Chapter 67 – First Job
Two mice summoned by my father infiltrated the room through a small opening in the slightly ajar door.
After a while, my father, who was sharing his field of vision within an impromptu ward, nodded once. It seemed that he had confirmed that it was safe inside.
With my father leading the way, we finally made our way into the room.
The first thing that caught my eye upon entering the room was the paintings displayed on the wall.
The morning sun pouring in through the large window served as the lighting, illuminating the numerous lined-up paintings.
These paintings were not stiff landscape paintings or abstract works with unclear subjects.
Even someone like me, who knows little about art, could sense the value conveyed by these paintings with just one glance.
(Ah, I see. Indeed, I don’t want to burn these.)
The motifs of the displayed paintings were all members of Mamoru-kun’s family.
Among them was even the painting of the aquarium that he had shown me back in kindergarten.
The row of paintings spanning across the wall was like Mamoru-kun’s picture diary, vividly depicting memories from his kindergarten days.
The oldest page of the picture diary was located in the corner of the room furthest from the entrance, where sunlight was scarce.
(This is the target of this mission.)
A Yokai that infiltrated the peaceful Shoji family possessed a painting, which was the first one Mamoru-kun had ever drawn.
As I looked at the Yokai—or rather, the painting—I understood why Mamoru-kun didn’t want to burn it.
Naturally, the painting possessed by the Yokai depicted Mamoru-kun’s family.
Although it was far inferior compared to his latest works, with a single glance, I could tell it depicts a scene of his family gathered in the living room, enjoying their time together.
Mamoru-kun’s mom, dad, and his much older brother were all facing me with smiles.
Burning this painting meant burning away precious memories.
It felt incredibly ominous, and it made me uncomfortable.
(Mamoru-kun’s mom would also feel disappointed, I’m sure of that.)
If Mamoru-kun’s first drawing is such a wonderful piece, it’s only natural that they would want to preserve it.
Looking back now, my parents in my past life were the same.
During the time I was sorting through their belongings, I found numerous items from my childhood that they stored in a cardboard box placed just before the closet.
The cardboard box was worn out, likely because they had taken it out and looked at the items in it many times.
I felt embarrassed and at the same time nostalgic, tears that I thought had dried up during our parting welled up again.
When Mamoru-kun showed me the painting for the first time, he shyly told me something.
“Mama praised me.”
For both Mamoru-kun and his mom, the memories of this moment were precious to them.
Even if he was to recreate the same painting, what was lost cannot be regained.
For the sake of my best friend, I will go the extra mile here.
As a professional (or rather, aspiring professional), I will fulfill the client’s request.
The professional I envision is a skilled craftsman who possesses abilities far superior to those around him, capable of accomplishing tasks that amateurs consider impossible and at the same time be able to do it all with elegance.
Indeed, by leaving behind achievements that become anecdotes, I can proudly claim to be the industry’s top figure, earning the respect of those around me.
And by becoming a famous person known throughout Japan, I will be able to die without regrets this time.
When we entered the room, the Yokai began to show the purpose of its existence.
They usually distort the possessed paintings, aiming to cause discomfort to those who see them.
Naturally, the happy scene that was supposed to be complete in the painting of the Mamoru-kun’s family crumbles away.
The Yokai seems to understand well what makes humans uncomfortable. Mamoru-kun’s mother’s face swells up eerily, while his Papa and his older brother have their body parts dismembered, as they float in the air.
The warm color scheme became muddled, and the living room background transformed into a quagmire.
Oh, how dare you, you low-class fool.
If you show him such things, my best friend will become sad.
Your actions are not only increasing the negative energy, but it is also a foolish move within the foolish scheme that fuels the motivation of this Onmyoji.
“Without a doubt, the Threat Level is 3. Proceed with the preparations as planned.”
“Understood.”
Regardless of whether I take on a new challenge or not, the preparations according to the theory are necessary.
I spread out the fireproof sheet I had prepared outside the door and place a large paper with a drawn formation on top of it.
By infusing spiritual power into this formation, a non-material ward will be erected, reducing spiritual spreading from inside to outside.
Yes, this ward is a cage for confining this Yokai.
If one has a talent as an Onmyoji, it is possible to perceive this non-material ward.
