The Mastermind’s Untold Secrets

Wide-eyed, I wonder for a sec if it’s not some sort of nightmare. Magic holders… turn into Jikininkis? Is this an attempt to distract me from the dolls I discovered? Right. This may as well be a trap.

“Megumi…”

    When the director makes a move towards me, it’s all it takes for me to turn away from him, from the heap of marionettes.

    Crutch’s taps on the floor echo in the cold tent as I hurriedly go down the stairs. Useless foot. Useless broken foot preventing me from running in a not-mockable way.

    Avoiding to turn back, I escape the tent of horrors, desperately looking for the troop members. Someone. Anyone. I need them to tell me…

    My eyes fall on Fujiko’s figure, eyes closed despite holding a cupcake.

“Fujiko!! Fujiko!” I rush to her, leaning over the couch to grip her shoulders and shake them. “Wake up!”

    …To tell me that it’s all but a lie.

“Umm?..”

    If being shaken makes her open her mouth in mild distress, she manages to keep her eyes closed.

“Me-Megumi? I- I’m not asleep.”

“Dolls! Dozens of them!! The director hides them in a tent, there’s one looking exactly like Tatsuya!”

    As I keep yelling, Fujiko’s eyelids end up slowly showing her golden irises. Around us, other members of the troop gather, intrigued by the ruckus I’m causing.

“Is this what these keys are for? To change us into dolls when we’re out of memories?”

    I let go of Fujiko’s shoulders to turn around, casting glance after glance at the others.

“The director says it’s to prevent us from turning into Jikininkis. That can’t be true, right?”

    Longwei considers me with a pained expression, standing behind Tatsuma. No words cross his lips, though. As if unable to deny, he closes his eyes. Edward gazes at me as if he were observing an odd animal.

“Why don’t you say anything? The fuck…”

“Because it’s the truth, Megumi.” Evren is the one to answer me, his tone steady. “The director hasn’t lied to you.”

“That has to be a lie. That has to be.” My fingers find refuge in my cherry strands of hair. “Or… you’re telling me that among the monsters we’ve killed, there were humans? That we’re murderers?”

    Were they truly all aware of it? None of them has told me anything… Why am I being made the fool, again?

“It wasn’t just some among them, all Jikininkis are former magic holders.” The director approaches the group which formed around me, stopping a few steps away from us. His gloved fingers brush the brim of his top hat, adjusting it. “Former is what you should keep in mind. Jikininkis are no longer humans, they’re but hollow shells, remnants of the souls that once inhabited them.”

“There has to be…” I begin to mumble.

“There’s no turning back once you become one of these creatures, if that’s what you were about to ask.” The director resumes. “Once you’re not able to remember any more, your body keeps impregnated by your magic, consuming any newly formed memory. Did you ever wonder why a Jikininki only eats people’s heads?”

    He pauses, but nobody raises their hand.

“They’re irremediably attracted by magic’s very fuel.” He taps his index finger against the side of his head. “Memories.”

    All of this time… I attacked monsters without knowing what they truly were. I can’t say I’m thrilled about it in the slightest, but… Some tried to kill my friends, and they also have something to do with Mr. Izawa’s disappearance. It infuriates me not having known before, but I’m not that stupid. I can’t protect people I care about and play saints defending monsters in the meanwhile.

    Now I understand why magic has been forbidden. It goes beyond a problem of amnesia. Though for it to become illegal, I guess the government is well aware of this danger. I don’t understand why they kept it secret, but there are more urgent matters right now.

“How is it possible that you know that much about magic? About Jikininkis?” I utter, staring at the director.

    There’s no way a simple circus director would know that much.

“Plus, you say these keys are made to protect us.” I continue since he doesn’t even try to interrupt. “But if that’s the case, why don’t you have one?”

“That is…” The director trails off.

“You seem embarrassed to answer.” I note.

“Stop throwing a tantrum, girl.” Poltergeist’s voice suddenly arises. “It took the director years to achieve crafting these keys. But maybe you’d prefer risking to become a monster able to nibble anyone’s head? Who would you eat first? Tatsuma? Fujiko, maybe? Easy to catch.”

“Don’t play the smartass.” I frown. “I never said I’d prefer to become one. My point remains.”

    A sigh.

“Look. I didn’t want to get to this point, but if ya need me to say it, very well.” Poltergeist continues as Rubeus takes a few steps closer to the director. “Ya don’t have to worry, because the director asked me to kill him the day he’ll end up becoming a Jikininki.”

“Huhh, what?” Fujiko mumbles, shocked.

    Despite a few exclamations of surprise, the silence soon becomes heavy.

