Antique Shop?BEAR? - Chapter 50
Chapter 50 – Hanging Scarf
A week later, Sashima visited Iguchi in the hospital. Upon her regaining consciousness, Iguchi’s parents called Sashima to the hospital to apologize for the trouble they had inflicted on him since he had been bawling.
Her parents broke down in tears and expressed their gratitude, so Sashima patted them on the chest and made his way to Iguchi’s private room for a visit. She was sitting on her bed in her fuzzy yellow pajamas, apparently in good shape. When Sashima offered her a cake, she wore a joyful and sorrowful expression on her face.
“I’m sorry for the trouble… I don’t know why I did that…”
“Was something bothering you?”
“No.” Iguchi suddenly glanced at the computer on the bedside table and pointed to it. “I read the piece you submitted, Sashima. Did you write it with that shop in mind?”
“Yes. It turned out to be a good subject.”
“I knew it. Are you going to serialize it?”
“Yeah. Well, let’s talk about the novel later in the circle. Take care.”
Sashima opened “Yomikaki” on the train on his way home.
?Soul Eater Sora No Toka?
It was a few months ago that he heard rumors about that shop. The editor who was in charge of him, an unsuccessful writer, mentioned it to him.
“I heard a rumor about an interesting shop. No, please don’t go there, it’s a place you shouldn’t frequent.” The editor smirked. “You can buy any talent you want in that shop. But in exchange, you have to give your soul to the owner.”
He thought it was the kind of gossip a child would love.
“The shop is only open late at night and only to those who know about the rumor and are desiring it. It’s located by the river near Hosho Station.”
Hosho Station was within the vicinity of where he lived.
“You don’t seem to be able to come up with any new ideas lately. I thought this Japanese horror story might be a good idea.”
From then on, he started heading to Hosho Station late at night.
I need a talent for writing. I’m running out of ideas. I can’t even come up with an appealing character.
The day came abruptly.
It was a night of vast darkness, with no moon or stars in the sky.
While walking along the river, he stumbled upon a store with lanterns floating in the darkness. It was an old-fashioned Japanese-style house with a straw-thatched roof and a long porch. At the back of the porch, products were lined up on shelves, each one emitting a different light. What he was looking for… it was glowing brilliantly, enveloped by the burning pillar of fire.
The lanterns flickered as he approached.
A wooden sign with the word “Gift” carved into it read. Gift meant talent.
The owner was sweeping the storefront and turned around upon noticing him. There was no face. The shopkeeper was faceless. Furthermore, he was missing a leg and a hand, and his body seemed to be disfigured under his kimono. The owner beckoned to him, not concerned for his astonishment. Swallowing his saliva, he stepped into the store.
Once inside the store, he picked up the pillar of fire. To the touch it was as icy as orange slime.
All of a sudden, the owner shoved his hand into his mouth and penetrated deep into his body, pulling out his soul. Although he was unsure of what a soul was, he could feel that something had been extracted from him.
Not even a scream escaped him, and the whites of his eyes peeled back. The next thing he knew, he had a column of orange fire spewing down his throat.
A sensation of decay washed over his body. But more than that, delight swept through him.
When he exited the store, it was dark outside and the store had simply disappeared without a trace.
Taking a cab home, he began to work on his novel. Each time he wrote, his whole body felt like it was being torn apart. In the midst of immersing himself in it, his brain melted and all the words became distorted. The words invaded, nested, and robbed upon him. Even so, he wouldn’t cease writing.
Finally, when the writing was done, he slumped convulsively from his chair to the floor.
Ah, I’ve written a masterpiece… I can glimpse despair beyond the relief.
“From now on… Even though from now own…”
His internal organs dissolved and mingled with the blood. He thought a pillar of fire erupted from his mouth, but instead, blood was coughed up.
The day that he finished creating his absolute masterpiece, his death overtook him.
?????????
The faceless shopkeeper opened his mouth, which was shut earlier, and tossed his soul into it.
“Disgusting.”
The only thing he can devour is a tasteless human full of desire, but he’s slowly growing closer to human form. Once he is fully human, he will be able to feed on the best of them.
“To be continued.”
When he finished reading, Sashima closed “Yomikaki”.
As ever, it was not ranked in the horror genre. Nevertheless, such things were trivial. One’s own sparkle can only be expressed by oneself.
He could sense the heat burning up from within his body. The rest of the words were flooding his brain.
In his bag, a dark blue scarf was firmly placed.