Not a detective

Page 46

“Meaningless? Perhaps it is meaningless in your eyes, or perhaps it is just my wishful thinking and self-satisfaction, but I still think it is very important. This is my principle. Yukie did nothing wrong. She should die right and should not be sacrificed under any circumstances. I only punish evil people, and I will not do wrong things in order to save others.”

"Then you're a fool too." Black Snow's final words, without pleading or screaming, were a meaningful statement: "A fool just like that girl—"

"Yes."

When Asakawa Riku tore the shadow in two, the melting blood covered his body, as if it were concealing his own weeping.

He sat in the soft snow, the boy, his face stained red, and remained silent for a long time before muttering to himself, "The snow has stopped."

Behind him, the shrine maiden smiled and gently embraced him, warming him with her own body heat.

In the distance, the white-haired girl calmly observed everything, her eyes still empty and lifeless.

It slipped through my fingers, and the chill gradually disappeared.

"Summer...it really shouldn't snow."

For some reason, I started to feel intensely envious of her.

Snow Woman's Summer: Snow Woman's Summer After 1

"It's time to end it."

"Yes, it should have ended long ago..."

"But why isn't it over yet?"

"You'll see when you look."

In the woods, an elderly man and a middle-aged man walked one after the other, chatting casually.

The blazing sun shines through the gaps in the trees, and you can feel the heat rising from the ground. The incessant chirping of cicadas provides a constant accompaniment, making it feel like everything has returned to the height of summer.

That blizzard seemed to have never happened.

“Look—” the old man pointed in the direction.

It was an open space, an open space that appeared abruptly in the dense forest; or rather, it was man-made.

In the middle of the open space, no, at the very center, stood a boy.

The boy's shoulders were slumped, his hands were down, and his eyes were closed. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, completely relaxed, as if he were sleeping standing up. He was motionless and extremely quiet.

Sunlight shone on half of his face, outlining his handsome profile and features. He seemed oblivious to what was happening around him, like a still sculpture.

"Fifteen hours, I think." The middle-aged man pulled a pocket watch from inside his yukata to check the time. "It's already the second day. Whether it succeeded or not, we can't let him continue any longer. He needs to eat something, or he'll faint from hunger..."

"You still don't understand what I mean." The old man bent down and picked up a small stone from the ground.

Whoosh—he threw it at the boy.

Snapped.

Suddenly, the stone disappeared in mid-air. Just as it was about to hit the boy, something seemed to happen, as if it entered some other dimension.

"What...!" The middle-aged man opened his mouth in surprise, as if he had swallowed the stone.

"Let's do it again, and you need to look carefully."

Upon hearing this, he had to become serious. He removed the black eye patch covering his left eye and stared intently at the empty space.

Another stone flew past with a "whoosh" and then disappeared into thin air.

The middle-aged man suddenly took a step back, his footsteps crunching on the fallen leaves in the mud, as if he were dodging a stone.

“This…” He saw it vaguely this time.

The stone didn't disappear magically the instant it flew past; instead, the boy's body moved.

He raised his hand, flicked his finger, shattered the stone into powder, and then lowered his hand, returning to his original state.

The entire process was so fast that perhaps only high-speed photography slowed it down by dozens of times could capture it. To outsiders, he remained in a drooping, sleeping posture the whole time.

This is the result of "simplified movements" to the extreme. The boy doesn't need to open his eyes or turn around; he can judge the direction of the stone just by the sound. He doesn't dodge with effort either. Instead, he raises his hand in the shortest distance and flicks his finger with the least effort, completing the movement between just two points without any unnecessary connections. It's a complete "power-saving mode".

"It's like... the body's natural reaction, is it instinct?" the middle-aged man sighed.

The next second, his expression changed from admiration to astonishment, because the boy turned around.

Although he still didn't open his eyes, the mere act of turning to the side conveyed an invisible pressure, as if a hunter had pinpointed the location of his prey.

Two pebbles are enough to determine the direction the attacker came from.

"Don't worry, he hasn't woken up yet," the old man reassured the middle-aged man, but stopped throwing stones.

The middle-aged man slowly retracted his foot, still shaken: "I've heard that in the era of swords and spears, there was a concept of 'circle.' For example, holding a sword and turning it around is called 'sword circle,' which is the area where a person can attack and defend, a safe zone and a dangerous zone. So-called combat is the collision of two circles. According to this logic, turning a spear around is 'spear circle,' turning a hand axe around is 'axe circle'... But I never thought that with both hands empty, such a domain space could be created."

