Ghostly Mommy White-faced Baddie at the Bridge

Hoshino leaned forward to the railing, his eyes following the rustling waters beneath the bridge as it wedged through and separated the beautiful Kanzakichō from its surrounding cities. Cars and motorcycles had been passing by. Some people—who called themselves concerned citizens—asked if he was doing alright, too. They tried to cheer him up. Some random quotes were thrown around. Someone even showed him a quote attached to Joker’s face.

It was a nice gesture, but it was also a weird one. They really, really wanted to know if he was doing good. Hoshino never really thought about why they were doing what they were doing. But nevertheless, they stopped when he showed them his badge.

Hoshikuzu Bridge. It had been a while since Hoshino had been here. He didn’t plan on coming back. He never even got the chance to think much about it. It was just amusing to point out that because of this case, he had the opportunity to return to this place and look back at how really shitty his life once was.

For the fact that he was alone… well, he escaped. Then, he took a shower at home.

Someone had to explain to the authorities what happened to Sakuramine, and Ishigami was the man for the job. After going down the building, Hoshino received a good ol’ pat on the back from Ishigami and a bit of a congratulatory remark. Ishigami was surprised that he stepped up, too. Hoshino was glad—but only for a moment. Because Ishigami sent him off and told him to rest. That was it. Hoshino followed, not really sure what to do.

Hazama never called back, either. Though she did send them a message saying she’d be taking a nap because the boss told her that chugging her eighth bottle of energy drink would send her to the grave. For that, he could only assume that Hazama would go support Ishigami too, to sort out the mess they—he—created in Sakuramine.

And now he was here—at the Hoshikuzu Bridge, a Kanzakichō attraction famous for young couples or very, very sad individuals who wanted a mighty river to release their soul into the world.

Hoshino grit his teeth as he set his eyes upon the water, staring at the way its surface glimmered under the sun. Yoshiya’s voice still haunted him. They really could’ve done better. Or rather, he could’ve done better. If he was removed from the equation… it might’ve been better if Ishigami acted alone from the start. Taking it a bit further, it would also be much, much better if Hazama was there instead of him. Seriously. Yoshiya and Satoru were so cocky about it, too.

Hoshino lowered his gaze. They could’ve won. Hoshino could’ve cleared the building. If Yoshiya wasn’t there to make his legs not work like they used to before… Hoshino sang it in his head. Fuck. He grimaced. He took down several Butterflies. The hostages had escaped. If he had taken care of Black and the rest… he could’ve shot a bolt or two to distract Satoru, and they would’ve won.

The odds were stacked against them. That. And… Hoshino breathed, nodding to himself as he strained his eyes. He was weak. Painfully so.

Nevertheless, there should still be something that only he could do right at this moment.

The answer didn’t elude him, which was why he went to this particular bridge where Nagamori Arisa jumped from. Following this lead was the best way for him to shove those terrible feelings deep within his heart. Where should he start? He wasn’t entirely sure.

Nagamori Arisa. She came from the boonies. If Hoshino came from a mountain village, Nagamori came from a farming one. Other than that, there was nothing special about the town itself. No history of crime. No history of supernatural attacks or even phenomena. Nothing related to either or anything in between. Though to be fair, they wouldn’t have known if the village had ties to the supernatural either way. The farther one was from the city, the more likely they were to encounter people who worshipped a local deity rather than relying on the government.

Thus, her family was clean, too. It told a somewhat sad story. On paper, it seemed that the Nagamoris relocated from the boonies to somewhere near Kanzakichō in hopes of having a better life. The father got a job as a taxi driver. The mother remained a housewife. Everything was good. But then the father lost his job. And a couple of bad decisions later, poor Arisa inherited her parents’ debt as the two suddenly disappeared from the map.

Hoshino sighed and showed his badge to another batch of concerned citizens who wanted to approach him. They gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared.

But going back, there were a lot of factors at play here. It felt bad admitting it to himself, but Nagamori Arisa would’ve done it way earlier if her mind wasn’t in the right place. He believed that for a fact. Hope could be a terrible, terrible thing. Hoshino could understand that much. And he might be overthinking this, but if someone were to kill themselves, they would’ve done it where it was most convenient. Otherwise, they might be doing it to send a message.

It would also be weird for Nagamori Arisa to be attached to this place. Hoshikuzu Bridge might be a red herring—the biggest one there was. Literally. Because right now, Hoshino was standing in a hotspot where malevolent mana burned and soared like a great inferno. So much so that Hoshino couldn’t really call it a signature anymore.

Hoshino didn’t burn or anything. It was just… weird. To a normal person, this bridge must’ve felt very cold and eerie. Maybe a bit sad. He was just more sensitive to it due to being an exorcist. That was why he could go beyond vague details (by going even more vague) and describe the great, deep sadness it made him feel as he watched the sunset—somehow wanting to cry as its golden radiance slowly faded from him.

“It’s quite the view, no?”

It was a sweet voice, almost rhythmic. Then—clack.

