"In exchange for returning this ball, I have one request."
The fingertips that lifted the yarn ball, indifferent to the dirt, were a translucent, sickly white. Inside the room where sunlight did not reach, the face of the boy sitting up in bed was obscured by shadow.
Only a fresh, bitter fragrance, like crushed herbs or perhaps the smell of medicine, drifted thickly even to the sunlit area.
"Won't you keep me company?"
The question sounded like a prayer, or a plea, but due to his arrogant attitude, it somehow also felt like an unrefusable command. The tone of a child raised preciously, overly preciously, who never learned how to interact with people.
"Okay," I said.
I nodded in response with my voice.
"Is that so. Good, it's a promise. Don't break it."
With a voice tinged with joy, the boy released the yarn ball from his hand. The ball rolling off the futon fell from the veranda, bounced on the ground, and stopped at my feet.
Picking up the yarn ball and stepping onto the veranda, I finally saw the boy's face.
Thin, delicate, pale. He looked so fragile he might die at any moment. The boy looking up at me from the bedding loosened his gaunt cheeks and smiled with unbearable transience.
From this day on, the name of he who would become my long-time friend was,
Kibutsuji Muzan.
He said.
＊
If you kick a yarn ball
Do you get hungry?
The temple of Horyuji
I want to eat
Rather than persimmons, grilled meat.
I thought I died in the Reiwa era, but I was reborn a thousand years ago in the Heian period.
I know it doesn't make sense, but honestly, I don't really get it either.
One thing I can say for sure is that the era I wanted to be born in wasn't the Heian period, where you can't live proudly without wielding elegance power through kickball and waka, but a fantasy world with swords and magic and flashy effects.
I wanted to experience a mass-market paperback-style isekai reincarnation, shout 'I'm super strong,' swing a sword, and hear people around me say 'He's awesome.' Why did I reincarnate not into another world? And it's not even the future. It's a time slip a thousand years into the past.
Maybe it's because it wasn't the cliché truck reincarnation. Was it because what hit me wasn't a truck but an auntie on a scooter? Or is it a speed issue, was 30 km/h insufficient? Weird, I thought time slips happen when you exceed the speed of light.
Anyway, due to some causality, I, who died in the Reiwa era, was reborn as the eldest son of some noble in the Heian period. It's good that food, clothing, and shelter are guaranteed. The clothes are heavy, the food is tasteless, and the only good thing is where you live. No, even that's not great. There's no electric boiler in the Heian period.
I tried to use my advantage as a Heisei-born to employ modern knowledge cheats in the Heian period, attempting a different version of the 'I'm super strong' strategy, but the only ultimate modern knowledge that came to mind was something like ↑↑↓↓←→←→BA game commands, so I gave up immediately.
If I were knowledgeable about classical literature, I could use waka cheats to raise my elegance power and be revered by those around me, but my elegance power is at the level of the waka from earlier. For reference, when I sang it, they looked at me with eyes that see monsters. It's sad. Please don't call an onmyoji.
In the Heian period, not being able to compose waka seems similar to not being able to use magic in a fantasy world. If you can't sing, you don't make friends. You can't succeed. You can't marry. I hate this era.
It's too hard that your life is determined by mere five-seven-five-seven poetry. The Heian period is too high difficulty for a modern person. Why is there no reincarnation perk even though I reincarnated? Is it a perk you only get after signing up?
For that reason, friendless as I am, today again I played ball alone in the garden. Tired of solo keepy-uppy, I aimed a shot at a folding screen that caught my eye as a goal, and it tore a hole in the screen.
My right foot, is it a golden foot?
Am I a shooting star born in the Heian period?
It looked like an expensive screen. No, it probably was expensive. I'm pretty sure Father treasured it── Okay, let's run away. Take the yarn ball too. The ball is my friend, so I can't leave it behind. Hey you, don't call it evidence destruction.
