Editing Mushi Uta:Volume 8 Chapter 1 (section)

== 1.00 Kirari and Momo ==
"Thank you very much."

She didn't hate the period of time that could be called dusk.

People went back the same road they'd taken this morning, albeit carrying the many things they have accumulated during the day.

There were many such things.

For a student it would be a day's worth of study, sports and the like, or perhaps experiencing love and friendship. When they passed by her, their form was perhaps a bit larger than it'd been that morning.

An adult would carry in their hearts that day's works and achivements, fatigue and stress, and the sense of accomplishment at having completed the day as they returned home. Or perhaps they would be going to town and have some fun.

"Thank you very much."

Ikarino Kirari was jealous of the people passing by her.

Both going back home from school while dreaming of the future and using her talents for one type of work were impossible for her.

The only future that awaited her was an enclosed one, where she would spend the entirety of her life admiring these people.

"Thank you very much."

On the sidewalk in the main street near the station, Kirari was handing out tissue papers to passersby.

Bangs that were cut diagonally from left to right and a star-shaped hairpin. A shirt with rolled sleeves and a long skirt over bondage pants. This appearance allowed her to melt in town. Young people who confused her to be a cosmetics store's employee sometimes received the tissue from her.

"Ah—"

She was pushed aside by an elderly salaryman, bumping into a group of middle aged women. Seeing Kirari's tissues, the women went "Oh my," after seeing them and snatched them.

Kirari quickly grabbed it back. The women's expressions changed.

"S-sorry. This, umm, has a misprint… please take this one."

She handed out a different tissue.

''—''Handyman Kirari☆'': disposal of unneeded items, renovation, investigation, etcetera, all of your needs will be immediately solved!''

The advertisement paper inserted into the tissues held by the housewives-seeming women had the above written on it.

However, the one Kirari took back had different text on it.

''—We also accept special troubles related to "insects".''

Kirari bowed.

"Thank you very much."

The housewives receiving the tissue mumbled "What's a handyman?" "Who knows…" as they exchanged glances.

"A handyman is, umm, a vendor that does anything, like helping and supporting all kinds of chores, that kind of company. We also offer detective work and other similar jobs…"

When she said the word "detective", the housewives all raised their brows. They glared at her suspiciously. "Young girls such as yourself mustn't do such things," they said while leaving.

Looking at them, Kirari sighed. That kind of assembled housewife alliance obviously hated people of Kirari's vocation. However, that was only outwardly, as in reality most of the troubles brought to her were almost always household-related requests from housewives. 

"Thank you ve—"

It happened just before she returned to delivering tissue papers.

The cardboard box she used for the stocks of tissues was kicked.

The tissues put into a plastic bag scattered, falling into the ditch behind.

"—"

Two brawny black-wearing men moved to both sides of Kirari. One of them had kicked the box. The emblem on their suits indicated them belonging to a certain corporation.

There was no one in the business world who didn't know the name of Akasegawa Group.

The founder, who raised the organization during his lifetime, suffered from a mysterious death a few years ago. Currently the founder's granddaughter, a young girl, served as the chairman, and was continually gaining more influence.

"…"

Kirari made no protest against the sudden violence. She simply leaned down wordlessly and started picking up the tissues from the ditch with the gaze of passersby focusing on her.

Raising the box smeared in mud, she left the place.

The men saw her go with a smirk on their face, but made no attempts to pursue her.

"Hey, you…"

She heard a gloomy voice just as someone grabbed her shoulder.

With the darkening sky at her back, a tall woman looked at Kirari. She was a beauty with silver highlights in her hair and slim limbs like those of a model. Her skin was tanned, so she probably wasn't fully Japanese.

The woman was wearing a suit made of some strange material. Glistening with the light of the sinking sun, its surface was like leather—or rather more like plastic. She apparently had quite the novel taste in fashion.

"I do not know your circumstances, but if you're receiving undeserved harassment, perhaps you should contact the police…"

The woman spoke in a melancholic tone, glancing at the suited men.

