Chapter Text
PROLOGUE (Chapter 58 Episode 15 Sometime before our actual story, at the Spirits and Such Consultation Office...)
"Hey, you got something on your back."
Reigen finished yawning and looked up from where he was rifling through the day's pile of mail. "What?"
Ekubo floated behind his head, peering curiously at something. "It's weak, but it's definitely malicious."
"What?" Well, that wasn't vague and mildly alarming. Reigen looked over his shoulder, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of whatever Ekubo was talking about. He thought he might have seen a flash of black at the corner of his eye, but there was nothing there now. Nothing he could see, anyway.
"Looks like someone's put a curse on you."
"What'll happen to me if we leave it there?" Reigen asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ekubo paused for a moment, before leering. "You might slip on a banana peel, that kinda bad luck."
He mulled that over for a moment. Doesn't sound too serious for a curse but... "That'd be enough to do me in if it happened on a stairway," Reigen said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Take it off."
"I don't like your attitude, so no," Ekubo said.
Reigen maybe should've pressed the issue more but (coincidentally, unfortunately, and at that very moment) he just so happened to have his eye caught by the envelope at the top of the mail pile, a fancy affair printed on expensive card stock from a Mr. Asagiri, and both he and Ekubo promptly forgot about it.
It was probably just that awful customer from yesterday trying to get back at him. A curse from a pathetic guy like that couldn't be all that bad. He could handle heavy shoulders for a week or two.
PART ONE
A salty ocean breeze hit Reigen's face as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. As far as cases went, this was probably one of his more scenic ventures. The water lapped against the shore in languid waves, the crash of the surf like a soothing metronome. The last of the sunset shone upon a small fleet of boats, bobbing gently along the quay. Yet despite the pristine scene, they were the only people on the pier.
"Nice place," said Ekubo, bobbing along behind him. "Any chance we're here for some fishing, or a relaxing swim?"
"Only if you brought a bathing suit."
Ekubo rolled his eyes. "I can wear you as a suit and drown you."
Reigen frowned in mock-affront. "What a mean-spirited ghost."
"Evil spirit, thank you."
It was really a shame he couldn't bring Mob along, if only for the view. The neighborhood council of nearby Crab Town had hired the help of Spirits and Such in response to reports of ghostly phenomenon, though the officials of the sleepy seaside hamlet had promised alternative compensation due to a shortage of funds. Reigen had waved it off. So he'll have a surplus of kombu for the next few months—would make for some excellent soup stock this winter.
Ekubo floated over his shoulder, taking in their surroundings with a mildly bored expression. "So you gonna fill me in or what?"
"Why didn't you ask on the way here?"
"We were playing shiritori literally the entire time," Ekubo said, crossing his little arms. Reigen had started it as a way to pass the time, and maybe both of them had gotten way too competitive about it. So there went about an hour-long train ride that drew the occasional stare from other passengers at the weirdo who was apparently playing a word game by himself, and then a ten-minute taxi ride from the station where the driver stoically ignored the crazy man in his backseat, but Reigen wasn't about to let a little public embarrassment get in the way of winning. Which he did.
"You should've thought of that and lost sooner," said Reigen, giving him a thumbs up and a wink. Truth was, he'd been scrambling by the end and Ekubo lost on a technicality ("I win! No words from Old Japanese!" "Since when!?" "A lot's changed since you died." "Oh fuck off."), but Reigen had an understanding, open relationship with the truth and saw no reason to bring that up.
Ekubo stuck his tongue out and responded with a hand gesture of his own. "Whatever. What are we doing here?"
"There have been reports by the local townsfolk of boats disappearing without a trace, just a ways out in the water," Reigen recounted as they walked (or in the case of half of their party, floated) down the pier. "The story goes that on dark, foggy nights, an eerie red light appears out on the horizon, just before an army of ghostly skeletons rise from the sea to drag the ship down to hell. Six reported cases so far."
Ekubo looked around the deserted dock. "Explains the lively crowd. But that seems like a pretty easy thing to confirm, isn't it?"
Reigen shrugged, and took out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out to his lips. One of the positives of doing a job without Mob, he thought idly.
"Well," he said, as he lit the cigarette between his teeth, "all the victims so far have been small vessels, some fishermen and merchants. Superstitious lot. All the eyewitnesses jumped overboard before doing anything else, and none of the boats have been found yet."
He took a drag and blew out a cloud of smoke in Ekubo's direction, which shimmered against the green haze of his form. Ekubo scrunched his face and waved the smoke away with a disgusted grunt.
"Sounds like a job for your disciple, or is your phony ass planning on going up against the vengeful ghosts of Heike all by yourself?" Ekubo replied.