"That's like his state of alert. Even if he's asleep, his body is still awake and will automatically go into standby mode to eliminate any threats that come near."

The older man's explanation was simpler and easier to understand: "You see, a wild animal tried to attack him, and that's the result—"

Following the line of sight, one could see the carcasses of several wild animals lying at the boy's feet.

This clearing in the woods was entirely his own creation; the fallen trees and leveled weeds were all the result of his unintentional actions…

No one can set foot there.

"That's why I didn't dare to wake him up. Do you think it's something that can be solved by just walking over and patting him?"

“But we can’t just leave it here unattended…” The middle-aged man sighed, looking very troubled: “I thought it would be easier to solve if his inspiration was low.”

“A low level of inspiration means being easily influenced by the supernatural, but it doesn’t mean you’re easily killed by the supernatural.”

The elderly man paused for a moment, then said meaningfully, "Have you seen Inception?"

The middle-aged man paused for a moment: "As a monster, the examples you gave are much more fashionable than mine..."

"Don't talk nonsense. It says that 'if you are killed in a dream, the person outside will also really die.' It means that the dream is too real. Once you die, the brain will recognize and transmit the death signal, deceiving the body to declare that it has given up, and then the person will enter a state of brain death. Although the principle is not quite right, it is basically correct."

The old man pointed to the boy in the center of the open space: "But his situation is different. I've observed him for a few days and found that he's completely immersed in that dream, showing no sign of waking up. This should be very dangerous, but I felt something was off, so I didn't forcibly interrupt the process. If he died in the dream, he probably wouldn't really die. His body would take over his consciousness first, in turn waking his brain. The deceived soul would become the second priority, undergoing self-cleaning before returning to normal. It's as if he has a disinfection software installed in his body, constantly checking and repairing itself. His bones, flesh, and soul are independent yet closely connected, a state completely different from that of a normal human. Even I can't fully see it clearly. On the contrary, after a while, he might completely take over that dream... He's adapting..."

An incredulous look came over: "What kind of monster did you bring into your home?"

"Haha, actually it's not me...it's my good-for-nothing daughter..."

The middle-aged man gave an awkward laugh. He wanted to change the subject, but he just stood there dumbfounded, waiting.

I could only force a conversation: "By the way, about that thing today—"

"and many more."

This sentence was interrupted.

"He's awake."

Snow Woman's Summer: Snow Woman's Summer After 2

"Is it okay to just eat that?"

"It's okay, this is fine."

As Asakawa Riku answered, he put a spoonful of cream into his mouth.

...

After opening his eyes, he stared at the two people in the woods for a moment. After a silent exchange of glances, his first words were unexpected:

"Please give me some food." That was his first sentence.

Asakawa Riku's order requirements are: 1. Something with a summery feel, 2. Desserts, 3. Preferably with fruit.

He had spent too long in that cold winter and wanted to get rid of that memory and return to this summer; he wanted dessert because he had been eating salted meat all the time and wanted a change of pace.

As for why fruit, it's because he needs to supplement his vitamins.

Finally, a woman who looked a lot like Chizuko-senpai came up with the plate. She was practically like Chizuko's older sister, and she was also a stunning beauty. She smiled and introduced the "Summer Limited Tropical Fruit Parfait" that she had made herself, and greeted us warmly as "Asakawa-san," saying that we were welcome to come here anytime.

If it weren't for the fact that this person had long hair and was also taller, Asakawa Riku would have suspected that Chizuko had deliberately disguised herself to prank him.

The dessert before him perfectly met his requirements, and its size was extravagant, nearly thirty centimeters tall. The inverted cone-shaped ice cream cup was filled with a variety of colorful fruits, the spaces between them crammed full of cream, cream cheese, jelly, and tortilla chips. White cream and cream cheese, red jelly, and vibrant fruits—the different colors of the ingredients were layered together like a rainbow. The parfait had five layers, with glimpses of golden tortilla chips visible in the middle, and the clear lines separating each layer made it look absolutely beautiful.

A towering mountain of cream sits in the center of the glass, its rim adorned with a ring of mangoes, pineapples, cantaloupes, water, bananas, and watermelons. A cranberry and a blueberry are cleverly placed atop the mountain. It seems there's a hidden compartment inside, perhaps a giant scoop of ice cream.

"Chizuko really liked this, so I made it without permission. There's a trick to eating it: you have to finish the watermelon first, because watermelon and cream don't taste together at all."