Kicking the yarn ball and trudging along, I wondered how to apologize to Father, how to be forgiven, but that was only the first time. Too engrossed in playing ball, I soon forgot about the screen.
If you drop the ball, you die...! Starting my own dark game, is my mental age at the level of a second grader? Am I a snot-nosed kid playing a game where if you step off the white line you die on the way home? Probably the child's body is influencing my mind. The world doesn't work like Conan-kun.
Some might think, why is the rule that you die if you drop it, why not make it a game where if you keep it up your wish comes true or something, but what moves humans is always negative emotions, not positive ones. Negative emotions make people strong.
In anti-rival soccer matches, the one who always scored hat tricks wasn't the handsome soccer team ace, but the extra who went mad with jealousy and became a demon. Namely, me.
"If you drop the ball, you die...! If you drop the ball, you die... ah, messed up!"
At this point, I was so immersed in the dark game that I lost reason. The ball I kicked up with all my might to not drop it disappeared over the wall. The towering great wall hurt my neck just looking up at it.
It's someone else's house. A house bigger than the one I live in. Meaning, a house of higher status than ours. I hesitated, thinking what if I get scolded, but I, a loner, only have the ball as a friend.
There was no option not to go save my friend, so,庆幸 nearby there was a bamboo grove, I sneakily took a suitable bamboo and pole-vaulted over the wall. The moment I landed in the spacious garden on the other side, I felt a bit pumped thinking I was like a ninja.
Alright, I need to retrieve my friend without being noticed by people, just as I was getting up.
"Is this yarn ball yours?"
"Eeek!"
I thought I'd die of fright.
'Ah, socially dead?' I thought. As a suspicious person illegally trespassing.
The one who spoke to me was a boy around my age. He said he had no friends because he'd been weak since birth and couldn't go outside, and in exchange for returning the yarn ball, he asked me to keep him company. My circumstances were different, but similarly friendless, I immediately accepted.
This was my first meeting with Kibutsuji-san's Muzan-kun.
Muzan, what a strange name, I thought, but in the old days, they sometimes gave strange names on purpose so bad entities wouldn't attach to the child, so Muzan-kun must be like that. In historical dramas, the 'maru' in names like ○○maru actually means miso from the anus, they say. Gross.
From that day, I started coming and going to Muzan-kun's house, but even though it was supposed to be keeping him company, I almost never provided the topics first.
Muzan-kun was weak but very smart, and having lived without going outside, he had accessed books and knew many things. Because of that, he was knowledgeable, and I mainly faithfully played the role of listener, responding and asking questions.
The topics I could bring up were things like this morning's meal, or my older sister is getting married soon, or the flowers in the garden bloomed prettily, or I got scolded for speed skating on the corridor slathered with camellia oil, or I got scolded for dancing while swinging a scroll like a glow stick, or I shouted "A hundred points!" when a shot hit Father's coffin and got scolded, or I didn't want to get scolded so I stole a small cart and ran off but it was too slow and I got caught and scolded again.
Muzan-kun always seemed to enjoy listening to such stories. It felt more like he enjoyed conversing with someone rather than the content itself. Then, wouldn't it be fine if the company wasn't me?
It's a bit harsh for me to say, but I'm not particularly cultured. If it's Muzan-kun, he could probably find a conversation partner who understands him better.
One day, suddenly curious, I asked.
"Muzan-kun, is it okay being friends with someone like me? I can't even compose waka."
"You became friends with me, who can't kick a ball."
Muzan-kun is a good kid.
・
・
・
"Long, long ago, there was an old man named Takeori no Okina. He went to fields and mountains to cut bamboo, using it for ten thousand things…"
"Hey hey Muzan-kun, 'ten thousand things,' specifically? Pole vaulting?"
"You're the only one using it for that. What do you take Takeori no Okina for?"