Reigen blinked. "What are you talking about? You're gonna eat them."
"Wh—that sounds like I'm doing all the work! The hell are you gonna do?!"
"I'm the spiritual consultant," he said simply. "Besides, we don't know yet if it's legit or not—maybe it's just a spate of bad weather. If it actually is Tomomori and his drowned warriors returned from the depths of hell, think of it like I'm treating you to dinner. Here's our ride," Reigen said, coming to a stop in front of a small fishing boat.
"You are such a shameless fraud," Ekubo said.
"What, you watching your figure or something? Don't worry, you look fine to me," Reigen said as he jumped onto the boat. His requested bag of supplies was on the driver's seat, next to the old motor that looked as though it had seen better days.
"Oh, Shigeo, it was the most tragic thing. Reigen fell off the boat and drowned before I could do anything about it. Turns out he couldn't swim for shit..."
The sun was by now a mere sliver on the horizon, casting thin, red-orange streaks against the deep twilight blue. On the opposite shore of the bay, a small cliff-side lighthouse flickered several times before turning on, a dim glow against the darkening sky. Reigen unpacked the bag and started the motor, which sputtered to life hacking and coughing like an old, ailing grandfather.
If the weather report held true, tonight was a perfect night for some otherworldly sailors to make an appearance...
*
Reigen brought the charm close to his face, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. Protection from evil, it said, in Mob's slightly shaky calligraphy. "Mr. Shinra gave me a book on talismans, after the incident with Ms. Minori and Mr. Asagiri," Mob had said the day before, after Reigen told him about the trip he was making for the Crab Town case. He had a scheduling conflict, as his parents had already made plans for a family vacation that week.
"I'm not sure if I did it correctly. The book's instructions were confusing. I did not know what the author meant by 'sacred life energy' or 'holy blessing'," he explained. "I thought it might be sort of like astral projection? So I blasted it with my psychic power."
"Did you now?" Well, that explained the somewhat singed look of the talisman.
Mob nodded, hair bobbing dutifully. "I was hoping it might help since I can't come with you, and Shishou is mostly a spiritual expert..."
Reigen bit back a smile. Then he tucked away the charm in the inner pocket of his jacket, and ruffled Mob's hair affectionately. "That's very thoughtful of you, Mob. Of course I won't be needing it, what with my awesome power and all," he said, putting a hand up to his chin to strike a pose, "but still, I'm very grateful. We'll have some hotpot when you get back, how 'bout it?"
"Of course, Shishou."
*
"You're fucking lost, aren't you."
"Shut up," Reigen said, whacking the marine GPS several times until it found the signal again. Right on schedule, a fog had rolled in the bay soon after they took off, cloaking their surroundings like a thick, eerie miasma, even though they weren't all that far out to sea. His hair was damp underneath the hood of his raincoat, and his goggles had fogged up so much that he'd done away with them after the first ten minutes. He probably shouldn't have worn his suit to this assignment, but he had a professional image to maintain.
Not that this kind of weather was all that unusual around here, but it was easy to see how the rumors of ghostly phenomenon had come about and propagated—assuming, of course, that they were only rumors in the first place. At least the waters remained pretty calm, though it didn't do much to lessen the spooky atmosphere, like something was waiting just beyond the range of their view.
Reigen gave the GPS another whack, and finally the No Reception message went away, the display restored. Under a flashlight, he compared it with the (now very soggy) map he'd brought with him. Thankfully his annotations were still legible, for the most part.
"For your information, we're actually right on course," Reigen said smugly. "Anyway, can't you like, light up or something?" The lantern set up at the front of the boat could only penetrate the fog for a short distance ahead of them, even though he'd put in new batteries. "Be useful for a change."
Ekubo gave him a look of unconcealed disdain from where he floated by the motor, his hand on the steering handle. "What the hell do I look like, a pair of headlights? I'm gonna crash this boat."
Reigen blinked and wiped at his eyes as fine peals of water caught in his lashes, and continued to study the map against the slowly moving dot on the GPS. "Sure, sure. Can you crash the boat about—let's see—half a kilometer due north?"
"I'm serious. No one will ever find your body."
Despite his grumbling, Ekubo followed his direction without delay, and only a few more threats of bodily harm. They cruised through the thick fog for several minutes, before a docking area came into view with jarring suddenness. Water splashed over the sides of the boat as they turned, Ekubo steering the boat to an abrupt, stomach-churning stop.
"Hey, hey, watch it!" Reigen yelled, gripping the sides of the boat. Good thing he had a light lunch.
"No one likes a backseat driver," Ekubo said as he guided their boat into the wharf, unrepentant. He turned the motor off, leaving behind only the ambient noises of the water breaking upon the hull.