Before leaving, the woman gave a special reminder.

"Understood, thank you."

Riku Asakawa finally understood where Chizuko-senpai's love for desserts and superb cooking skills came from. Without any hesitation, he picked up the watermelon and ate it as instructed.

The taste was refreshing. After finishing the preparations, he used that ridiculously long ice cream scoop to start digging up the mountain.

His nonchalant attitude made the two people on either side of the long table feel somewhat awkward, but they didn't want to interrupt him immediately, so they had to wait a while.

Until someone finally lost patience.

“I am Kazamatsuri Akihisa, the priest and head priest of this shrine. The lady just now was my wife.”

The middle-aged man introduced himself first: "Chizuko and Yukie are both my daughters."

He was a middle-aged man between thirty and forty years old, wearing a dark gray bathrobe with a narrow belt, indicating that he hadn't gained weight yet, or rather, he was rather thin. At first glance, he had a somewhat "withered" air about him, but not in a sickly way; rather, it was his natural appearance. His long face gave him a serious look, and you could see the charm he had when he was young, only that he was a bit unkempt now.

He had an unkempt stubble and messy hair, looking nothing like an office worker; he probably hadn't been out in a long time. A conspicuous black eye patch covered his right eye.

“I can’t see anything in my right eye.” Noticing Asakawa Riku’s gaze, he lifted the eye patch, revealing a horrifying void beneath, devoid of any organs or lenses.

"I am Asakawa Riku, hello."

Asakawa Riku did not react. He paused what he was doing and calmly bowed, saying, "You should already know me."

It seems that the person who made the dessert just now was Chizuko's mother.

"Yes, Asakawa-kun, Chizuko often mentions you at home."

There was a hint of bitterness in his father's words. He turned his head and introduced the elderly people sitting at the other end of the long table:

"This monk... you can call him the sect leader for now."

"Bald head?" Asakawa Riku bit the spoon.

“It’s alright. I was going to tell him the truth anyway. Kid, I am [Baku].

The old man took off his large woven bamboo hat, revealing a smooth, shiny bald head. Sure enough, coupled with the robe that looked like a kasaya, he was an old monk.

He stared with interest at Asakawa Riku eating his parfait, his face crinkling with laughter: "You're so calm. Don't you want to know what exactly happened here?"

"...When I heard your name, my deduction was already 90% confirmed."

Asakawa Riku's hand paused; he had finally dug out the scoop of ice cream hidden in the whipped cream: "Baku, is a yokai that controls [dreams], right?"

Tapirs are mammals belonging to the order Perissodactyla and the family Tapiridae. They are adept swimmers and divers, herbivores, and shy, reclusive tropical rainforest animals, generally living in South America. They look somewhat like wild boars, about the size of a donkey, but are characterized by their long noses, some of which can even extend or retract...

But what I'm about to talk about has nothing to do with real animals; the "Baku" in legends is a completely different kind of monster.

Legend has it that on every moonlit night, the dream-eating tapir sets out from the deep forest to the lands where people live, feeding on their nightmares. The tapir emits a soft, lullaby-like call, lulling humans to sleep, before slowly and steadily absorbing their nightmares, one by one, into its pouch. After devouring the nightmares, the tapir quietly returns to the forest to continue its mysterious life.

Even Riku Asakawa had heard some rumors about the yokai that feed on dreams.

"Yes, devouring dreams can also bring back the devoured dreams. This is a power I can possess."

The old monk answered Asakawa Riku's question decisively.

Looking at that kind and benevolent Buddha-like appearance, it's almost impossible to discern the shape of a monster, nor does it resemble a long-nosed creature; it's almost indistinguishable from a real person.

—I can actually see monsters now? And I can even talk to and communicate with them.

Asakawa Riku couldn't help but wonder if his inspiration had increased, or if the other person had possessed the monk's body.

But now is not the time to ask these questions.

Now there are more urgent and pressing questions to ask.

He swallowed the large spoonful of ice cream he had just scooped up, feeling a sharp, icy sting in his throat, as if he were back in the snowstorm:

"So, what happened over the past fifteen days all happened in my dreams, right?"

Snow Woman's Summer: Snow Woman's Summer After 3

Looking back now, there are actually many flaws in this fifteen-day experience.

Suddenly getting lost on the mountain road, Chizuko and Torii disappearing without a trace, the mountains that can't be left no matter how hard you run, and the endless ghost wall.