Kirari could unconsciously imagine the woman's vocation. Appearance-wise she seemed like some magician or performer, but her atmosphere was far too dark for that. From her way of speaking she seemed like a lawyer or a prosecutor—or perhaps she worked in the sacred profession of a teacher.

"Am I meddling too much?"

The woman looked at Kirari with eyes that had faint dark circles around them. Her especially sluggish movements looked somewhat creepy, but she was also alluring. She didn't look anything like her amicable words would indicate.

"No, thank you very much."

Smiling, Kirari bowed. Although the woman went to the trouble of warning her, Kirari left at a brisk pace without heeding to her advice.

She was a good person. Even in front of the scary-looking men she still offered a helping hand to a complete stranger; this kind of person was rare.

Kirari just didn't want to get that woman involved in her own personal problems.

She glanced behind her. While the men were staring at her, the woman started walking away with feigned ignorance. Her way of walking—dragging her feet behind her—resembled a zombie from some horror movie.

While feeling relieved, Kirari headed back home.

"Will I be able to make it this month?"

The money spent on acquiring tissues and creating the leaflets was nothing to be sneezed at. She was always in the red, but she still had to pay her part-timer and there were even the unplanned living expenses for the freeloader.

She managed to cut it close until now, but perhaps she needed to resolve herself to reality.

"Coatl Coatl—"

As she passed near middle-school girls who chatted among themselves, she heard them recite these incantation-like words.

Turning around, she saw a girl holding a pen drew something on her friend's hand.

It was the symbol of a diagonal, long arrow mark with two straight lines crossing it.

The charm of God that can make anything come true.

"…"

The girls' expression was bright, and they didn't seem to be holding any deep worries.

Seeing the mark being drawn with a smile, the crestfallen Kirari felt her heart warming up.

She smiled, starting to walk back home again.

"H-Hey!"

She really was being stopped by a lot of people today.

"Zwoah!"

Kirari turned around, then looked below.

Perhaps in too much of a rush, the person who called out to her fell flat on the ground. "Peh, peh, so bitter! Sand's bitter! That's my discovery of the day!" he started fussing, his face covered by scratches.

"I picked up this tissue! You're the one who handed it out, right?"

The boy stood up without borrowing Kirari's hand. When he did, she could see he was wearing a blazer with many fasteners on it. With the glasses that held back his bangs she could see that his face was neat, but it all went to waste due to the sand. He carried a large bag made of something resembling leather.

"Can I ask you about this? What does this mean? I mean this right here!"

The boy, seeming about 16 or 17 years old, put the tissue right in front of Kirari's nose.

''—We also accept special troubles related to "insects".''

These words were written on the mud-smeared tissue.

"What do you mean by, what does this mean?"

Tilting her neck, Kirari watched the boy carefully. Being asked a question in return, the boy's shoulders twitched and he became even less calm. Averting his gaze, he nervously hit his tip of his shoes against the ground.

"Well, I mean, there are all kinds of insect! Like a white ant or a bee nest… basically pests? No, but we also need them to live! But there are also other kinds of… insects. …There's that ''thing'', right? You know it? It's just a rumor, but aren't there some strange 'Mushi' of some sort? Ahaha, I don't believe it though!"

Even while he was in the midst of speaking, the boy's tapping on the ground with the tip of his shoe only grew in speed.

"…Mushitsuki."

When Kirari muttered this, the boy stopped moving. A large amount of sweat poured from his forehead.

"U-umm, yeah, I think it was like that? Aha, ahaha, it's such a weird rumor. Mushi eating dreams… really? B-but, I—no, my acquaintance, apparently got involved in something like that! But, there're no Mushi, right? I told them not to make fun of my innocence! Even if we're friends! C'mon!"

"…"

"But, well, no matter how rotten they are, friends are still friends. I can't leave my friend alone, or he'll get too antsy. Get it? Ant-sy? Ahaha!"

"…"

"No, wait! I'm actually talking about a friend of a friend! Yeah, I'm not related to this at all—oh, I'm sorry! Never mind that! Please forget it!"

