything she touched, though she wore humility like a mask. She wasn’t a pastor, nor ordained—but she spoke with the authority of one, using her unmatched talent to elevate the church’s music ministry to national acclaim.

Their clean, dynamic sound made them famous. And Ayaka—strict, polished, and tireless—was crowned the silent architect behind it all.

Behind the curtains, her motives were darker. She funneled 90% of all donations from her music services into her own accounts, offering the remaining 10% to the church “in faith.”
She believed herself a divine instrument—no, more than that. A goddess of gospel. The church was merely her stage.

One day, a luxury car arrived—a gift from a prominent company in Aichi Prefecture, thanking the church for years of musical support.
A sleek white Maserati, intended for the Lead Pastor.

Ayaka stepped in.

With a feigned smile, she offered her used Toyota C-HR to the church instead, claiming the Maserati was “impractical for pastoral service.” She took the Maserati for herself.

Later, she stood before the congregation and declared,
“God sent me as a divine asset to this church.”

She then demanded a section of the church's property lot—to build her private piano school.
And they agreed.

Lesson from Hell ― Ueno Church Conservatoruy ― 6:00 PM

She adjusted her golden rings, one of which bore a cracked crossed. She sneered when the boy winced.

The Final Crescendo

“Kento?” she called out.

No answer.

The whispers grew louder—echoing through the room. Not Japanese. Not any earthly tongue.

It was a song.
A man's voice.
Ancient.
Mournful.
Cursed.

She turned back to the piano—and saw Kento’s form had changed. Sitting at the keys now was a headless samurai, dressed in rotting armor, his hands gliding over the keys with unnatural grace.

Ayaka stumbled back, eyes wide.

The piano lid snapped open with a violent crack. From within, golden strings rose like serpents, writhing in midair.

Ayaka whispered, “Oh my God! What... is this?”

Ayaka commanded the headless ghost, "In Jesus name! You don't have place in here! Get out!"

The strings struck—coiling around her wrists, her throat, her chest. She tried to scream, but no sound came. Her voice was devoured by silence itself.

She struggled—but it was useless. A fine thin line formed on her neck. Then a man's voice, like a song, from the air, "Do not use the name of God in vain, you greedy lady, you greedy lady"

She didn’t know Kento had already left. Ten minutes earlier. He had felt the shift in the air. And ran.

10 Minutes Later ― Discovery

The church pastor rushed in, drawn by the strange noise. What he found made his breath hitch.

Ayaka’s lifeless body lay slumped over the piano—her head barely attached, dangling by a single shimmering golden thread.

The lead pastor staggered back, eyes wide, trembling fingers dialing the police. He couldn't find the words. How could he explain... this?

Behind Ayaka, etched in delicate musical notation across the wall, was a single word:

“Forgiven.”

Beneath it:
A black lotus. A cracked gold ring. Both painted in dried ink and something darker.

By morning, news of the gruesome scene had spread nationwide.
Talk shows speculated, crime analysts debated.

One theory began to circulate—whispers of a vengeful spirit punishing those guilty of the Seven Deadly Sins. Police dismissed it as urban folklore. Still, they interviewed Kento, Ayaka’s last student.

The boy, pale and shaken, gave a quiet answer:

“While I was practicing… I saw a black horse through the window.
It just stood there. I couldn’t tell if it was listening… or watching.
I don’t know why, but something told me to leave.
So I ran.
I never saw what happened to Sensei Ayaka…”

He looked down, voice barely a whisper:

“But I think… the horse did.” 

Nagoya Train Station ― The Girl in Shadows

A train hummed steadily toward Kameyama Station. In one of its dimly lit cars, the girl in dreams and shadows.
Yuriko—the reincarnated daughter of the emperor—sat quietly, earbuds in, eyes locked on her phone screen.

A breaking news alert flashed:

"Tragedy in Ueno: Music Teacher Found Dead in Church Conservatory. Police Baffled."
"‘She Took Too Much,’ One Witness Says."

Yuriko’s lips curled into a faint smile.
She whispered, almost lovingly:

“Greed has been silenced. Who shall I mark next?”

From her open palm, black ink bled out—slow, deliberate—creeping across the train window. It twisted, writhed… and formed a new mark.

Her next stop... Nara Prefecture. The past tugged at her like a thread. And something ancient—something darker—guided her hand.

The ink shimmered against the glass as her whisper faded into the rattle of the train:

“Your time is coming.”

[Next:The Sleepwalker]