Father, who confirmed the construction of the ward, deftly manipulated a pole with a hooked end in his hand and lifted up the wall-hanging painting.
Snap!
In the face of our swift actions, the Yokai could do nothing to resist.
This was the result of us practicing these actions countless of times at home.
Feeling a slight relief at the unexpected lack of counterattack, Father signaled me with a nod.
(If I’m going to try something, now is the time to try it.)
Receiving such a message, I immediately extended tentacles from my right hand.
What I am about to do is an attempt that ordinary people would deem impossible.
Just like Mamoru-kun, there will be naturally clients that value artwork and would request me to save the paintings.
However, I have never heard of a case where a piece of art was successfully protected from an Yokai.
Not only paintings, but lower level Yokai often attach themselves to other types of artworks.
They use artworks as vessels to sustain themselves.
In other words, Yokai that have become the artworks themselves will interfere almost instantly. Quite literally, it becomes a part of their being.
To overcome this absurdity, there are two possible ways to overcome this.
- Protect the artwork before the Yokai interferes.
- Remove the Yokai from the artwork.
I know, my ideas are mediocre.
Well, even if it’s a slightly eccentric strategy, the ideas I came up with in five minutes have surely been tried long ago.
So, what I should focus on is not the method but the means.
Since the incident at the Shichi-Go-San ceremony, I have been sharing various secrets with my father.
We discussed refinement of spiritual power, the existence of mysterious creatures and the hidden world, as well as Body Strengthening and the abilities of my tentacles.
I wanted to know if what I have experienced so far is common or not.
Considering the prosperity of the Kyobe family, it is clear that I should share my knowledge and techniques with my father.
Now, the result of that conversation was…
“Everything I have experienced is a series of irregular events that have little to do with an ordinary Onmyoji world.”
That was it.
Regarding tentacles in particular, my father said, “I don’t understand it at all.”
Normally, if you release spiritual power into the air, it disperses like mist. However, I can condense and manipulate it at will.
Generally, it seems that spiritual power itself does not have any physical effect. However, I can use my tentacles to lower sacred objects from high places or take tissues to wipe spilled juice.
I can even hear sounds from distant places and grab mysterious creatures.
However, because tentacles, like spiritual power, cannot be seen, my father is about to be toyed with by tentacles that suddenly poked out from an empty space.
“……!?”
My father, who was tapped on the shoulder by a tentacle, opened his eyes wide and looked around restlessly.
He didn’t seem to have noticed it even though it was swaying right in front of him.
For an ordinary person like me to surpass the great figures of the past would be impossible without using such unconventional methods.
The Yokai, who had become a fish on a chopping board, only distorted the painting meaninglessly.
Now is my chance.
I extended my tentacles, and I cautiously touched the painting.
(Phew, that’s a relief! No counterattack or anything!)
I still vividly remember being careless and receiving damage from a mysterious creature.
Although I am securely covered in heavy spiritual particles this time, it is unclear whether it will be effective against this Yokai.
The fact that it is uncertain makes it full of possibilities.
An unexpected counterattack might come at any moment.
As for me, I want to settle things as soon as possible.
I cautiously stopped touching the picture placed on the floor with the tip of my tentacle, and I instead slowly began to move the tentacle. It felt like stroking the glass surface of a painting.
I don’t know what I can achieve by doing this.
It’s an action fueled by the hope that some Yokai would conveniently pop out and entangle with my tentacles.
(Hmm?)
As I focused my consciousness on the sensations transmitted through the tentacles, I felt a familiar sensation.
This is… what was it again… um.
It’s a very faint memory, but I definitely experienced this sensation somewhere before.
Amidst my accelerating thoughts, I finally pulled the memories from the past.
(Ah, it was the goldfish scooping at the festival.)
The behavior of the fleeing goldfish when the scoop touched the water’s surface, a similar sensation to that was being transmitted from the painting.
Could it be that the Yokai inside the painting is trying to escape from the tentacles?
As a test, I quickly moved the tentacles, and the Yokai inside the painting desperately fled within the confines of the aquarium.
I won…!
It seems I was fortunate enough to find the correct answer on my first attempt.