"Yeah?" Reigen said as he pulled out the tie line and secured their boat to the dock. "No one likes capsizing either. You really wanna go swimming that much?"
"Bet you really are a shitty swimmer."
Reigen jumped off the side of the boat and onto the dock. After tugging on the ropes to make sure they held fast, they began to make their way along the empty pier, the wooden planks creaking ominously beneath their—uh, his—feet. The docks soon lead to a concrete waterfront, teeming with dandelion weeds bursting through the pavement. Old, dingy warehouses lined the waterfront, all of them in various stages of disrepair. Unlike the seaside harbor they'd started out from, the scene before them was less quaint marina and more abandoned industrial wharf.
"Nice," Ekubo said approvingly. "Now these are some proper, respectable haunting grounds."
Reigen considered having another smoke, but decided against it. The fog would just make his cigarettes as miserably damp as the rest of him. "Since when did you care about being respectable?" he asked curiously.
"Since always, you worthless conman. Anyway, I know you're a shitty fake psychic and all, but do I gotta tell you you're not likely to find any wrathful spirits of the deep on dry land?"
"Crap, now you tell me?" Reigen said without breaking stride. "How I ever managed all these years without you, I'll honestly never know."
Without turning away from his investigation of the warehouses, Reigen took the soggy map from his pocket and handed it to Ekubo. "I had the neighborhood council give me the approximate locations of where the boats disappeared. After a bit of very smart research," he set off in the direction of the least dilapidated building, "I found this old wharf on the map. It fell out of use years ago, being relatively out of the way, but the ghost attacks are all remarkably centered around this area..."
He stopped in front of one of the warehouses. At first, the building looked only a little less worn down as the rest of the others, but the metal front doors were conspicuously intact, the handles held shut with a shiny padlock.
"Either it's just a bunch of thieves," Reigen said, "or maybe Tomomori and his guys are trying some sort of commercial venture."
"Inspiring detective work," Ekubo replied, sounding grudgingly impressed. "Too bad it's locked. Don't suppose you've figured out how to phase through walls, have you?"
Reigen stared at him disbelievingly, a lock pick in hand. "Honestly, what do you take me for?"
Ekubo flitted around above his head, peeking curiously through the tall, clouded glass windows. "A fake? A lying conman? A phony psychic fraud who should get a real job? I must've mentioned it at some point."
"You really are a very rude spirit," Reigen gave as a muffled reply, holding the flashlight between his teeth as he worked on the lock. It was as new as it looked, and didn't stand a chance against him. After a few moments of fiddling, the lock opened with a neat click. He put away the pick and took the flashlight from his mouth. "You are working with a professional—" he began to say as he swung the doors open.
"Drop it!" a man's voice called out, deep and slightly growly. "Who the hell are you?"
Reigen brought a hand up as a flashlight beam landed on his face, blinding him. "Oi, do you mind?"
"That's my line," said the stranger, though he lowered the beam to Reigen's chest level. "Now answer the question: who the hell are you? You're on private property."
"Uhh, I got lost?" Reigen tried, still blinking the spots from his vision.
The man snorted. "Yeah, right."
"I did! Must've made a wrong turn somewhere."
"Just accidentally picked the lock too, didn't you?"
"Well...okay, look, if you're going to mug me, can I keep my train pass? I just topped it up yesterday and I don't have enough for taxi fare."
The stranger was about to reply when something must have caught his eye and he stopped, his mouth agape. His flashlight dropped to the floor with a loud clatter as his eyes widened and his face turned alarmingly pale, looking like he just saw a—oh.
The stranger—a tall, broad-shouldered man with black hair and an intimidating face, likely a guard of some sort—had cowered away from them, pressing up against the wall of the warehouse, staring at the spot over Reigen's shoulder with open fear. Even if this was the guy's first time seeing a ghost, his reaction to what was essentially a floating, snot-green cloud with a face was a little disproportionate, especially with his large frame and vaguely threatening demeanor.
"Come now," Reigen said, equitably. "He's not that ugly."
"Go fuck yourself," Ekubo said, emphatically.
"It's you!" the man yelled, pointing a finger at Ekubo.
There was a moment's pause. A gust of wind blew through the open doors into the cavernous warehouse, a hollow whooshing noise to occupy the silence.
"Do I know you?" Ekubo asked.
"Y—you're the guys that attacked the Claw facility!" said the stranger.
Reigen shot Ekubo a look. "Friend of yours?" he asked, but Ekubo just squinted at the guy in front of them. For a second, Reigen was certain that he wouldn't remember the guy at all, when a flash of realisation crossed his face.
"Oh! It's you!" Ekubo said, pointing a finger back at the guard.
The security guard fainted.