"It's not just me, everyone uses it! Takeori no Okina definitely did it too. He probably played around when grandma wasn't looking! No matter how old a man gets, his heart remains a boy! And about a thousand years later, they'll win at the Olympics with bamboo pole vaulting!"
"Olym...? What is that?"
"Huh? Muzan-kun doesn't know the Olympics? Totally old-fashioned~! Not knowing the Olympics is only forgivable up to the Berlin Olympics~!"
"Your falsetto is grating, it's noisy."
"Sorry!"
"Make sure there's no next time."
Muzan-kun forgives me even if I make a slight slip of the tongue like this. He always says "there won't be a next time," but when is Muzan-kun's next time coming? He's a good kid. You could say he's an easy mark. Thanks to him being good, I can act like a fool to my heart's content.
"I was running away from Father after the ball hit him square in the face and found a mountain full of late-blooming deutzia flowers! So pretty! I was mesmerized and got caught by Father! Here, a deutzia flower gift!"
"So that's the reason for the lump on your head... It's a lovely deutzia flower. I'll decorate it later."
"The intensity of Father's knuckle raps is increasing day by day. That old man, he started lifting and lowering the mortar stone just for the sole purpose of eventually beating me to death, he says."
"You brought it upon yourself."
"Let's go see the deutzia flowers together someday, Muzan-kun. It's a promise. Pinky swear (Genman)!"
"Wait, what kind of ritual is this. First of all, what is Genman?"
"This is how you make promises with friends. Genman is ten thousand knuckle raps."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Then specially, cat punches are fine too."
"Cat, pu… punches? What is that?"
"Hitting."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"Cat punches are the reward. Then fine, ten thousand cat paw kneadings. Pinky swear with meat dumplings is also okay. I'm a pizza dumpling fan, though. Pinky swear with meat dumplings!"
"If you knead paws carelessly, the cat will suffer. Let's do Genman."
Just as my friend during my loner days was a yarn ball, it seems what comforted Muzan-kun during his loner days were the stray cats that sometimes wandered in. Maybe because he kept giving them leftover food, the cats here acted spoiled and purred around Muzan-kun like in a cat cafe.
"Muzan-kun is kind."
"In return, be gentle..."
"Don't whisper while sniffling. It'll cause weird misunderstandings. The roses are in full bloom. Stop it, you're handsome. I want to be friends with Muzan-kun. I like women with big breasts. What I want to bury my face in is overwhelmingly large breasts, definitely not a male chest."
"What on earth are you talking about. For women, long and beautiful hair is the best, isn't it?"
"Muzan-kun who doesn't understand that, please stay just as you are. Then, pinky swear, if you lie, swallow a thousand needles!"
"Wait, swallowing a thousand needles will kill you."
"Then it's fine with needle-like sliced carrots or something."
"That's animal feed."
"You shouldn't be picky."
"No one has died from not eating carrots!"
Isn't the tone too forceful? I've never heard such a tremendously loud voice from the depths of the belly before, how much do you hate carrots?
"Then how about seaweed?"
"Don't say that while looking at my hair."
"Burdock is fine too."
"You can't swallow it without chewing."
"Chew it well."
"I can't eat that much."
"You can eat it over a lifetime."
At the end of such conversation, when I said "Promise!" and held out my pinky, Muzan-kun stared at his own pinky and smiled slightly, seemingly happy. We promised. Don't break it. Absolutely. But Muzan-kun is a good kid, so he'll keep the promise.
It's okay.
Someday, he will definitely become healthy.
・
・
・
It was a day several years after meeting Muzan-kun. As usual, when I went to see him, I saw a stranger. A man older than me. When we passed each other in the corridor, he slightly bowed his head while making way.
He was neatly dressed and seemed kind, but was there such a person at Muzan-kun's house?
"Ah, that's the new doctor."
"Huh? What about the old doctor grandpa?"
The doctor grandpa was a renowned physician, said to be the best in the capital, who had kept Muzan-kun alive until now when every other doctor shook their heads saying he wouldn't live long.