Beside Hoshino was a woman made tall by wooden, lacquered sandals. She wore layers of silk, the outermost bearing a flowing wash of deep red, patterned with gold-lined flowers that seemed to drift on the surface of water. Her face was painted a luminous white, seemingly shining not because of the waning daylight, but in the way moonlight trickles and ripples into the deepest parts of a river.

Her mystical, alluring eyes were sharpened with color. A mix of red and black traced their edges, honing them like a blade, before the pigment beneath her eyes bloomed down her cheeks like falling petals. Her hair was just as grand, drawn up to expose her nape and adorned with golden ornaments that swayed upward, as though swimming in the air instead of hanging from her head.

Hoshino froze. Shit. It was pretty easy to tell. Hell, she wasn’t even hiding it. It wasn’t like a woman in this day and age would wear clothes like these. It also wasn’t just because she was accompanied by two burning, wax-like skeletal figures—one holding an umbrella over her and the other staring deep into Hoshino’s soul. No. Not just that. Hoshino was also trying to ignore the fact that this woman was trying to flatten him with the sheer weight of her malevolent energy alone.

The appropriate response would be to piss his pants, scream in fear, and run. Not necessarily in that order. Hoshino was a master of his own bladder. He also had to admit that dying—he entertained the thought just now. But not with this. Not right now. In front of this tall mommy oiran baddie with her two skeleton bodyguards, living for a bit longer didn’t sound too bad.

“It’s… relaxing?”

Hoshino let his shoulders drop, recalling the copious amounts of experience he had talking with women of all shapes, sizes, walks of life, and even fetishes. Right now, he felt like he was in a room surrounded by countless white figures, all looking at him for support—like the avatar.

“It makes you think. Even step back.” Wait. Hoshino felt like he was being a little too honest right now. He seemed a bit too relaxed for his own comfort, too. “It makes me think about where I am and… my problems. Damn, now it’s pissing me off.”

The malevolent spirit chuckled. “That is true. I haven’t looked at the same sunset for years, despite it being the same view and the same sky. It’s slightly different every time. Maybe that’s why it somehow continues to find ways to annoy me and my weary heart… and at the same time, the idea itself soothes me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” The malevolent spirit set her eyes upon him. She smiled, faintly. “The sun reminds me of my painful existence, my problems, my reason for being. But at the same time… it lets me see that I’ve come far—which I think is far more interesting. Time is something I had plenty of. The darkness may cast its shadows and make things larger, smaller, sharper than what they truly are. But under the light of the sun… yes, you become aware of a thing’s true form… but you also realize that they are just… things. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Is this…” Hoshino found himself smiling as he stepped back to meet the oiran’s gaze. Her words were somewhat true, but he would have to ponder more about what she said at a later time. Right now, he could somewhat get it. “Is this your way of telling me not to jump off the bridge?”

The oiran tilted her head, the umbrella following the motion. “Are perhaps you not?”

“So… you’re not going to kill me either?”

“That depends.” The oiran raised a brow. For a moment, they showed a hint of confusion—fear, even—especially when it looked like she was staring at something else. “Killing you would be easy, but it would bring me a great deal of problems. However—”

Hoshino immediately raised both his hands. “Not gonna kill myself. Not gonna fight you either.” He found himself smiling once again. “Happy to know that you’re actively telling people not to jump. To be honest, I thought you’d be out for blood, always.”

“I try.” The oiran chuckled again. What was she responding to? Hello? “I’d rather not have someone perish on my bridge if I can afford it.”

“Really?”

There were records of a certain spirit dragging people to the bottom of the river around Hoshikuzu Bridge. Hazama included some of them in the files she gave them under Nagamori Arisa’s folder. Asking the oiran more about it might be a bad idea.

“That could be a topic for another day, exorcist.”

The oiran nodded at him, amused. It seemed like Hoshino didn’t need to rely on his experience after all. Talking to her was easy… maybe due to a curse or an ability, but it didn’t sound too bad. This conversation felt refreshing, somehow.

“I…” Hoshino met the oiran’s eyes again. “I’ll bring something next time. Any requests?”

“Sake…” The oiran covered her mouth. “I’ll gladly receive it.”

“Sure… and on that note,” Hoshino bowed to the oiran. He didn’t know if it was appropriate, but to hell with that—though he wished it would. He would’ve moved closer if not for the skeleton that stepped in and blocked his way. “Have you seen the girl that jumped off this bridge recently? Young. Long brown hair with bangs that covered her forehead. Thick eyebrows. Missing a front tooth. That one?”

The oiran nodded and lifted her arm, pointing him back toward Kanzakichō—particularly the part of the business district with a number of run-down shops. Another lead. He remembered renting some rooms there for his job. If he was lucky, he might run into someone he could recognize.

“I often saw her coming from there…” Then the oiran faced the sun. “She would pass by my bridge early in the mornings. Sometimes, she would stop and watch the sun rise. The last time I saw her… was late at night. She stood by the railing, tears in her eyes, holding her belly. There was not a lot of light left in her eyes. Then, without saying a word, she jumped. It was… unfortunate.”