Chapter 2: Bought

The tin clown probably hadn’t done anything in particular.
But ever since it fell silent, customers had begun to return to the antique shop, little by little.

There were more sounds than before, yet those who came were all people wrapped in a somehow calm air.
Just as always, Rin stood there today as well—quietly, simply.

That day, the shop owner brought in a single customer. He was still a young man.
The two of them were talking about something in front of Rin.

But Rin let the exchange pass by like the sound of the wind.
It reached her ears, yet her heart did not stir.

Apparently, the man wished to purchase Rin.
How long had it been since she had last been owned by someone—she could no longer remember.

But even so, that was fine.

What Rin wished for was simply to be quiet and at peace.
That was all.

Before long, she was carefully wrapped by the shop owner’s hands, placed into a box, and passed into the man’s hands.
What she could faintly hear through the box were the explanation of the item, and the shop owner’s wish.

“Care should be done with a soft brush, or something similar…
Please treasure her, like a daughter…”

How much time had passed.
Rin was brought out into the light once more.
Inside a hospital room, where gentle sunlight streamed in.

On the white sheets, a woman gently lifted Rin into her arms.
She gazed at her with a nostalgic look, and smiled.

“You know, at my grandmother’s house, there was an Ichimatsu doll.
I used to play with her a lot… and I got scolded for it.”

That smile soon began to lose its color.
The fatigue of a long battle with illness, and a disease with no visible end, were quietly eating away at that expression.

A man beside her—probably her husband—was taking photographs of the woman and Rin.
After taking several, he was posting them to social media.
Rin did not understand what he was doing.
But the two of them were smiling at each other, and that was enough.

Rin kept her gaze fixed on the woman.
With no words and no movement, simply, quietly, being there.

And then she realized.
An alien presence entwined around that body.

—This is a curse.

An extremely precise spell formula.
Not the resentment or impulse of an amateur, but something intended, prepared, and executed with exactness.

Rin understood it at once.
But she did nothing.

There was no reason.
She simply—did not wish for this peace to change.

For now, it was fine to remain as she was.
As long as it stayed quiet—that was enough.