It's no exaggeration to say that Muzan-kun, who was extremely sickly like a young master from the Edo period who almost dies from a different disease every morning and evening, could grow up until now thanks to that doctor grandpa.
"It seems even a master physician couldn't withstand the waves of time, he passed away at year's end. Now his disciple has succeeded him."
"I see. It was the disciple, he seemed like a kind person."
"Yes. His passion is no less than the former doctor's. He's testing various medicines."
Seeing Muzan-kun smile like that, that person must be a really good doctor. I only had that impression at the time, and didn't feel any further interest in the new doctor.
"You know what~ I started playing one-person basketball recently."
"Basketball... a new type of monster?"
"It's a ball game."
For reference, soccer is 'kemari.' When I told him the story of how I dribbled around Father and shot into his coffin, and got a iron fist制裁 dunk on the crown of my head from Father, Muzan-kun laughed and said 'idiot.'
"My dream is to master misdirection to the extreme and shake off Father's pursuit!"
"Mis, direc...?"
Chatting idly like that, I didn't know.
That people's goodwill doesn't always bring good results.
＊
Muzan-kun's condition is strange.
In what way, he gets angry easily.
Muzan-kun has an arrogant, king-like attitude but also a deep side. Even if I did something rude, he'd forgive me quickly if I apologized, and when a servant slipped and spilled water, he'd laugh and say it's okay.
But recently, he's started getting angry over trivial things. Yelling that a servant's quiet footsteps are noisy, overturning brought meal trays, throwing tantrums over minor discomforts.
At times, he even threw household items, almost hitting a servant. If I hadn't stolen the ball, it would have been dangerous. It was a quite powerful, accurate pass. A pass I almost missed if not for me. Glad I started basketball. Father's coffin was a necessary sacrifice.
Muzan-kun's terrible attitude applied not only to servants but also to me.
But in my case, Muzan-kun would apologize after shouting, regaining his senses. Well, sometimes he doesn't regain his senses and keeps getting angry, eventually yelling at me to get out.
If I obediently leave, sometime later a letter arrives from Muzan-kun saying sorry for that time. The weak handwriting, as if muttering intermittently, asks me to come back to the mansion. With tear-stained, sorrowful letters.
Muzan-kun is basically a good kid. And smart. Since he clearly knows right from wrong, he should be able to judge whether his anger is right before getting angry.
At first, I thought he was in a bad mood. I thought it would calm down over time, but as time passed, his nerves grew sharper. He accumulated utterly unreasonable anger.
Muzan-kun was a child who grieved rather than got angry over his weak body. Grieving but not giving up, waiting for the day he'd become healthy. A child who knew how to trust and wait.
But now he shouts instead of sighing. He rages, asking why can't I walk under the sunlight. He suddenly explodes in irritation like a throwing tantrum child.
Why is that.
One day, I realized.
"Anger is the vitality for living."
The doctor showed me a benevolent smile.
Even though Muzan-kun had thrown a medicine box into the garden, he showed no sign of being upset, rather seeming pleased.
Both of us, having been told by Muzan-kun to get out immediately, were sitting side by side on the veranda away from the room. The warm sunlight felt good, but thinking of Muzan-kun made me feel a bit sorry. The image of him with a resentful face I'd never seen in childhood came to mind.
"If you're not healthy, you can't even get angry."
'That's true,' I nodded. I nodded, but that didn't mean I accepted Muzan-kun's fierceness as a good thing. Because after his heightened emotions subsided, there were times when Muzan-kun himself would look back on his actions and burst into tears.
──Why does my heart become so disturbed, my性格 grow rough, why do I get angry over trivial things?
──Ah, it's as if, as if.
──I've become a demon who knows no reason.
The kind Muzan-kun regretted like that, sickening his heart more than his body. The flower-like smile he often showed before has recently disappeared, and he always has a gloomy face.