Watching the silent Kirari, the boy seemed to be resigned to something. He turned his body around.

He was somewhat strange, but at the very least the boy didn't seem to be someone dangerous. She smiled and called to him.

"Perhaps I will be able to give you advice. If you just give me some more details—"

"Oh, you want to know? Then I've got no choice!"

Rotating his body again, the boy returned to Kirari.

"But it's just a friend of a friend! That guy apparently trades with anything he can get as a hobby! And he apparently got something troublesome!"

"Face too close… your face is…"

"He got this video that shows off Mushitsuki! Like some kinda footage that got transmitted through an amateur satellite or something… well, it's all special effects anyway, but it's definitely something rare! Or so I casually thought when I saw it, but… it's like, jackpot! The moment I got it, it's untraceable! Then this SEPB or whatever came to me—I mean, to the guy who got it and started pressuring him, so he had to run away!"

"You're too loud. My ears hurt…"

"He's about to be killed by a strange coat-wearing Mushitsuki and the account he worked so hard on accumulating money in got frozen… What's he supposed to do? This is some really tear-inducing story, right? I honestly can’t…"

His voice suddenly dropping, the boy covered his face with his hands. There were tears in the eyes peeking through between his fingers.

She understood what the boy was saying.

He got involved in Mushi-related trouble by chance and was scared out of his wits.

"What was that data you spoke of?"

"It's my trade secret, but whatever, I guess I can't avoid talking about it. Anyway, that video had many Mushitsuki in it… and also a normal Mushitsuki… and in the end there was a really large Mushi. Oh, there was also an interview of some Demon Lord or—"

"Demon Lord? And Mushitsuki?"

"She was a normal person. No, was she normal? Anyway, well, there was a scary Mushitsuki, a nice Mushitsuki and… and some normal, scary person. There were many interviews—"

The boy's frantic explanation was incoherent so she couldn't really picture it.

"Could you tell where it was filmed? Was it really not special effects but the real thing?"

"In my expert opinion, it's real. You can't create that sorta footage. —I don't know where it was filmed. But the person who shot it also spoke in the video, and she called herself Chronicler."

"Chronicler?"

Kirari knew a person of that name.

The self-proclaimed genius journalist, Haemori Ako—

It might be simple coincidence, but perhaps she'd need to contact her later.

"Can you not simply throw away that data?"

"Sure, but it's rare. It's a waste."

"…"

"It's too rare… since it's the only one, it's too much of a trouble."

The boy raised his leather bag and smiled.

"Also, now I don't understand which are scarier, Mushitsuki or normal people… I have to sell this to someone who'd know the answer!"

"I think your life's more important though…"

"That's right! I just barely got it and things got scary! I really wanna throw that away! But I don't wanna! What should I do?! My legs are shaking! Even though this is not about me!"

Kirari sighed, but still smiled.

Although the boy was scared, he seemed to be weirdly obsessed about it. Such people were very stubborn and would stick to their beliefs even when facing death.

"If you have no—"

"No no. It's not me. That's important. Please underline that part."

"If ''that person'' has no place to go to, and wants to escape the SEPB…"

Writing a phone number in her memo pad, she tore the page and handed it to the boy.

"A telephone number?"

"Please contact this number. I believe that the people called Mushibane would help you."

"Even a complete stranger like me—I mean, someone they don't know?"

"Just tell them you were referred to them by the handyman. It's a group of Mushitsuki and normal people."

"Are they perhaps dangerous people… or something?"

"Some of them fight, but they also help those who don't want to fight. Perhaps you will also be able to go back to your normal life on the surface."

Saying this as the boy glared at the piece of paper, she bowed.

"Thank you for using our services."

"W-wait a minute! I need to thank you… or maybe pay you for that introduction?"

All requests that could be said to be Mushi-related were done by Kirari as a mere side job. Unlike he normal requests, she had no goal of making money.

"As for my payment—"

With a smile, she raised her index finger toward the boy.

She drew on air a single arrow and two lines intersecting with it.

The charm of God that can make anything come true.

"Coatl Coatl Para Emile."

