A Message In Paint

…

Japan, Osaka, November 2005—Ikuno ward.

The midnight sky was curtained in white-dotted black, arching above Osaka city.

Thud. Thud.

Sarai and Mitsu stepped up the stairs of a plain, mid-rise concrete apartment building.

It had open-air corridors, its doors facing narrow balconies overlooking a quiet, dimly lit street.

Dusty vending machines lined the corners around the entrance, and not far away, loomed the roof of a small, modest shrine.

The atmosphere was a gloomy one.

“I hate these stairs,” Mitsu said, a moment before reaching the top floor.

Behind her was Sarai, who seemed clearly exhausted.

Am I really going to stay in her place? It feels kinda wrong…

Mitsu continued marching. “My apartment is the last one.”

The two passed by two numbered, steel doors.

“Umm, Mitsu-san,” Sarai whispered. “Is it safe to have neighbors nearby? Wouldn't you get caught?” he asked.

She stopped near the door to her apartment. “Seriously?” She looked over him. “I can see everything—

!!!

A figure suddenly crashed down from the rooftop! Its target—the vulnerable Sarai!

In a mere second, Mitsu surged, pushing Sarai away.

THUMP! The mysterious figure landed heavily.

In a jet of motion, the figure, who was dressed like a circus clown, dashed at Mitsu, a knife clenched in its hand.

Mitsu stepped to the left, dodging the swing. She held the clown’s wrist, pulled it toward her, and buried a gut-rolling punch in its core.

The clown staggered forward and regripped the knife in a hammer grip.

It didn't breathe or grunt. Its eyes locked on Sarai, who froze in shock behind Mitsu.

Suddenly, the clown rolled its shoulder loose and sprang forward at Mitsu, who stepped back briskly, clamped the nape of its neck, and cracked a knee into its face.

It didn't scream.

She seized the knife, and without hesitation, sliced open the clown’s throat.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Thud. It collapsed.

At first sight, one would think it was a river of blood that poured from the wound. But the truth was quite different.

It was thick, lustrous paint.

Mana particles swam in the air, rising from the colorful paint that poured down the clown’s sliced throat.

Suddenly, the clown's entire figure began to melt just like an illusion. It dissolved instantly into chromatic, liquid pigment that shimmered with mana.

What the hell is going on…? All Sarai could do was watch silently.

Mitsu crouched, “As I expected. It didn't act like a human.” Her gaze sharpened.

“It's a clone. Purely built from mana.” She pressed her lips. “For someone to pull this off… they must be quite skilled.”

“I had mistaken the clone for someone else. That's why we got ambushed,” explained Mitsu.

“Wait, did you know we would get attacked?”

Mitsu brushed her black coat. “I have trained owls all over the city. I took over one eye from each.” She grinned. “I’ve seen the clown all along, but it hid its presence skillfully. I wonder what Faith this is.”

This… This is insane… Sarai's face turned pale at Mitsu's declaration.

The paint soaking the ground began to fade into faint mana fogs. It filled the atmosphere with a mesmerizing fragrance.

Mitsu got to her feet. “The clone was quite weak. This suggests the person who sent it wasn't wishing to harm us.” She cradled her jaw. “It also attacked you first.”

“Someone must be interested in you, but I can't be so sure of that,” she sighed.

Is it some Faithful Mafia? Perhaps I got involved with another group other than Jashin? This memory loss…

“Who do you think is behind this?” Sarai asked after a brief pause.

“You see. I'm used to these kinds of attacks.

“I have taken over many Faithful’s eyes, and they can't reverse the spell unless they kill me.” Mitsu chuckled.

Kill… her… A strange wave of malice—cold and thrillingly familiar—struck Sarai's conscience like a hurricane.

Mitsu produced her keys from her pocket. “This might be another creative attempt to murder me. Either way, they always fail.”

She looked at Sarai, whose pale lips and roaming eyes suggested worry and fear.

“Don't worry, Sarai. You'll be safe with me,” she smiled, unusual for her.

She's so nice to me. She invited me to her house and supported me in my breakdown at the library… Do I really deserve all of this? Sarai pondered for a moment.

I'm just… really grateful… His lips curled up subconsciously.

“Thank you, Mitsu-san. I feel calm now.” Sarai approached the apartment entrance.

Mitsu, facing the steel door, inserted her key, unlocked it, and entered.

“Remove your shoes at the entrance.” Her voice echoed from inside.

Sarai stepped toward the door hesitantly, before abruptly glancing at the fading magical paint on the ground.

What's that? His gaze fell on a strange symbol.

Amid the faint fogs of mana, a familiar symbol was slowly vanishing.

This… It was a stylized, segmented tail that curled up to a sharp stinger.

It looks like the scorpion’s tail… Sarai felt a warm sense of familiarity. One he hadn't anticipated.

This is weird. It can't be a coincidence. The clone attacked me first. Whoever sent this has something to do with me… Sarai crouched before the symbol, his eyes widening instantly.

"Whenever you’re free, at night, let’s have a bite at Piatti Aromatici. I miss you,” was the delicate writing Sarai’s eyes stumbled upon.

So, it was a letter… Who the hell could it be? Either way, he knows of the scorpion, my Faith, which no one else knows the origin of…

The Scorpion saved me… I feel ashamed for not knowing what my Faith truly is… Sarai stared down for a second, the feeling of shame weighing down his body and mind.

It obviously seems like a trap… But it's too obvious to be one… His body shivered.

This is my first clue to understanding what I had become since leaving the cave. Can I afford to ignore it? He tightly gripped his chin as the writing vanished into the air.

In mere seconds, there was nothing left on the ground, and Sarai, who stared at it in a daze, felt a stinging slap pulling him back to consciousness.

“You want to sleep outside or what?” It was a Mitsu whose face cracked with anger.

“Get in now,” she ordered.

Sarai took seconds to react, “I'm sorry.” He stood and followed the thudding sound of Mitsu's heels.

Creaaak! Mitsu pushed the already unlocked steel door.

Sarai stepped inside, raising his head for his first glance of the apartment.

!!

Sarai's jaw dropped, his eyes bulged, and he could only speak his thoughts.

“W-What the fuck is this...?”