It was starting to get late, so Viora had to leave the graveyard. Surprisingly, Umeboshi proposed walking her home to make sure nothing happened to her along the way.
The once-crowded street was now enveloped in silence.
"How old are you, anyway, mister?" Viora asked, breaking the quiet.
Walking alongside her with a nonchalant expression, Umeboshi replied, "Eighteen years old. And I told you to stop calling me 'mister.' Just call me Umeboshi or Bokujō no Tatsu, like everyone else in the graveyard…"
Viora tilted her head up sharply to look at the spirit's face, straining slightly because he was well over six feet tall while she barely stood at four feet nine.
"You're clearly not eighteen years old. You're so silly for thinking I'd believe that!" she scoffed, her voice tinged with amusement. "When did you die?"
As she spoke, she absentmindedly kicked an empty can that was lying in her path, watching it clatter down the empty street.
Bokujō no Tatsu took a long pause before responding. The two of them walked in awkward silence, the faint sound of their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. It was as if he was embarrassed to answer the young girl's question.
Finally, in a low voice, he said,
"I died in 1982…"
The young girl looked at him with an expression Umeboshi could only describe as a mix of judgment and disgust. Before he could say anything, she pulled out her phone, tapping away at it with quick, deliberate motions.
"When you died in 1982, you were eighteen years old. That means you'd be 51 years old right now," she said, glancing up from her phone. "And that also means you've spent 33 years as a thug who not only wasted his life but is now wasting his death as well. Pretty silly if you ask me…"
Her words were sharp, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and scorn.
Umeboshi, visibly outraged, grabbed the young girl by the hoodie of her school uniform, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. Her feet dangled as she stared at him in surprise.
"How dare you!" he bellowed, his wooden staff clutched tightly in one hand. "I was being nice to you earlier! I even invited you to join us for poker after that shaman completely humiliated you! And this is how you repay me? Insulting my pride like that?"
His expression was a mix of mock anger and genuine frustration, though his grip on her hoodie remained firm yet harmless.
Still dangling in the air, Viora flailed her arms slightly, her voice panicked but laced with sarcasm as she said, "Come on, calm down! I was just joking—no need to get mad… okay?"
Her tone made it clear she wasn't taking Umeboshi's anger seriously, even as her feet swung helplessly above the ground.
Umeboshi squinted at her, his lips twitching in a battle between frustration and amusement. "Oh, you think this is funny, huh?" he said, shaking her lightly, though not hard enough to be harmful.
"Very funny!" Viora quipped back, trying to suppress a nervous laugh, but her grin gave her away.
Umeboshi sighed heavily, shaking his head in mock exasperation before gently setting Viora back down on the ground. As he straightened up, he slung his wooden staff over his right shoulder, its familiar weight resting there as if it were an extension of himself.
"Anyway," he said, his tone softening slightly, "there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Let's walk and talk."
as they walked, Viora could sense that Umeboshi was being unusually serious. She glanced up at him, a bit unsettled, and asked,
"What's wrong? Still mad about earlier? I said I was sorry."
Umeboshi shook his head, his expression remaining calm but firm.
"It's not that… Hah, it's not my style to beat around the bush, so I'll just get to the point. I agree with the other brat—you shouldn't come."
Viora froze for a moment, the words hitting her harder than she expected. The silence between them stretched on as she processed what he had just said, giving Umeboshi more time to think.
"In the beginning," he thought to himself, "I really didn't care. If you can see spirits, even if it's just as blurry figures, you've got to be out of the ordinary. So, her joining us wouldn't be a problem—or so I thought. But after getting to know her personality a little better, I get it now. I get why the brat doesn't want her to come..."
But then, abruptly, Viora spoke, her voice steady and determined:
"I'll come no matter what, even without Cyrus's acknowledgment."
Umeboshi's face remained impassive at the young girl's declaration. He continued walking, his wooden staff resting casually on his right shoulder. After a moment, he let out a sigh and said,
"You're even more stubborn than I thought... and I thought the other brat was overreacting. You really can't give up, can you?"