As she recited this chant, the boy raised an eyebrow.

"Is that…? I think that—"

"Please spread this spell. …To as many people as you can."

"Is it really fine, being just that?"

She nodded at the boy's question.

It was probably a completely incomprehensible wish to him. For Kirari, however, spreading the charm would be an almost irreplaceable reward.

"T-thank you."

Thanking her with a confused expression, the boy took his bag on his back again.

"—I'll do what you told me to, but I really don't get it. I'll pay you properly some time."

It was unmistakable that the boy was in an unfortunate situation.

Getting involved with Mushitsuki and all sorts of troubles, even for him these events were incomprehensible.

But there was still salvation.

Kirari thought of the Mushitsuki born in this town.

"Please spread the charm… to many people."

She mumbled again toward the back of the leaving boy.

The Mushitsuki born in this town—

This Mushitsuki, bearing their unfortunate fate, no longer existed in this world.

There was no other way to help them than erasing their existence.

After being born so absurdly, there was no choice but to put them to sleep underneath a gravestone. Recalling what she'd seen at that moment, Kirari felt her heart throbbing in pain.

"…"

Shaking off the painful reminiscence, Kirari turned on her heels.

Only a handful of people knew about the Mushitsuki that had disappeared that day.

The usual peace flowed in town.

Just like it was until now, the days of tranquility continued.

In order for Kirari to pass these calm days, she simply did the best she could.

"…"

Her office was at the end of the main road where there weren't many people or neon lights.

This building complex with many vacant apartments had cracks on the walls and the elevator was inoperative. All of the lights in the stairway were flickering, and there was the smell of mold everywhere.

When she opened the mailbox at the entrance she found a large envelope inside. The sender was the building's owner, meaning the landlord that lent the office to Kirari.

Opening the letter and checking its contents, she was notified that she was behind on payments. There was also information about getting evicted.

"…"

She wordlessly hid the letter inside the cardboard box.

Her legs climbing the stairs felt heavier than usual. She told herself that she was simply tired.

The rusty office door had a plate saying "Handyman Kirari☆ OPEN" on it.

She thought she turned it to CLOSE when she'd left. When she tried the knob, she found that the door was open.

Slipping past the door, there was a space for putting shoes next to it. Immediately ahead was a door made of smoky glass, and the stand beside it had a classical-style buzzer installed on it.

Kirari opened the glass door, going through the corridor.

"…?"

Entering the living room, she saw a strange sight.

The fact that there were shelves loaded with documents on the visitor-use sofa and table was normal. Her clients' first impression was important, so she splurged and got high-quality furnishings for this room alone.

There were two people in the living room.

One was the familiar part-timer girl. Her vivid, grass-colored jersey fit her, but she raised both arms as if saluting to something, completely frozen.

The other was the wounded man. He was the boy covered in bandages from head to foot.

"Ah, umm… welcome back."

Surprised, the boy sitting on the sofa turned to Kirari. Despite being so heavily wounded his tone was clear. He apparently had a sturdy body.

"Are you alright, Daisuke-san?"

When Kirari asked him this, Kusuriya Daisuke wore a bitter smile.

"I can't calm down when I'm just sitting without doing anything."

"I see."

Although she had coincidentally—no, probably inevitably saved him from near death, she still hadn't asked him for the particulars of his circumstances. She thought it'd be fine to inquire that sort of thing once his wounds stabilized.

The two of them went silent. Naturally the two lines of sight turned toward the frozen girl.

"'A run-over frog'?"

After thinking for a while, Kirari pointed at her and said.

The girl made no move.

"A mongoose going scuba-diving!"

Kirari tried guessing the theme with a serious expression.

"N-no. Then… a scared American Curl!"

"A wallaby imitating a pro-wrestler!"

"Woof no! …wait, no! Stop saying all these small animals!"

The girl suddenly moved. She hit the bandage in her hand against the floor with a slap.

Apparently she had been nursing Daisuke before freezing.

"I can't believe it, yeah!"

Did she have a row with Daisuke?