Chasing after the fleeing Yokai with all my might, I finally captured it with my tentacles.
(I can’t let it get away!)
The moment I grabbed the Yokai, I pulled up my tentacles. It felt more like fishing than catching goldfish. And I was using a lure with tracking function.
(Come out from Mamoru-kun’s painting!)
After a slight resistance, the Yokai that has been possessing the painting appeared.
What I have in my tentacles is a black mist-like mass.
Threat Level 3 Yokai are unstable beings, and they are usually described as having a vague, mist-like appearance.
It was just like the illustrations I had seen in the reference books.
(Now, let’s incinerate it with the Flame Talisman—)
While inwardly rejoicing that my unconventional plan had worked, I calmly considered my next move.
However, an unexpected situation arose when I took out the talisman from my pocket.
Shwaa…
The Yokai disappeared as if the mist had cleared. The strange sensation of grabbing the mist with my tentacles had vanished without me noticing.
It didn’t just vanish from my sight; it disappeared from right in front of me?!
Oh no, this is bad!
“Dad, it escaped! What should we do?”
What? How did it manage to escape?
The Yokai was supposed to be inside the ward, and I had it in my grasp, but it disappeared right before my eyes.
Where did it run off to?!
Panicking, I looked around, not realizing that my father wasn’t responding.
“Calm down… Show me the talisman you have in your pocket.”
“What, why now?” I asked, bewildered, as my father lifted my coat and took out a talisman from the inner pocket.
It was a talisman that was infused with spiritual power before entering the room.
Though it was of low grade, Yokai, in general, are beings that emit gloom and impurities.
When there is a possibility of encountering Yokai, equipping oneself with a talisman that acts as an air purifier is necessary. It’s like a gas mask one uses in a dangerous zone.
So, what about it?
Rather than that, we need to find the escaped Yokai.
“The Yokai has been exterminated.”
“But I haven’t done anything yet.”
“It seems that it has been purged by this talisman.”
No, no, this talisman doesn’t have such a function.
It wasn’t written in the guidebook either. It should only have the effect of deterring Yokai from approaching, but it shouldn’t have the power to exterminate them.
“Your talisman is leaking spiritual power. That spiritual power may have affected the Yokai…”
Come to think of it, someone said something similar before.
But I thought that spiritual power itself didn’t have the power to defeat Yokai.
Hmm, is it pointless to think logically about Onmyodo, considering that the fundamental techniques are all a mystery?
There’s also the precedent of the tentacles.
“Is it possible that the Yokai escaped?”
“If the Yokai has been exterminated, it would turn into dust and disappear like that. It doesn’t have the power to break the ward. There is no possibility that it escaped.”
I-I see… That’s a relief.
It would have been a stain on my life as an Onmyoji if I had failed in my first task.
My father asked me, as I felt relieved.
“Tentacles?”
“Yeah.”
Upon hearing just that, Father seemed lost in thought.
That was understandable.
After all, I had successfully exorcised the Yokai without damaging the painting.
It was an unprecedented and remarkable achievement.
With the removal of the Yokai, the distorted painting returned to its original state.
We were able to safely preserve the cherished memories of Mamoru-kun’s happy family.
I am happy to be able to deliver good news to Mamoru-kun.
It could be called an unquestionable success in their first job.
My first job was an overwhelming success.
To my elated self, my father said.
“Don’t tell anyone about this job. Especially about protecting the painting.”
Huh, but I can’t wait to tell someone about it.
Such a thought crossed my mind, but considering his previous question, it was a natural instruction.
If I were to explain how I protected the painting from the Yokai, I would have to reveal the secret of my tentacles.
I could insist that it was the “Kyobe Family’s secret technique,” but I don’t know how far I would be able to resist the pressure from the association’s power.
Furthermore, when similar requests came in, if Father, who couldn’t use tentacles, found out, he would have to take me along.
It seemed unnecessary to attract attention to a kindergartener who can do what the head of the household couldn’t.
It won’t be a problem once I became an adult and could work actively.
Until then, I should refrain from anything that could lead to a leak of my techniques.
“Yeah, I understand.”
“…Good.”
I cheerfully replied, having understood Father’s thoughts, but what’s with that pause?
And so, my first job quietly came to an end.