    Is this true? Is this another lie?

“Can we truly trust you?” I stare at Rubeus. “Along with the director, you’re the only ones to not have a clockwork key in your back.”

    For a long moment, he says nothing. Rubeus doesn’t seem unsettled though, nor does Poltergeist.

“Girl, don’t you have trust issues?” The white rabbit ends up uttering. “Are you not able to believe your friends?”

    I’m surprised to find a hint of disappointment in his voice.

    A dry laugh is my answer.

“Funny of you to bring it up. What about you? Nobody told me the whole thing. Since I’m a member of the troop, I have the right to know. Unless I’m but an intruder to your eyes?” I pause, turning away from him. “I have reasons to doubt.” I glance back at the director, having in mind my discussion with Edward. Not only does he know that much, but he also managed to craft these keys? “You worked for the laboratory where Edward lived before, am I wrong? What kind of experiments occurred there?”

    This time, the director seems confused. His mask may not let me see his face, but the step back he makes doesn’t go unnoticed.

    I know I’m not the only one not buying the lack of explanations. The others may not say a thing, but there’s confusion in Longwei’s eyes.

“Okay, let’s stop here with the witch hunt.” Poltergeist claps his paws. “Everyone, get ready for tonight’s show. There’s not that much time remaining, make sure to be ready.”

“Are you serious?” I glare at him.

    The way he tries to dismiss my accusations pisses me off. That’s too easy, too convenient. But just when I’m about to protest, Rubeus bypasses me, utterly ignoring me.

    Clenching my fists, my crutch hammers the ground as I walk away in turn.

⋆༺♱༻⋆

    Sat among the tiered seats surrounding the empty stage, feet leant against the barrier adorned with stars, I stare at an ant running along the barrier. For a while, I consider squashing it while imagining it’s Poltergeist. But it would be mean. For the ant.

    I’m still dwelling on our argument when a slow, intriguing music begins to play. A figure appears on the stage, slowly approaching. In his hands he carries a strange instrument, with in the right one what resembles a huge candlestick, and in the other one an overlong pipe.

    A sleeveless jacket with gildings over a white shirt, Evren wears pastel-blue pants matching his jacket. A large colourful scarf as a belt.

    Step by step, he approaches the middle of the stage where he gracefully puts down his candlestick.

    ‘Guess he’s practising his performance for tonight’s show. Not that he has anything to practise, to be honest. Every time it’s his turn on stage, I hear passionate applause.

    Keeping the pipe in his hand, Evren continues to walk around in measured steps, approaching the edge of the pipe to his lips.

    Breathing in, breathing out a purple mist. Little by little, it gathers on the floor.

“You’ve been a bit rude with Rubeus and Poltergeist earlier.” Evren utters as he breathes out another purple cloud.

“Rude?” I scoff at him. “All this time he’s been hiding the truth from me, and now he’s defending the director as if he weren’t suspicious. The hell was I supposed to do? Thank him? Praise him? You’re not wary enough of them.”

    A pause. The mist at his feet now conceals his shoes, rolling in cloudy waves.

“Sometimes, things are not what they seem to be at first. They have more colours, more layers.” Evren’s fingers slowly brush his forearm as he keeps puffing. “But if you focus too much on them, you may forget their original shape. Simpler, and still real.”

“And in Japanese?” I raise an eyebrow at his shenanigans.

“My past may be as misty as the stage, though I can tell you each time the director welcomed a new member in the troop, he cared. Genuinely. If it was all an act, why bother listening to us like he did?” Evren pauses to cast a side glance at me, his emerald eyes mid-closed. “As for Rubeus, if you think for a while, you’d be able to understand the reason he preferred hiding the truth from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t Poltergeist himself conclude that there’s a high probability for your Mr. Izawa to be a magic holder?” He pauses. “They were worried that, upon learning the Jikininkis’ true nature, you would conclude that this man may have become one of them by now.”

    I can’t help a feeling of dread from creeping up inside me at his words.

“I… didn’t think of that.” I mumble, lowering my head.

    Not hurrying in the slightest, Evren turns to face me. When he’s close enough, he extends his hand towards me. I can feel the edge of his pipe pressing under my chin, pushing me to glance up at him. A large, colourful ribbon wrapped around his forehead, cobalt blue strands of hair caress his cheeks.

“Don’t forget,” He whispers with an impish smile, “keep your temper.”

    He doesn’t linger for long before turning away, taking a deep breath from his pipe before releasing a glowing, enormous purple flame.

    Despite his words, I can’t help doubt from lingering in my heart, along with a feeling of unease.