She shouted indignantly and then grabbed the newspaper left on the table. She took out a roll of plastic tape from the pouch at her waist and pasted the newspaper to the wall.

"W-what is it…?"

"Don't mind it. She does this from time to time."

Hiding the box she was carrying at a corner of the room, Kirari entered the bedroom.

Inside the narrow room were only a bed, a personal computer, and a standing mirror. Since the outside of the window had a gap of a mere dozen centimeters from the next building she couldn't see the starry sky.

Opening her closet, she found many articles of clothing hanging within. Kirari pulled out a white outfit and changed to it, exiting to the living room again.

The jersey-wearing girl wore an uncharacteristic serious expression while fighting the newspaper. She ran the cello tape haphazardly all over it, covering the entire wall with it.

"Mm."

Getting down on her knees in front of the sofa, Kirari started changing the boy's bandages.

Daisuke looked confused.

"Say—"

"Hmm?"

"Well, I also want to ask about that girl since I have no idea what she's doing, but why are you… umm…"

Daisuke was glancing at Kirari's clothes, finding it hard to speak. Did his face turn red due to him being an adolescent boy?

"Wearing such a costume…?"

Being told this, Kirari looked down at her clothes—a nurse outfit.

"Do you prefer other clothes? I just thought it fits best since I'm going to nurse you… If you think my regular school uniform is better I also have it—"

"That's not what I meant… no, that's fine. Stay like that."

The relieved Kirari started wrapping the bandage around the boy's arm.

"What's this place anyway…?"

The boy mumbled.

Kirari, who applied bandages while wearing a nurse outfit, and the girl who was zealously covering the walls with newspaper.

Being put between them, Kusuriya Daisuke felt somewhat uncomfortable.

"Handyman Kirari☆. A company dealing with miscellaneous jobs that accepts any request. I'm the owner… and this girl became a part-timer after I got to know her on a previous request."

Until yesterday, Kusuriya Daisuke couldn't even move from the bed. Whenever he opened his eyes he would soon fall asleep, so this was the first explanation he received about his situation.

"Handyman…"

Even without seeing his face, it was obvious Daisuke was furrowing his brows.

In this day and age there weren't a lot of general shops and troubleshooters. The fact that a 17 years-old girl managed this place was also probably rare. Actually, there were times when customers would leave upon discovering that fact.

"Well, we're a small company with many failures though."

"So, miss Handyman—"

The boy's voice suddenly turned low. Stopping her hands, she gazed at Daisuke's face.

"Why do you know me?"

His piercing, sharp eyes bore into Kirari. Even his way of speaking changed.

Kirari grinned.

"I have heard about you…"

"From who?"

"Haji Keigo-san. You know him, right?"

Hearing that name, Daisuke momentarily furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

She was sure they were acquaintances, but Daisuke's reply was too faint for what she expected. Or was he surprised that Kirari and Haji knew each other?

"He told me he was your friend. Well, and your boss."

"Oh, Haji. I see, it was him…"

Daisuke mumbled, finally appearing to understand.

[[File:Mushi Uta 8 p065.jpg|thumb]]

"He'd helped me in the past when I got into trouble. He told me that it wasn't in return for that, but that if you ever needed me, I should help you."

"Help me…?"

"More precisely he said 'on the unlikely chance that you meet him, please do as much as you can to make his wish come true', I think."

''—Well, because he's not going to be honest about it.''

She could still clearly remember Haji's thin smile as he said this.

''—Even if you do meet him, I don't know if he'd have any wish. If he doesn't say anything you don't have to help him. Meaning this is a mere "insurance".''

That young man, who would habitually fix the position of his glasses, became her benefactor when she'd lost her path, helping her finding her place as a handyman. Haji Keigo had also been the one to find this current office for her.

"My wish…"

He sank into his thoughts.

"Will you let me—stay here for a while, at least until my wounds heal?"

Although she'd heard he wasn't honest, he unexpectedly and readily mouthed his wish.

Perhaps humans were always honest when they were weak. Since she was going to take care of him in the first place there was no problem.

She had more than enough time.