──If this continues, won't I end up killing someone someday?
Not knowing when he might become violent and commit an irreversible act, Muzan-kun became afraid and stopped laughing entirely. Compared to those days when his body was weak but his heart was full, this situation must be the worst for Muzan-kun.
When I conveyed that, the doctor smiled softly.
"Muzan-sama's anger is because the medicine is taking effect. Please bear with it a little longer."
In a voice so, so gentle.
With merciful eyes. With a mild face.
I couldn't immediately understand the words that came. My spine chilled at the transparent, clean attitude. As if accepting how I was speechless, the doctor continued speaking with an unchanged smile.
"They say illness comes from the heart."
"Also, illness can cause one's mood to sink."
"Muzan-sama's medicine has ingredients that elevate the mind mixed in."
"Ah, of course it's medicine effective for the body as well as the mind."
"It's a prescription inherited from my predecessor that I've改良 independently."
"The medicine currently being administered is incomplete but its effects are excellent. When given to a weakened mouse, well, the mouse that didn't even have strength to eat food jumped around vigorously and bit off my finger! I'm thinking of naming this 'Blue彼岸花,' its origin is from the ingredients──"
I don't remember the content the doctor said beyond that.
Before I knew it, the doctor was gone, and I was left alone on the veranda with the sunset light seeping in.
Even though it was early autumn and somewhat chilly, unpleasant cold sweat sprang from my whole body. My insides growing cold wasn't due to the weather.
Stumbling, I rushed into Muzan's room. The room's owner gave a bothersome look, but perhaps because he was calmed now, there was no sign of anger.
"Muzan-kun, you mustn't drink the doctor's medicine!"
"What suddenly. Are you telling me to die?"
"No! Muzan-kun getting angry easily is because of the doctor's medicine!"
I feel sorry for the doctor who's trying hard, but this is clearly the truth. He said the mouse given medicine jumped around vigorously, but to me it only sounded like it went mad.
I was so afraid of what if Muzan-kun becomes like that.
"Understand? Even if he gives you medicine next time, absolutely don't drink it. We need to ask to return to the previous medicine. Got it? It's a promise. Pinky swear!"
A few days after forcibly pinky swearing with Muzan-kun, who glared with suspicious eyes.
The doctor died.
That day, when I went to see Muzan-kun as usual, what I saw was the doctor with his head split open by a kitchen knife, dead, and Muzan-kun staring blankly down at the doctor.
Recognizing me standing dazed before the gruesome scene, Muzan-kun gritted his teeth and crawled out of the futon. As if not wanting to believe what he did, he clung to my clothes with a face pale as death.
"Hey, I said… I wouldn't drink the medicine… but he… secretly put it in… the meal… so, I just… got furious… and when I came to─"
Choking there, he shed endless tears, unbearably pitiful. I hugged his shoulders crying like a child and patted his back. I regretted unavoidably, thinking if only I had come a little sooner.
While trying to secretly take and dispose of the doctor's body, we were caught by household members who heard the commotion and came running. They seemed to immediately realize it was Muzan-kun's doing.
With everyone looking at Muzan-kun like a scary monster, I desperately explained that this happened because of the doctor's medicine.
Since everyone knew how gentle Muzan-kun was in the past, they easily believed my words. Even though he had shown rough attitude recently, thanks to the favor Muzan-kun had steadily saved up in the past, everyone cooperated in disposing of the body.
We searched the doctor's belongings and found the former doctor grandpa's old prescription, so from now on, we can give that to Muzan-kun.
There's no more doctor giving dangerous medicine. Fortunately, Muzan-kun didn't become ferocious like a mouse. Now we just have to wait for the effects of the previous medicine to wear off and the symptoms to subside. It will be hard days for Muzan-kun, but I should keep visiting him until he returns to normal.
And someday when he becomes healthy, we'll go out to play together.
To that beautiful mountain full of deutzia flowers on a sunny day.