Viora crossed her arms as she walked, her pace steady but her determination evident. "I mean, if I take down the spirit first, he'll have no choice but to acknowledge me as his rightful partner in crime," she said with a smirk.
Umeboshi, still strolling with his usual nonchalant demeanor, glanced at her briefly and replied, "You really want to be his friend that much? Doesn't he always treat you like crap?"
Viora shoved her hands into her pockets, lowering her head slightly as if to shield herself from the weight of her own thoughts. Her voice softened but held steady as she said, "People who can see spirits... they can't be bad people."
Umeboshi raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her statement. "And why do you believe that?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Viora lifted her head, her gaze fixed on the glowing moon above. Its light bathed her face as she spoke, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of emotion.
"People often say to live your life the way you want, like it's your last day on Earth, so when you're on your deathbed, you won't have any regrets in the afterlife. But when you can see spirits... you realize why you have to live a good life."
She paused for a moment, letting her words settle before continuing. "Most of these spirits I see... They all have miserable looks on their faces. Some of them lived their whole lives—and now their afterlives—in so much pain and regret that all they can do is laugh to cope with their circumstances. When you can see spirits like that, you start to understand how important it is to treat people well. Because who knows? You might be the reason why a spirit can't move on, stuck in misery and bound to a single place."
Umeboshi continued walking, his grip on his wooden staff loosening slightly as he stared ahead. "That's a strange way to think," he muttered, though his tone lacked any hint of dismissal.
Viora shrugged, her face unreadable in the dim moonlight. "Maybe. But it's what I believe."
As they continued along the lonely street, the faint outline of her "house" finally came into view. It stood there like a reminder of her transient life, a place that wasn't truly hers but served as a temporary haven.
Breaking the silence, Umeboshi glanced up at the moon, his expression thoughtful. "I wonder if I fit the description of any of the spirits you mentioned."
Viora shrugged at the spirit's question, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Who knows? From my perspective, your face is blurry. I have to really focus to distinguish facial expressions on spirits, but I can still sense their emotions."
She paused, shoving her hands into her pockets as her pace slowed slightly. "Besides," she added with a hint of vulnerability, "I didn't come up with this belief on my own."
Her voice trailed off, leaving Umeboshi to glance at her curiously. Though he didn't press, the weight of her words lingered between them, hanging in the quiet night air as they approached her house.
They reached her doorway, a beautiful dark red door that stood out in the dim light.
"We're here," Viora said, her voice soft.
Umeboshi turned his back to the doorway, resting his wooden staff on his shoulder. "Well, I'm heading back to the graveyard. See you sometime later," he said, already three feet away when her voice stopped him.
"Wait..." she called out hesitantly. "Why did you suggest I join you guys to play poker? Or even walk me home? It might be silly, but... I don't understand."
Umeboshi paused, still facing away from her. "Pff, you really love asking dumb questions. It's because I have a soft spot for brats like you."
Viora stared at his back, her cheeks heating slightly. In a hurried motion, she fumbled with the door handle, trying to open it as fast as possible.
Umeboshi noticed her reaction and immediately turned around, his expression twisted in frustration. "No, I didn't mean it like that, you idiot!"
Viora shot him a glare, the flustered panic on her face now replaced with indignation. "Who are you calling a idiot?!"
The tension dissolved as they both sighed heavily, realizing the absurdity of the situation.
Shaking his head, Umeboshi turned his back to her again. "Oh, by the way," he added nonchalantly, "do you want to know why the brat doesn't want you to come?"
As Umeboshi walked further away, his voice carried back to her, calm yet firm:
"It's because you don't understand the burden and pride of a shaman... apparently."
Viora stood at her doorway, staring after him, her hand still gripping the handle. The words lingered in her mind as she watched the spirit's figure fade into the distance.
"Burden and pride…" she whispered to herself, her expression unreadable as the dark red door closed behind her.
chapter nine end