The menace that had once suddenly appeared in town—the danger relating to the Mushitsuki who should have never been born—had already passed.

She believed that this once-again uninterrupted daily life would be good for the healing of his wounds.

"I don't mind, of course… but are satisfied with just this?"

"I can sleep either on the floor or on the sofa. I'm also sorry for occupying the bed."

Seeing Daisuke suddenly wearing an apologetic face, Kirari's face slackened.

"It's just like Haji-san told me. Except when you hide your face with black goggles, you're just a normal boy. I was worried you have a split personality or something."

"I-it's not like I have a split personality…"

Turning away, Daisuke wore a complex expression.

"I just ended up not knowing anymore who my real self was…"

The lone person called Kusuriya Daisuke.

He probably had other titles in addition to that. Kirari didn't know whether he himself wished for them or if they'd been thrust upon him.

There'd probably come a time when he'd have to choose which of them was his real self—

She thought of such things.

"HEY, YOU!"

This loud voice suddenly speaking in English caused Kirari and Daisuke to raise their face.

"PLEASE LISTEN TO ME! NO, NO, umm, look, I mean SEE? WATCH? WATCH ME? Huh? H-hey, don't look at me with those pitying eyes! I know my English sucks, yeah!"

The girl with a splash of poster paint on her face had a curious symbol behind her.

She drew a large mark on the papers pasted on the wall. This symbol made of black paint could be called an art piece.

This strange mark consisted of a diagonal arrow pointing downward and two lines crisscrossing it.

It also resembled an asterisk, but was slightly different.

"IT'S, 'COATL HEAD'!"

Pounding at the mark that was larger than she was tall, the girl puffed her chest. Her palms were dripping with red paint, perhaps as a result of directly painting it with her hands.

Her name was Tanaka Momo.

She'd just enrolled into an art school at her home district, and she was a friend of Kirari's.

Speaking of bipolarity, Momo was exactly like that. When she focused on something, she turned into another person as if in a trance.

The stunned Daisuke opened his mouth hesitatingly.

"Coatl… Head?"

"OH, NO!"

Momo spoke back as if it was the end of the world. That pose—the "dachshund who had its food taken right before its eyes" that they'd seen before—was apparently shock at Daisuke not knowing the meaning of Coatl Head.

"Do you really not know it? Coatl Head! The mark beckoning happiness! It's the symbol of God, yeah!"

Half-crying for some reason, she hit the wall violently. More red spots were created on the newspapers.

Daisuke looked at Kirari as if seeking help.

"Umm—"

"Wait, Kirarin! If you explain it to him directly it'd be like a divine revelation!"

Momo said, raising her hands dyed in pure red toward the ceiling.

"Coatl Head refers to the fad of drawing a certain symbol which is all the rage nowadays! It trends especially among teens with many troubles and worries, such as love and the like, since it can solve any and all troubles!"

Even while receiving this deluge of an explanation, Daisuke was still confused. "Momo-chan's also addicted now," Kirari added.

"The method of the charm is simple! Neither the place nor the medium matter! You just need to draw this symbol, put your feelings in it and chant!"

Momo turned to the wall painting, folded her hands in front of her chest, and spoke.

"Coatl Coatl Para Emile!"

After reciting this with prayer-like gestures, Momo's expression suddenly softened.

"If I do that, then… my chest suddenly feels warm. Isn't that a happy feeling?"

The girl turning toward them did seem to be satisfied.

"No, no really… or rather, you just look like a weirdo."

The profile of Daisuke providing his honest impression now had red paint smeared on it.

Having lowered the bottle full of art supplies, Momo grinned.

"This is divine punishment, yeah."

Wiping off the paint from half his face and looking at it, Daisuke also grinned.

"…What're you doing, you idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot, I'm Momo-chan! Or it would be even better if you add 'sama'! Kirarin, as punishment let's throw him out of the window! I thought he was kinda good-looking when we found him, but that was my mistake, yeah!"

Leaving the pair to start their fight while flinging paint-filled bottles at each other, Kirari went to look for a dust cloth in the washing room.